Chyweethl Gun Tractors

Milwer Krys fired a burst from the Cryfen light automatic rhyfle at the Crusader trying to throw an Anti-Tractor bundle grenade at them. The Green dropped back into the crater, followed by cries of panic, a loud explosion, and large cloud of dirt. There wouldn't be any threat form that direction for a while.

A high velocity shell screamed overhead. He looked around and saw that it had come from the hulking shape of an Alithean that had come from behind the ruined factory.

"Action front! Enemy tractor! 100 meters! Load AP!"

Myk, the gunner slammed the breech shut and hit the FIRE button without waiting for a command. "Firing!" 

The small vehicle rocked back from the recoil. Their shell exploded, glancing off the sloping side of the big turret. A muzzle flash told them the target was unaffected and returning fire.

Krys dropped into the compartment and closed the hatch just as the tractor shook and rang from being hit in the glacis. Flakes of red hot steel sprayed through the vision slits, burning his snout and rattling on his goggles.  He'd have been killed by shrapnel if he'd stayed un-buttoned. Myk worked the breech again, and Krys acted as loader in the cramped space to help speed up their rate of fire. He looked through the narrow slit and saw the enemy tractor shifting to their left to get out of their line of fire. "He's moving! Left! Keep on him!"

Stig, their driver turned the tractor around to help aim the main gun. "Following!" He had to scream over the engine noise and explosions around them, even though Krys and Myk were sitting right behind him.

Myk hit the FIRE button again. "Gotcha!" 

Krys watched as the tractor shed a pedrail and ground to halt. It's big turret began turning towards them.

"Again! Hit 'em again!" Another AP round was slammed in the breech. The FIRE button pushed. The tractor rocked back on it's suspension.

This round hit the back of the turret, where the engine was located, and smoke began billowing out. They watched the enemy crew pop open hatches and tumble out in a panic. Carefully, Krys raised his own hatch to get a better look around. Small arms fire rattled around him. "Action right! Enemy rhyflers! Load HE!" He worked the action on the Cryfen and took aim.

********************

Well, thanks to the My Mini Factory Tribe and Don's 3d printer, I have my first finished official Quar vehicles. A trio of Chyweethl Coftyran Gun Tractors.

They're odd little things, rather reminiscent of a football married to a StuG. But they've grown on me.

I added some extra stowage and metal weapons from the old accessory packs Zombiesmith used to sell. The decals are form the Tiger tank model that is the basis for the Iron Keep. The camouflage net rolled  up on the front of one is cheese cloth soaked in white glue and stuck on before priming.

You can get one already printed from Zombiesmith here, or buy the stl from Wargames Atlantic here.

These bring the Royalist Mechanical Corps up to 9 assorted AFVs.

Extra Quar from the Tribe Subscription!

Podwyn approached the pile of leaves carefully, like a small rodent approaching the den of a predator. Fear rose up in his throat, but he pressed on. As acting-Milwer and Duty NCO, he had a vitally critical job.

My new Master-Yawdryl with his Tactical Mug. Battle might be imminent, but let's see to the important things first

The pile of leaves stirred slightly, and he could hear gentle snoring. He stood staring at the gently pulsating leaf pile. He wished that he had asked Brachyn how to do this. He coughed nervously. The snoring paused briefly, and then continued. 

"Ahem" he coughed louder this time. 

No response. 

What would Ehn'ki'du, the Father of all Quar, the Law Giver do?

He grabbed a stick.

Aiming for what he hoped was the thickest end of the pile, he gave it a firm poke.

With a squeak, a snout thrust violently from the other end of the leaf pile. "We'd better be under attack or the Caerten's set himself on fire again!" The snout snarled angrily. 

"Uhhh.... tea's up, Master-Yawdryl." Podwyn gestured with the steaming mug he held as an offering. "You said to wake you before Stand-To."

Master-Yawdryl Vaark sat up, still wrapped in his blanket, dry leaves falling from him like a tree in autumn. "So I did, so I did!" Podwyn gave him the mug of strong dark tea. The Master-Yawdryl took a satisfying slurp. "That's the stuff! We'll make a rhyfler of you yet, Pudding."

'Pudding' was his nickname in the company after a memorable weekend pass. He held out a wrapped bundle. "Cook sent along breakfast. Grubs in a bun."

"Champion!" Vaark took the sandwich and nodded. "Report."

Podwyn opened his Field Message Pad, and while the Master-Yawdryl ate, recited the events of the night, passed on from Duty NCO to Duty NCO. "A herd of wild Faerfs passed Huwl's post at 0315 hours." 

Vaark nodded. "Which way?"

Podwyn consulted his notes. "Uhhh... South to north. Came within 25 meters of Huwl." Podwyn paused. 

Vaark nodded, finished his sandwich, and stood up. With efficient, practiced motions, he shook the leaves off of his blanket, rolled it up and tied it to the top of his pack. He put on his helmet and checked his Bogen.

"Right! We've been rumbled."

He stretched his neck looking around the bivouac site at the peacefully sleeping piles of leaves among the trees. "Right. My mug seems to be empty. I'm going to see Cook for a refill and you get everyone up. Quietly. O Group at the CP in twenty."

Faerfs moving before dawn was definitely off. He suspected that the big quadrapeds had been spooked by a Blue patrol. Maybe not. But he trusted his snout. And better to be overly cautious than get ambushed. They'd need to slide West before continuing South to the target. He shouldered his pack and picked up his Bogen. They should move again as soon as everyquar was up and fed. 

