Warlord Games' Plastic French Lancers

These are for Black Powder, Sharp Practice or Song of Drums and Shakos. Need to add the leader and trumpeter to make them eight strong.

They were given to me for my birthday a year ago, which is nice. They went together very easily - the horses in particular whilst less dynamic than Perry ones went together with far less filling and filing than the plastic Perry horses need.

There's only two bodies and two lance arms, and one of the lances is carried across the body. I wanted them all erect, so had to do a little chopping of one of the sword arms. I suppose I could have just used the sword arms, but these are lancers, the clue's in the name.
Painting was pretty easy, though obviously a bit of a faff because Napoleonics.

Pretty nice kit and if I get a single sprue I should be able to make 2 units of eight, which is about two more units than I really need, but what the heck.

Song of Drums and Shakos: Foraging Firefight

Stephen and myself wended our weary way over the Ilkeston Gaming Hut for some Napoleonic action. Beforehand debate had raged about which game to play. Frostgrave meant only I knew any of the rules (never a good position to be in), Lion Rampant was a game General Ballroom had never played, Warhammer was probably beyond the capacity of the still recovering Gen. B. to manage. So it was a choice between Age of Sigmar or Song of Drums and Shakos. I refused to actually suggest AoS (but was happy to play) but Stephen suggested SoDS, so the choice was made.

I came up with a simple scenario. Three objective counters in the centre of the board and the two forces would represent foragers looking to live off the land and encountering the enemy in the process. To move the livestock would require one passed activation each turn to keep them under control and then subsequent activations could be used to move them. The barrels (no doubt filled with Rioja) were heavy and would reduce movement to S.

 The peaceful Spanish village of San Mateo

 Every Voltigeur's dream

 El Plonk

Geese, just ready for a spot of force feeding

Stephen used his elite force of recently painted Voltigeurs. We were all a little taken back that they were 50 points each - but as events would prove they were very much worth that.
In response General Ballroom picked a host of plucky redcoats, supplemented by a pair of riflemen. Both sides came to almost 600 points which was quite large by our standards.

Athletic, elite Frenchmen

The two forces set up, Stephen deploying the French in dispersed formation whilst Gen. B formed his men up shoulder to shoulder - the thin red line. Stephen and I both questioned his tactics but he remained adamant.

Redcoats in fine array

The British began a slow and cautious advance. However the elite Fenchmen leaped forward taking advantage of their special rules and proximity of leaders and NCOs to race across the board.

 Gaston achieves his life's goal

Nice slow beat, drummer boy, please!

British volley fire had little impact on the Frenchmen lurking behind the wall.

Bang! Honk!

Meanwhile the first Voltigeur made off with the goats. General Ballroom appeared to be having some issues controlling his men and firing was sporadic.

Gaston heads to the woods for some special time with the goats

The French took advantage of this and began to make off with the booze as well. Despite shots at his fleeing French backside he made off with the goods.

Seizez vous le plonk, Theirry!

Meanwhile further fighting broke out over the duckpond. The riflemen blazed away, felling a Frenchman, but then failed to reload for the rest of the game.

 Allez! Vite!

 Take Aim!

Fire!

The Voltigeur flag bearer leaped over the wall, clearly eager for foi-gras, but was felled by a musketball before he could make off with the geese.

Reload, lads!

Redcoats raced to gather up either flag or fowl, but surviving Voltigeurs surmounted the wall, gathered up the flag and drove the geese from the compound.

Zis way my leetle feazzered chums!

The British unleashed more lead, but the Frenchmen were off and away.

General Vert would be dining well tonight, whilst General Ballroom would have to make do with bread and water.

Song of Drums and Shakos with General Ballroom

Our gaming chum General Ballroom has recently been most unwell. A "routine" heart operation (Steve says it was broken) resulted in some complications that he's still recovering from. However he gets better and better each time I've seen him. So today Steve and I decided that he needed to climb back on the wargaming horse - lest whatever skill and enthusiasm he has for our hobby be lost to him forever. Having first received confirmation from Lady Ballroom that he'd be up to the job we ventured over to the Ilko Gaming Shed with an assortment of Naps and some scenery for a quick game of Peninsular Napoleonic action.
Steve has started painting up some Voltigeurs (with massive headgear) but has since been distracted by Scotsmen (he loves a man in a kilt) but fancied tying out SDS and I figured that a small 300 point a side skirmish would be over quickly enough for the tired Gen. B to cope with.

The scenario saw a French sergeant and two infantrymen defending a village where their Commanding Officer had been caught all unnecessary whilst visiting his Spanish mistress in no-mans land. A small British force was on its way to capture the French General whilst reinforcements raced to his aid.

 Dawn breaks over the peaceful hamlet of Patatas Bravas

The British began by advancing en mass from behind a small wood.

Drumer Bonham keeps time

The French began to fire on the advancing redcoats but with little impact. The Frenchman behind the grey wall subsequently lost all interest in the battle and returned to his gauloises and vin rouge instead of reloading.

The first redcoat falls. But it's just a flesh wound 

Fortunately the Sergeant was made of sterner stuff and kept up a hail of fire on the British, even bouncing back to his feet and immediately reloading when taken down by a musket ball.
His closest soldat however caught an unlucky shot between the eyes and was out of the game

Gauche, driote, gauche, droite...

The French reserves finally arrived and advance rapidly on the village.

