THE BATTLE OF THE SANDS
Captain Grey of the Heavies shifted his weight in the saddle
to ease his old wound as his Rhinox made use of its time to chew a redweed bush
beneath him. He could hear the beasts
copious teeth making short work of a plant with all the softness of barbed wire
and wondered, not for the first time, what the inside of his stomach must look
like. He slowly turned the field
telescope around the low hills, but there was still too much dust to see
clearly. This filthy wind had kicked up so much dust in the past few days that
the steam conveyances were seizing up. He could hear their tortured joints behind him
as they struggled to maintain their pace. Only the Rhinox seemed not to care much,
whatever the weather threw at them
Their mission had begun three weeks before. Using hit and run tactics it was hoped to
break up the Prussian advance while the different columns had yet to converge
in their attack on New Brighton. It was
clear that the British Imperial force was much too small to hold but a small
section of line around the bastion of the city, making it far too vulnerable to
short range nef bombing and siege artillery. If the supply lines could be cut or severely
hampered then at least it might buy some time for reinforcements to arrive from
Britain and her allies the Russian and Confederate States.
Several flying columns had been sent out, including Greys. And so far their mission had been very
successful. Four Prussian supply columns
had been destroyed including a large artillery unit, and a further large unit
had been forced to make a retreat. But
their position was becoming increasingly tenuous and the hunter was becoming
the hunted. They had been spotted
yesterday by a Prussian nef patrol and had already evaded one force sent to
find them, though mainly by entering the sandstorm which they were just
emerging from. Their only hope now was
to get back to their lines as swiftly as possible.
Sergeant Norris emerged from around the crags in front of
Captain Grey and pulled his Rhinox to a panting halt.
“Waterhole sir..about a kilometre away. It looks like the
one the Drune marked out for us sir…has the cleft rocks just like they
described”
“Very well sergeant. Signal the column to advance. I daresay we could use the water…even these
fellows” he said, looking down as yet another redbush disappeared into the
gaping maw of his riding beast. His
mount began a guttural growl as his brain registered the presence of the other
Rhinox, fearing possibly the theft of his redbush. Grey gave him a whack with his iron poker. Best not let them start fighting. They were placid beasts, on the whole, and as
long distance mounts through this land they could not be beaten. But heaven and earth would not stop a Rhinox
that had decided to charge at something. Grey had once seen one of his troopers
frantically clinging on as his mount had hit and turned over an armoured car
belonging to the Duke of Cambridge’s light infantry. No-one had told the poor fellows about the
colour green….
The pale sun was starting to grow weaker in the sky as the
British column limped into the oasis. The
dust was settling now, enabling the men to take their dust masks off and wipe
them. Lieutenant Hughes of the armoured
car brigade was just about able to see the long row of hills to his north for
the first time in two days. He raised
his periscope and turned his turret while opening the hatch to let at least a
little fresh air into the cauldron that was the HMMS Pib. His hand froze. There, not two hundred meters away was another
column. Long rows of soldiers, cavalry
and tanks. The Prussians!
For a full twenty seconds the two columns, travelling in
different directions, looked on at each other before recognition set in. Then there was a brief moment of almost
silence when all that could be heard was the thumping regularity of steam
boilers and wheezing pistons.
Then, all hell broke loose.
Well a mighty pickle the British had got themselves into,
moving alongside a Prussian column in a sandstorm and not seeing their
adversaries until you could chuck a haggis in their nearest funnel.
The British forces on the nearest table edge are led by the
indomitable HMMS Pib (a rather nice Ironclad armoured car), followed by the
lumbering and temperamental Rhinox patrol led by Captain Grey. Following them the 58th Poobah Lancers, the
rather rusty four legged HMMS Hephaestus, a platoon of the Berkshires, the
bipedal HMMS Orca with its rather nasty flamethrower, a platoon of highlanders
and lastly Pib's cousin HMMS Pob.
On the Prussian side a party of his heli-troops are scouting
ahead, followed by an armoured car, the monstrous spider tank with twin
turrets, a large group of Lancers, forty infantry, another armoured car and a
medium tank.
In the first turn most of our steam armour managed to break
down, although some did manage to about face. This left it up to the infantry and cavalry to
start the proceedings. The Berkshires
raced up onto the dunes running parallel to their adversaries so they might get
a clear view.
They were in time to see the glorious, colourful and
ultimately FINAL charge of the Poobah Lancers as the massed ranks of forty
infantry including the elite Marztruppen opened fire. Wiped out to a man!
Meanwhile, Captain Grey had only just managed to control his
beasts and was following in the footsteps of the doomed lancers, whose
sacrifice had at least managed to get his unit into charge range next turn.
If only the beasts would be goaded by the green rag!
Meanwhile the Prussian lancers, oblivious to the carnage
inflicted on their opposite numbers, rushed through a gap in the oasis
floatwood trees to charge the unit of highlanders who had taken up firing
positions along a dried creek bed , covered by the Pob.
