Battle of Neretva (Full Movie) English Subtitles

David's Cold Weather Sahadeen by Rebel Minis

Way back in May 2009, I bought a pack of Sahadeen from Rebel Minis after seeing a review of them on the Dropship Horizon blog. I eventually bought a weapons pack and a pack of Sahadeen War Maidens to go with the basic squad and then I got stuck for painting ideas.

A thread on TMP discussed the lack of suitable cold climate troops - the only figures people could suggest were either a small range from Khurasan Miniatures (which I can't find on their website) or the Scandinavian Federation figures from Ground Zero Games.

It was at this point that I began to wonder how the Sahadeen might look if painted up for a cold climate.

I decided that the breather masks would be GW Scab Red - a splash of colour in an otherwise subdued pallet of greys and middle blue armour. Bases were also painted Tamiya XF-24 Dark Grey. I then glued on scattered pieces of my green sponge/bush flock and dabbed these with Tamiya X-2 White as if they were little snow dusted bushes.

As the paint went on, the figures began to come alive and I felt, in my own mind, that my colour choice was sound. While the Sahadeen were conceived of as a desert people, their hoods and breather units and goggles could equally be used by a people living in a wet and/or cold or otherwise bleak climate.

Looking at the figures, I'm reminded of the cover art for the Andre Norton novel, Night of Masks. Set on a blasted world orbiting a red giant, anyone needing to go out on the surface has to wear both breathers and light-enhancing goggles.

So, I'm pretty pleased with the way my Sahadeen have come out, and I like the fact that with a little bit of lateral thought, one can make any science fiction figures fit into any story you wish to tell.

And here's the entire unit - two squads of riflemen, a heavy weapons squad, and an HQ squad.

See more of David's splendid work here : David's Painting and Modeling Log

BATTLEFIELD PILSEN: Project Moon Grunt

BATTLEFIELD PILSEN: Project Moon Grunt: From the blue-white vistas over Earth, to the ocher sands of Mars We are vanguard of Man´s rise, from the earth out to the stars As human...

2 Hour Blog: 5150 Bug Wars

2 Hour Blog: 5150 Bug Wars: Coming to Kickstarter in January, 5150 Bug Wars is the first of a number of joint projects from THW and  Acheson Creations . Acheson Creat...

Aliens Miniature Battle: Into the Dark

Another Great Game from GZGECC
System : Custom Aliens Miniature Battle Rules
Game Master: Ron Walls
Players:8 players

After nearly four years of producing the highest quality gold ore in the sector, the Weyland-Yutani DynaMine facility on Klondike IV is offline, status unknown. The facility failed to file a monthly production report three weeks ago and all attempts to re-establish communication have failed. The ICC has requested assistance from the Colonial Marines with a search and rescue mission heading to Klondike IV. The Marines are looking for a few good men to volunteer for this mission. Will you?

The Governor General of Sector Six: Jericho Anchorage

The Governor General of Sector Six: Jericho Anchorage: For at least 4000 years, Jericho Anchorage has been in orbit over the Sub-Sector capital of Rentlaw.  Basically, as long as records have be...

Love the ideas this man comes up with!!!!

Space1889: The Movie - Teaser/Short Film (English)

I found Armstrong's Scottish accent in German a bit hard to swallow lol, otherwise
a fine first attempt that I hope goes forward....)

Röt Hafen Saga

• Forward (by Thomas Barclay)

I am taking shameless advantage of my editorial status to add a forward to the Röt Hafen Saga. The work hardly requires a forward, but I think it deserves one. It is a large work (> 250,000 words) into which many an hour has been invested for no profit other than the joy of the work and the enjoyment of the readers. We present it here on stargrunt.ca with great pleasure, in its entirety. It has been modified to fit our presentation format and to correct the occasional typo or spelling error, but the content remains essentially pure and unchanged.
The Röt Hafen Saga is a story about some of the earliest Human-Kra'Vak interactions and gives us one possible view of the early stages of the First Intersentient War. It presents some ideas on the way that conventional and unconventional forces operate in the GZGverse and it gives us a little bit of a glimpse at one author's version of the Kra'Vak. It is, as most work created by the fans of the Ground Zero Games universe, non-canonical and unofficial. But it does represent one view of how things could be, and a compelling vision at that.
For the information of those who may not know him, Carlos is a United States Army Special Forces soldier who tends to spend large chunks of his time away visiting interesting places and doing missions which pretty much require an Elite RED-1 quality counter. But this day job gives Carlos a good feel for the military millieu and some neat ideas for how Special Operations might be carried out in the future. His experience also gives him a good feel for the kind of men that serve in these units and the way they carry themselves and how they should best be portrayed.
The interesting part of this work is not only that it obviously entertains a certain "reality", but also that much of it was played out at the game table, from small unit actions to large scale fleet battles, using Ground Zero Games rules (and of course the obligatory house mods!). This just shows what a motivated gamer (read: individual of questionable sanity) can accomplish. It also illustrates in some detail how one can put together a series of linked games to form an interesting campaign and how that campaign can be documented for the benefit of other gamers.
The question one might think to ask is: Which came first, the games that spawned the saga or the ideas for the novel which lead to scenarios? (more on this point later)
Readers should find this story gripping and action-packed. It is, as the old saying goes, "a page turner" (or perhaps, in the electronic world, "a button-clicker"). My hope is that each and every one of you will enjoy it as much as I did and that you will take the time to visit Los' website and drop him some positive feedback. He deserves it after this gigantic effort and he undoubtedly will appreciate it!
But, I digress. I'm good at that! Anyway, stop reading my work, go to the left side nav bar, and start reading Röt Hafen! (Of course, you should read the acknowledgements and copyright statement and visit the game links too, but you can do that later!).