But first more tea.

He went to find Cook. And then Caerten Bleg. In that order. He couldn't face the Caerten or a Contact with the Blues without more caffeine first.

Yawdryls. You can tell they're NCOs because they're pointing. The blue one is gesturing with a cigar. But he's still pointing. At you. Pointing out all of your faults. Pointing out that you're a horrible wee quar and a disgrace to your ancestors. 3d printed bodies, packs, heads and arms.

Ryshi gunners. Turns out I was short three of these to finish my sections.

These and the Yawdryls all use the "running Crusader" torso released on the MyMiniFactory Tribe

Very multi-media Quar. 3d printed resin bodies and packs. Plastic arms left over from a sprue. Metal ammunition pouches. One of them also has a lot of Airfix gap filler putty to make the arms work.

Couldn't get left arm to line up with rhyfle, so I went for the "reaching for a magazine" pose.

1 piece 3d printed resin ammunition carriers for the Spalgen Anti-tractor torpedoes. I love how goofy these are, and even without eyes or mouths, they manage to look suitably anxious.

I'm getting a sixth one printed, so that each torpedo launcher will have two ammo carriers. Then they can fill the role of a Rifle Grenade section for mirroring British WW1 platoon tactics.

First official Quar tractor; an Alithean. Four whole pieces; tracks, turret, hatch and commander.

The turret is hollow,  giving you a couple of nice big cavities to put your fingers in and a central cross support to grip while you paint it

His left arm was misprinted, so switched it for a pointing cigar.

Every AFV needs stowage. In my head the boxes are rations. Tins of moth soup and corned grubs.

Civilian mechanic, painted two different ways. One piece print.

Every Senior NCO I've ever known was kept going by caffeine and anger.

Plastic body with 3d printed arms from the Tribe

I thought about putting something like "I [heart] Dad" but decided a regimental badge was simpler. He bought it at the Quar equivalent of the Regimental Kitshop or PX (or the CANEX for my Canadian readers) and it's been in his pack ever since.

The Tribe subscription is certainly paying off. Hopefully these additions will make playing Quar of Command easier for my friends. Even I found it hard to designate Junior Big Quar which made it awkward. 

But pointing or waving troops forward should be a good visual identifier without resorting to different bases or labeling or trying to colour code.

Thundering Dice 2-24

Slower schedules and vacations means that the Mad Padre and I have been able to connect for another of our Sleep Over Playdates. I think this was our second for this year. 

I recall we had hopes of doing this 3 or 4 times a year. But things change alas. Adapt and move on as my old Sergeant-Major said.

This time the logistics worked so that I drove up to scenic Collingwood Ontario where Michael is a pastor, to hang out at his 170 year old rectory where the Padre has his gaming stuff.

Lovely and bright. Room for at least four players I think around the 5x6 table. 

Dresser drawers are storing gaming aides and terrain 

Most of his board games, sorted by period.

First game we bashed around with a couple of small learning games of Honours of War. Interesting. Definitely worth more time. Maybe I feel positive because I squeaked a win in game 1.

Russians 

Russian cavalry

Prussian cavalry

Prussians 

Let's see how charges work, shall we?

I envelope the Prussian left and break that battalion of Fusiliers 

I learn how charging steady, well trained Prussian Musketeers works (hint: it doesn't!). 

Game 2

After dinner, Mike got out one of his many hex and counter games. But just a small one:

I quickly grasped the novel turn sequence and the essence of the thing. Attacked with my legions lead by my praetors while everyone else supported their flanks. Two sacked Spanish cities and 5 VPs later, I got a Triumph and the honorific "Hispanicus Maximus. "

The next day I set up my Quar. 

Two forces are pushing into a heavily fought over section of No Quar's Land to try and straighten the Front. 

Field gun put some hurt on my tractor

My cavalry finally got to fight each other. They charged each other three times, until the Royalists broke in the last fight.

I was greedy and wanted ALL THE QUAR on the table! Consequently Mike had trouble tracking everything. Doing 2 SPs per figure is great if you want more units to accommodate 6 players,  3 of whom are conversant with the rules. I should have just done fewer units and had 10 quar per section (1 SP per figure) to keep it simpler.

After dinner we went for a nostalgic game of Longstreet. Mike has been working on his 28mm ACW for many decades, and we played the heck out of it when he lived much closer. We even attempted a couple of short campaigns. 

My veteran Texas brigade 

My Green but enthusiastic Mississippi brigade 

"Forward boys!"

Limbers get a +1 for coolness

It was hot & deadly work at the bloody battle of Rectory Creek. The Fate of the Republic was dependent upon this day's endeavors!

The Republic was saved. 

My Mississippians spilled a lot of blood fighting back and forth through this wheat field 

Texans firefight with some Union in the woods

With a Rebel Yell

Texans clear out the woods and try turning the Union flank 

Texans try to smash through, but are stopped by the Irish Brigade who came up from reserve at the double 

Another charge into the blood soaked wheat

End of game. The Confederacy is spent. The Union has one regiment still in reserve. 

Yes, the Republic was saved. 

Whereas I, Gen. Beauregard T. Robicheaux, retired to my plantation in Mississippi to heap blame and opprobrium upon a political rival for the loss.

We closed our Lad's Weekend watching the 1958 Stanley Kubrick film Paths of Glory. Before I headed for home after breakfast, Mike gifted me this splendid Front Rank figure, painted as Archduke Charles, ready to lead my whitecoats to glory!