A sudden bout of accurate French musketry saw two British soldiers killed in a single round, suddenly their advance faltered and guns refused to reload.

Form up on the wall!

As the British attempted to consolidate their position behind the wall one of the newly arrived Frenchmen took aim at the British Captain and killed him with a single shot. British morale faltered and several men fled the safety of the wall. At this point the Frenchman behind the far wall finally put out his fag, picked up his musket and shot down another redcoat.

Drummer Bonham steadies the men's wavering resolve

All was not going the French way however and several attempts at ordering volley fire were met with a bewildered response from the grognards.

Le Sergeant hits the dirt again.

Finally however weight of numbers began to tell. Another musketeer was killed and the British realised the game was up. In a final act of perfidy one sneaky Frenchman circled behind a building and took aim at the young drummer boy. Fortunately his shot went wide, but at this point Sergeant Spitoon ordered the retreat - the French General had slipped through his fingers.

Drummer Bonham has a narrow escape.

This was a good fun game. The rules are simple and straightforward but with enough clever variations to keep it interesting. I'm not sure I'd want to play it every week, but it was just what we all needed I think and we'll probably revisit either the Peninsular or Waterloo in the not too distant future.

Find the Letters - a Song of Drums and Shakos Battle Report

The morning mist began to clear as the small British patrol advanced toward the tumbledown Spanish farm buildings.
"Right men, our contact has hidden the letters somewhere near that farm. Sergeant Bartholomew, take Lawrence, Morris and Shemp and search the nearest building. The rest of you stick with me. And keep your eyes peeled for Frenchies"

And so to our first ever game of Song of Drums and Shakos. Using the scenario I posted yesterday, our small (400 point) patrols would clash whilst searching for some incriminating letters.
I split the British into three groups, with Sergeant Bartholomew and the three veteran troopers sent out on my right to search the farm building, whilst the Captain, drummer and two riflemen were centre left, and a further four riflemen held the centre.
Captain l'Aurel meanwhile deployed in a much more constricted formation in the centre of the board, with fusiliers next to him and Marceau the drummer boy and the conscripts to his right with Sergeant Ardie.

The peaceful Spanish farm (gems to show possible letter stash)

Bartholomew commands the Veterans.

The British centre

Sergeant Ardie and the green recruits

Privates Lawrence, Morris and Shemp make ready

The first few moves saw cautious advances from both sides. I soon realised the error I'd made by having Bartholomew and the veterans too far from Captain Wiseman and unable to be issued with group orders, which meant my advance on the right became fragmented.

Captain l'Aurel however had wisely remained in command of his troops, although a few of the newer recruits dawdled at the rear.

Prepare to give fire!

"Aux armes citoyens!"

Captain l'Aurel bravely urges the men on (from the rear).

Eventually we made our way into musket range. The Voltiguers began to unleash volleys and two redcoats met grizzly ends! Return fire from the fractured British was less effective, but the proud French captain was forced to take cover from one close shot

Mon Dieu!

Steady, lads

Bartholomew and the veterans had made their way to the corner of the farm building, but digging in the dirt revealed only turnips, not French letters.

A spectacular shot from Private Widdle, brought brave Sergeant Ardie crashing to the ground and a wave of panic spread through the French recruits, but the cries of Captain l'Aurel and the drumming of Marceau ensured none fled the field.

"Damnation, no bonus rum for us tonight lads"

Private Miller frantically rifled through some broken earth at the edge of the woodland, but again could not unearth the letters, meaning they were concealed in the outbuilding close to the French lines. Another shot put Captain l'Aurel to the ground and, realising his peril, he called to his men to rally around.

"Right boys, let's finish this with cold steel"

The veteran British, realising their foe were likely to escape with the correspondence gathered themselves for a bayonet charge.

Meanwhile Captain l'Aurel ordered Marceau to snatch up the letters and make off. 

Uttering the immortal words, "as long as I don't get two ones, and that'll never happen" he cast the dice.

Seizing on the French confusion, Bartholomew led the men forward into a hail of shot.

Meanwhile the greenhorns held steady

Flee, Marceau, flee for your life!

Finally the young French drummer snatched up the letters and, once he had kissed his commanding officer on both cheeks, fled the field.

A final frantic charge from Bartholomew, Lawrence and Morris, saw captain l'Aurel, hold them off and wound Lawrence slightly, before the French force vanished into the morning mists.

We had lots of fun playing this.All the feedback from here and TMP about the benefits of group moves and fire and the importance of scenarios meant we had a good tense game. The command mechanic works really well and the fact that everyone is relatively low at combat bonuses but the weapons add modifiers to firepower give the game a very different flavour to SBH.
My opponent made better use of the group move and firing roles than I did and my attempts to use independent troops fell a bit flat - arguably pretty historical. Next time I'll take more care to keep my en close enough to the Captain to benefit.
We finished the evening hatching plans for the further adventures of rival Captains l'Aurel and Wiseman (and looking at models of Spanish guerrillas on the Perry website).

"Such poetry in motion" murmured Captain l'Aurel to himself as he watched the drummer boy disappear toward friendly lines. 
Suddenly fearsome yelling tore tore his attention back to the battlefield, three redcoats were bearing down on him. Drawing his weapon forth he parried the first two blows and sank his blade into the leg of one of the privates. Spinning away from the fight he shook his fist toward the distant figure of the British commander.
"Au revoir, Captain Ouiseman. Until ze next time our, ow you say, paths cross!" and with that he fled toward safety.