Oh dear! A short
distance roll meant that they didn't quite make it. And the doughty Scots got off a volley,
crashing into horses, pickelhaubes and floatwood trees. Horsemen and their mounts tumbled into the
creek. The unit however was far from
obliterated and the three officers had all managed to remain in the saddle
leading their men.
Meanwhile the British had finally managed to start up the
Hephaestus but their first shot was a miserable one as Commander
Huntleigh-Burns could attest to as he viewed it from the top deck.
The Prussians meanwhile had decided to leave their spider
tank in situ and use the twin turret mounted Gatling Cannons to sweep across
the infantry and armoured cars, with their smaller armoured cars advancing to
more tactical positions. Both the Orca and the Pob took hits, and a number of the
highlanders fell into the dust.
Back with the Rhinox, Captain Grey managed to goad his mount
into a furious charge...which completed! All three of the beasts charged through the
ranks of the Marztruppen, who tried their best to get out of the way of four
tonnes of potential sausage. Half the unit did not manage this feat and many
were simply crushed. The Rhinox halted at the end of their charge
distance...but right adjacent to the Prussian tanks! Not a good place to be.
Meanwhile the Prussian regulars led by the infamous and
rather portly Hero Count Heinrich Helmutsson were dashing through the floatwoods
towards the Berkshires. The Hephaestus managed her sustain role and the gunner
rolled a 1 to hit. 'Hurrah!' cried the navy, as the shell landed slap in the
middle of the wave of advancing blue.
Back on the British left flank, those sneaky fliers had used
the Creekbed for cover before launching a vicious attack on their rear, leaving
half the unit dead as their machine guns cackled away.
In reply they managed to destroy most of the fliers and the
single remaining model decided he's had enough. However, their attention had been distracted
by the fliers for long enough to mask the advance of the remaining cavalry, who
crashed into them. A furious melee
ensued in which the surviving Prussian cavalry officer managed to keep his men
from fleeing and kill the Scots officer. Seeing their leader killed the
Highlanders decided to call it quits and left the table. Now only a single armoured car and the heavily
damaged walker held the left, although the Prussians had too few men left to
press their advantage. In the centre
meanwhile the Berkshires met with the depleted ranks of the Prussians. Their greater numbers took their toll, as did
getting the initiative. However, the
remaining seven Prussians remained true to their great leader and returned
quite a devastating volley that forced the British back into cover.
However, the epic that was being played out was on the right
side of the table. The Rhinox, taking an entire turn to turn around were shot
at by the remaining soldiers (those unflattened ones anyway). One of the shots
got lucky, disabling one of the Rhinox tails and reducing the armour value of
another, while another shot managed to blow up the Naptha tank on the side of
Captain Grey's beast. The Hero managed
to make his save roll and landed a few feet away from the Prussian main tank,
still on his feet, to polite clapping. Wiping
his rather singed moustache, he leapt for what remained of his saddle to
re-mount. Just as he did this the main tank fired at
point blank range into his beast. Surely
they could not miss...but they did! We were playing in this game a method of
working out where failed shots landed..and this one landed only a few feet away
from the tank, catching itself in its own blast radius and knocking it out of
action! The beast also took extra damage
but managed to stay on its feet and Grey had survived a second time! Luckily the remaining armoured car was
trading shots with the Pib, which was racing (well, ambling gently) to the aid
of the captain and his men. Who in the meantime had charged for a second time
through the surviving soldiers.
Men and beast fell until all that remained were the
Marztruppen captain and one of his men, battling it out with fist and sabre
with our wounded hero, who by this time had survived another detonation from
his mount (which had finally killed it) and two sword thrusts. Grey parried and thrust his sword through the
breastplate of the German leader and swivelled to receive and give the killing
blow from his last opponent. Both forces
on the flank had completely wiped each other out!
Things were starting to look bad for the Prussians. Their
last cavalry wiped out by the rattling guns of the Pob and their armoured penny
farthing lying gently sizzling before the Orca (whose flamethrower had finally
worked), their last hope was inflicting damage with their spider tank. Heinrich
Helmutsson led a last desperate (well, as he was the only
remaining man in his unit) charge at the lumbering Hephaestus to be finally
picked off by the rifles and Gatling gun of the ship’s crew. The end was in sight. The remaining Berkshires attacked the legs of
the Spider which at last turned to face the British. But with its commander and driver killed in
the barrage of fire aimed at it, it surrendered.
This was a victory to the British but at a very high cost.
Although all their armour had in fact survived their cavalry was completely
wiped out and their infantry suffered huge losses (including those cowardly
Scots...no oatcakes for them). The Rhinox were experiments which worked fairly
well though need tweaking some. I think
that one day we'll need to do an armour only battle as these pieces tend to
stay fairly static to allow them to fire, and with turrets they become firing
platforms trying to take out the more nimble units of cavalry and infantry.
Thanks for looking!
