The afternoon was somewhat more advanced however and a faint breeze had sprung up, sending the foam stonewall and hedge that marked the objective, tumbling across the table to be replaced by an unceremonious hunk of gravel, a constant barrage of Willow leaves occasionally obscured the lines of fire and Mystery the misplaced kennel now woodshed cat who can go days without being seen, interrupted us long enough to insist upon being fed early. Most memorable was the invasion of a ferocious alien beast bigger than a man (well bigger than a 10mm man) with a smaller green worm impaled on its fangs. This creature, which can be seen crawling over the bayonets of one of the .....well, the not-Austrian regiments under Les's command (there are names for these countries but I have not yet learned them by heart.) right behind the colours, spent a considerable while dodging bullets and dice as it sought a quite place for dinner.
Stout hearted lads, they didn't flinch at all.
When you said black powder I thought of my long gone youth when I used to plant bangers in the ground, light the fuse and stick Airfix Sherman tanks on top. Seeing blown off turrets cartwheeling through the air was one of the highlights of my childhood. Most spectacular was an Airfix HMS Victory I had won in a raffle years earlier. Being somewhat the worse for wear I filled it with fireworks and stuck it on top of a bonfire. It went bang.
ReplyDeleteThe days when my airfix soldiers defended earthworks against fire crackers were in my mind when we played outside but the general consensus was in favour of chairs, a table and dice over crawling about in the dirt.
ReplyDeleteNothing can be finer that a game played in the great outdoors, unless it is played outdoors on a terrace of one of Montreal's fine pubs. At least that is what my cribbage group believes.
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