Blod sat in the dug out, tending the stove, waiting for the tin can that he used as a kettle to boil for the Is-Caerten's tea. Nearby the heavy guns that 8th Company were protecting thumped away rhythmically, their sure steady beat of doom counting towards some uncertain Armageddon. With each bellowing discharge dirt shook loose and fell in a fine rain on everything in the Command Post. It was a constant struggle to keep his young officer clean and respectable looking here in the trenches, but he managed. He had a chipped plate and an old ration tin lid covering the Is-Caerten's mug and the tea pot. A cloth that was adjacent to clean covered the plate of fried termites and biscuits he had ready.
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Dawn. Ready for a shoot. |
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One of the new gun pits |
Foldgyhth'wlech sat down and removed the cloth. "Biscuits! However do you manage?"
"It's ma Nan's recipe. She taught me as a kit." Blod said, pouring boiled water from the tin into the teapot.
The Is-Caerten piled some fried termites onto a biscuit and bit in with obvious delight. "Goodness me! Which Ancestor has blessed me that I've got you as my Bootbuck?"
"That'd be the Master-Yawdryl, sir" Blod said, picking up Foldgyhth'wlech's spare tunic, which needed mending.
"How is your Nan, then?" Foldgyhth'wlech said, pressing on with his cheerful assault.
"With the Ancestors, sir" Blod said quietly, fingers busy with needle and thread.
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German trench mortar |
"'s'arright, sir" Blod said quietly. He pointed with his snout to the corner where his pallet was. Above it a small photograph sat on a board nailed to the timbers. A small candle flickered nervously in front of it. "She'd be glad to know you like her biscuits an' all."
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A good sized battery |
Blod watched all this quietly and choked back a slight sniffle.
"Ta, sir. Means a lot, that."
He continued eating while Blod continued mending.
"When we are in Reserve again, we shall gather flowers for her too," Foldgyhth'wlech pronounced.
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Trench mortar in a trench! Trying the new weapons bay for size. |
Just then, Berk from 3rd Squad hustled in panting. "Yawdryl Hypfrth says your needed a' Trench Mortar right away, sir!" Without waiting, Berk disappeared again.
Is-Caerten Gwyffyth ap Foldgyhth'wlech stood up and put the last biscuit and fried termites in his mouth before reaching for his rain cape. "No rest for the weary, eh?"
At the door he turned with a wink. "Keep the tea warm." Then he was gone up the trench.
Blod set down the mending and made sure that the Is-Caerten's sword was clean and sharp, and that extra magazines for his pistol were ready. Then he checked the action on his own rhyfle, making sure everything was clean.
Just in case there's more going on than Yawdryl Hypfrth needing a requisition signed for more high explosive bombs. And, he thought to himself, a rhyfler's pride is a clean rhyfle.
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I ordered more trench pieces from Ironclad Miniatures earlier this summer and finally got them painted. I used the same recipe as last time, but there is still variation in the finish.
Three more gun pits, another intersection, another weapons bay, and six zig-zag connecting trench pieces. So I think I've increased my total trenches by about 50%. The three gun pits now means that I can do a proper Brequar Manor layout with four guns to eliminate. The zig-zag pieces will also mean I can do proper zig-zag trenches instead of long straight sections, and hopefully have some interesting fighting along a trench.
I am pondering how to rig camouflage netting over the guns and perhaps some overhead cover for the weapons bays, so they could have a machine gun.
The Tollyn-Maeryn are lacking support weapons, so I asked for some German trench mortars to go with them. I've always liked the look of the squat little trench mortars. I assembled two dismounted from their carriage. But because I like the look of it, one is on it's carriage for some hasty firing.
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