The Forging of Toungoo

A while ago I mentioned that I had tried out a campaign set in 16^th Century Burma, but it had not worked terribly well. Still, I got a wargame out of it, so not everything was a disaster. While the campaign mechanics were too complex, I do like the odd elephant on the table, and when a photograph of the battle came around on my screen background, it raised a smile. So that was encouraging.

After some pondering, I decided to have a go at a rather simpler campaign idea. This dates back to somewhere around the year 2000, when I wrote an article in Miniature Wargaming based on the rise of the Aztecs. More recently, I revived and slightly modified the campaign for the Siena series in the Italian Wars. The modification involved the addition of rules for someone trying to assassinate me.

For this sort of city-state warfare, it seems, the general idea works well. There are basically two turns per campaign year, one is a random event such as a famine, revolt or invasion, and the other is as the player determines. Battles are fought if cities to which the player moves do not submit, if there is a revolt or invasion, and so on. This is all controlled by dice and playing cards.

I spent a morning or so reviving the rules and transferring them to South-East Asia. This was mostly working out the composition of the random events table and who invaders might be. This turned out to be Mogul Indians, Siamese and Ming Chinese, which seems fair to me as some of the eastern peoples were Chinese culturally.

The first turn die roll indicated that it was my move to start with in 1530. I therefore attacked Prome, my neighbour to the west. While their submit roll was not too high, nevertheless they refused to become my vassals and a wargame had to be fought.

A complication (or refinement) of this system now is that the armies are drawn randomly. I drew 7 tribal foot, 3 cavalry, a skirmisher base and an elephant. Prome drew 5 tribal foot, 4 elephants, 2 bow and a cavalry. I was quite morose at this, I confess. Elephants are very powerful units on the board, and little can stand in their way, as the last wargame demonstrated.

I was daunted, but as I had implemented some rule changes after last time to reduce the total dominance of the nellies a bit – I had slowed them down to infantry pace from cavalry – I thought that I might have a chance if I could get my cavalry into the enemy infantry. This is the joy of random systems, I suppose. They throw up totally unexpected situations which the solo wargamer has to work out how to deal with.

The set-up is above. The army of Prome is to the left, deployed up to their centreline (as they are the defenders). I initially deployed them further back but wanted to get the archers onto the hill nearest the camera (hence the general’s elephant with them). My brave lads are deployed in a fairly compact formation on the right. My plan is to get the infantry onto the hill where they might have a chance against the elephants, and get the cavalry into the opposing infantry as soon as possible. The playing cards (there are, in fact, three on the table) were ambushes set by Prome. Fortunately, they were all false, as it turned out.

The game was played on the day of Storm Darragh here in North Yorkshire, so the room was dark and I was suffering from a lot of flash splash or, alternatively, camera shake. So the shots are not terribly good, but hopefully give enough to sustain the narrative.

Prome got their archers onto the hill, but then they were too far away to affect the action. The general had to rush off to get the elephants moving against me. The enemy infantry (the cheek) moved up and charged my cavalry. This looked bad, at least initially, as the cavalry were forced back by the shock. However, they did rally magnificently.

On my left, one column of my foot charged the Prome cavalry, downhill, and routed them. I also moved myself up to support the cavalry and moved my central column up to support the cavalry. Meanwhile, my elephant which was hanging around at the back, moved into place to protect my flank from the enemy elephants. A bit of a forlorn hope, I felt.

The above picture shows the scene towards the end of the action. I have just managed to rout two of the annoying infantry bases in the centre, and one of my cavalry bases has managed to bounce a rouge elephant. On my left, a remarkable event has happened. My lone elephant base, charged by three enemies including their general has, in fact, routed one of them. The others, after the unsuccessful charge, are in some disarray.

The end was not far away. My cavalry charged down the hill at the remaining Prome infantry and routed them, while my elephant turned against one of the enemy. This resulted in the rout of the Prome army and a hugely unexpected victory for Toungoo. Prome lost 7 elements, all 5 infantry bases, a cavalry and an elephant base, to, well, I lost none.

I confess to a huge slice of luck. My elephant should have gone down to the charge of Prome. The odds were stacked against it, but it rolled a 6-1 on the combat dice and pushed its immediate foe back. This left said foe on the back foot and without its supports, who had just gone doubly terrain-shaken post-charge. My nellie followed up and on another good roll routed it. Similarly fortunate, my cavalry base blocking the other elephant managed to get away with only being shaken.

In short, it was a damn close run thing. But most empires need a bit of luck to begin with I think. I’ll have to see what the random event brings.

