In wargaming, as in life, there
are limits to the factors we can actually consider. We might suppose (and some
people argue) that there is no such thing as free will. Everything, they
suggest, would be accountable for if we knew enough about the causes. Thus, by
this reasoning, I am a wargamer for a certain set of reasons. If these were
known in sufficient detail, then it would be obvious why I am a wargamer.
The problem with this is, of
course, that the causes can never be known sufficiently. By analogy, the
mechanistic universe also fails, not because of quantum mechanics (although
that, of course, does not help) but because too much has to be known about the
initial conditions to be able to predict the future. Given that we cannot know
the location and momentum of every particle in the universe, we cannot predict
the future.
You might well, and quite
correctly, object that we can and do make predictions, and some of them are
quite accurate. This is not done, however, by a mechanistic approach, but by
modelling. And the trick in modelling is to model those bits which are
important, approximate those bits which have a visible effect, and ignore the
rest. Models are, of course, quite scientific. The creation of models, however,
is more of an art form.
Switching back to wargaming, of
course none of this should be a surprise to the regular reader of this blog. A
rule set, I have suggested before, is a set of interacting models which pick
out the bits of the real world battles that seem important. How accurately they
do this (whatever the term ‘accurate’ might actually mean here) depends on how
well we have done the job of picking out the important bits, and how well our
models cohere both with each other, and also with our ideas of how battles are
supposed to go.
I read on someone’s blog recently
(sadly, I cannot recall which one) some comments about how playing a wargame
and playing a wargame campaign differ. In a wargame, a stand-alone action, that
is, we can commit the Guard Cavalry because they might swing the final conclusion.
In a campaign game we might keep them in reserve to cover a retreat. Our
perspective differs according to the context.
Thus a set of wargame rules
really should, if it is to hold a mirror to reality, be asking the sorts of
questions of a wargamer in a stand-alone action that reality would ask. But,
usually, they do not. I imagine that this is because the wargame rule set is
more focussed on the battle, rather than its context. Blasting away at the
enemy with a grand battery is a lot more fun than ordering them to limber up
and move out because the left flank has just collapsed.
The question then is what is
important to a campaign game, and how are those things modelled. Here, of
course, we can delve into the details of logistics, reinforcements,
replacements, training and so on. There is a huge field out there of possible
factors. The problem is, of course, that it all starts to get far too complex
and collapse under the weight of administration and, at least relative, lack of
interesting stuff going on.
So we need to try to pick things
that are both relevant and interesting. Many a fascinating wargame has been
fought around supply trains and relief of forts, I know. But I suspect that
these have mostly come about through scenario choice rather than a campaign
game, certainly one which tracks the supplies a fort has in stock. We might
decree a situation, manufacture it, but relatively rarely, I suspect, does it
arise organically.
I have, over the years, tried a
number of different approaches. I have tried out the full Tony Bath Hyboria
approach, and concluded that he must have enjoyed bureaucracy very much. I have
tried linked games, where the next wargame depends on the previous one, and
these have worked, at least insofar as I have managed to guess the broad
parameters of the outcomes.
I have mentioned before other
things I have tried. I once indulged in a campaign game set in the Japanese Samurai
era invasion of Korea, where two Samurai armies fought their way inland,
beating off Korean and then other armies until they ran out of men and were
overwhelmed. I have had a ECW campaign where the two sides pursued each other
up and down a valley, neither, because of losses, quite able to deal a knockout
blow.
All of these campaigns modelled
some aspects. Some included logistics – if your supply line was cut you had to
stop. Some modelled attrition – how do you get reinforcements and recruits?
Some modelled movement. Most of them had the previous battle affecting the next
one, at least in numbers of troops deployed.
Currently, I have abandoned most
of these models. The games are linked, true. But, thus far at least, the Spanish
invaders have not suffered from attrition in their march inland. In my ancients
campaign, (which has also stalled, by the way) army sizes tend to get diced for
when a battle is indicated. I have also abandoned map moves. It is not that my
armies zip around in some imaginary space, or turn up where they want to, but
that my reading suggests that, in general, defending armies adopted defensive
positions, and attacking armies tended to attack them, more or less in situ.
The key, then, is deciding what to
include into a set of models for a campaign or a battle. We tend, as modern
Western people infused with a worship of numbers and things we can control, to
aim for the things we can enumerate – numbers of men, rounds of ammunition, and
quantities of rations and so on. These are, of course important, but actually
our ancestors rarely seem to have considered them too much. The Ancient Greeks,
for example, simply made sure they stopped for the night near a market. Should I
really need to model that?
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