The Martian goal was to penetrate our defences within 6 turns. Our goal was to stop them or die trying. I commanded a thin front line of 2 infantry and 1 MG units, Paul commanded 2 tank units supporting the center and right. Bob had overall command and a reserve of tanks on the left and Rough Riders in the center. Ron commanded a scout tripod and a standard one, host Martin another tripod and Ian, the Martian commander, also controlled another tripod.
While Ron probed the center the rest advanced upon our left. After some fierce fighting my infantry, backed by tanks had damaged 2 tripods but had lost 2 units. Paul commited the right wing tanks and took out the scout. Two turns left, human spirits rose.
The Martians responded by swiftly reversing direction striding right over our lines and Martin wiped out Paul's tank unit with a single (lucky) sweep. We scrambled to catch up but Martin followed this up on the last turn by routing Paul's last unit. He was about to follow up and disperse them but we talked him out of it, in good faith. All he had to do was survive our turn to win the game, umn unless we blew up one of the other tripods. As it happens, Ron had been ordered up with a damaged tripod against his best judgement. He lost control and ended up in assault range of the rough riders, facing away. To add injury to insult, the last damaged tripod tried to fire but a malfunction resulted in it blasting Ron instead. My colleagues allowed my infantry to fire the coup de grace.
|Good to get together with several old friends and some new ones. Hopefully something that will happen more often this year.|