Ethics and Wargaming

The last post on the blog managed to obtain some reaction, so it is probably worth pondering a bit further. I suppose I need to clarify some of my own thinking on the subject and attempt not to set up any straw men for reasoning about wargame period, army, or action choice. I suppose, first up, I should say I am not questioning anyone’s choice of wargame, as I hope the following might suggest.

Firstly, it is worth saying plainly that I do not think that there is a particular ethical problem with choosing any particular wargame project. I cannot see how anyone could have an objection to wargaming any particular historical period or army. History shows, after all, that any country, tribe, or whatever engaging in combat is liable to have to make some moral judgment, and some of those are going to be dubious. Burleigh’s Moral Combat, reviewed here, makes such a point. In the Second World War the Allies, with limited resources, had to decide where to deploy them. On the whole, they stuck to plans that would bring the war to an end as quickly as possible. They may not have always succeeded, of course, but that was, in Burleigh’s view, an entirely laudable aim. Bombing railway lines to disrupt transport to Auschwitz would have diverted resources and lengthened the war costing more lives, and probably would not have particularly slowed down the Nazi slaughter of Jewish people. After all, Auschwitz was not the only way they had developed of exterminating people.

In some moral philosophy, there are rights and duties, which are fine and dandy until they start to bump into each other. If the Allies had the duty to finish the war as quickly as possible, and the Jews had a right to protection from the enemies of the Third Reich, with a concomitant duty on the Allies to execute that protection, then in a resource-limited world the two demands are in conflict and one has to be chosen. It is no wonder that the consumption of alcohol and cigarettes by the leaders of the Allied powers increased radically during the war.

Not that WW2 is the only arena where moral issues come to the fore, of course. Similar considerations reverberate through history, at least for as long as leaders have attempted to justify their actions to their people or some sort of nebulously defined ‘world opinion’. The bottom line is, more or less, that the leaders have to have a degree of support from their aristocracy and those lower down the social order in order to get anything done at all, let alone declare war.

With respect to wargaming, however, we do not have any of these ethical concerns around us. We can place a 1943 German army on the battlefield happily without particularly worrying about what it was they were defending. Similarly, with such warfare as that between the Wallachians and Ottomans in the 14^th Century (or so, I forget the exact dates of Vlad Tepes). The game is the thing: impaling captives on sharpened logs and watching them die slowly is not part of any wargame I know, or would wish to be a part of.

It gets a bit more tricky with Science Fiction games and their ilk. As someone mentioned, players of these games often take a stance that suggests in historical games someone has to play the ‘bad’ guy, while in their games, as they are fictional, there is no moral problem at all. To some extent that is correct, of course, but it also is not bombproof. Science Fiction, often, is based on our current reality. Thus an SF game based around fascist states warring with each other is, in my view anyway, no better than Germany v Russia in WW2. The former, however, might be slightly more worrying to the neutral observer.

Still, overall, I do not detect an ethical problem here. I do detect, as I have said before, a matter of taste. Working backward, I do detect a lack of taste in some SF RPGs I have played – this is often disguised as ‘darkly humorous’ but can disguise, at least, tastelessness. It is not, however, unethical to play such games, I think.

Thus, the Russian Front in WW2 is also not unethical, although it might upset some people worried that such a wargame disguises the murderous nature of the regimes involved. The point is surely that history happened and it cannot be undone. As a side issue, of course, the current concerns about slavery and colonialism run into similar problems: they happened. It is what we do with the facts of the happening today that counts. History is never, it seems, wholly a matter of the past.

Sidestepping into the present, the original question was posed about current events in Ukraine and Gaza, and whether it would be ethical to wargame them. I am not sure about the ethics of wargaming present wars: as with history, the events have happened, even if we do not like them. On the other hand, I can quite see how some people would regard such games as being in very poor taste.

Taste is a funny thing, however. Imagine you are on a crowded bus, a few stops from your destination. The people around you start to engage in various unpleasant activities: urinating, defecating, engaging in sexual activity, and so on. Suppose that these activities slowly get more unpleasant, and ask yourself: at what point would I get off the bus and walk?

The point here is that offensive activities, such as those engaged in by the other passengers, do not actually cause us harm. Similarly, a wargame based around Ukraine is not actually going to cause anyone harm, but it might cause some people offence and, hence, by those people, be classified as tasteless. As with the bus example, is this just a case of deciding where to get off and walk? Or is there a deeper issue about representing current events?

I’m not sure I know the answer, but I’ll stick to pre-1745 wargames just to be on the safe side.