• Acknowledgements (by Carlos Lourenco)

Thanks to everyone who helped me through this project, too many to name. First off all to the readers, many of whom I don't know but who kept up a steady stream of emails for the past 18 months. This story is for you.
Thanks to all on the GZG mailing list for providing the motivation to start this and the encouragement to keep going. And in particular: Jon Tuffley for cooking up the great GZG series of games, Tom Barclay, Owen Glover (the real one) Brian Bell, Chris Deboe, Beth Fulton, Jon Davis, Marc Kochte, Will Keyser, Bob Makowsky, Tim Jones (for the great graphics) and everyone else who has sent me feedback, criticism, advise, graphics and help along the way.
All errors in this work are mine alone but everything done right is the sum of all of the contributions.
I'd also like to thank the real members of ODA 946 and other Company A guys I've served with. Together they provided the experiences that form the foundation for the action here, (especially Ken).

Special acknowledgements must be made to the people who contributes the images which helped realize the Röt Hafen Saga. These people include....
Two last people to thank: One is my beautiful wife Natalie. She put up with all these late nights of obsession and also helped with the proofing (I am going to go back and incorporate all the changes now as well as add more GZG-gming pertinent information) and the other is Kurt Wasserman. He provided close on-going technical support and also helped me game out many of these battles, acting patiently as the kra'Vak commander while fighting usually with one arm tied behind his back. Weaselboy is da man!

• Copyright Notice

First, I refer readers to our site copyright notice here. Further to the general statement of copyright, Carlos has added his own statement which also applies (reproduced following my notes). The content of the Röt Hafen Saga is exclusively the intellectual property of Carlos Lourenco and our reproduction of his e-novel here is done with his written permission.

The Röt Hafen Saga, ©Carlos Lourenco, 1998.
Los' Notice:

I have written these stories for no other reason than pure enjoyment. The terms NSL, NAC and maybe a few others are copyright Ground Zero Games. Their use in the story is without permission and not meant as a challenge to said copyrights. If you plan to post it to your page GIVE ME CREDIT. ENJOY! These stories may not be used by anyone for profit or for sale. Copywright: Carlos Lourenco 1998.

Rot Hafen Saga

Donald Featherstones Solo Wargaming

A bit of nostalgia here, and perhaps somewhat dated but
a welcome addition to my war games library none the less!
I was very happy to find this on Amazon.

TANK TACTICS: Tank Strategic Warfare (720p)

 

We now interrupt our regularly scheduled political chaos with

a little "Cold War Madness" just for perspective......)   

 

 

WWPD: Wargames, Board Games, RPGs, LCGs, and more!: Leopard Arrives to Adrenalize Team Yankee

 

 

WWPD: Wargames, Board Games, RPGs, LCGs, and more!: Leopard Arrives to Adrenalize Team Yankee:   By Mitch Reed and Luke Melia   The good people over at Battlefront supplied us with an advanced copy of the first follow on module for ...

Delta Vector: "Dreadnought" and the Emptiness of Space: Making S...

 

 

Delta Vector: "Dreadnought" and the Emptiness of Space: Making S...: Regular readers will be familiar with my dissatisfaction with current space games; most are variations on "WW2-in-space" and play ...

Tanker's Tuesday: In The Beginning

 

 

THE LAND IRONCLADS

 

The young lieutenant lay beside the war correspondent and admired the idyllic calm of the enemy's lines through his field glass.

'So far as I can see,' he said at last, 'one man.'

'What's he doing?' asked the war correspondent.

'Field-glass at us,' said the young lieutenant.

'And this is war?'
 

'No,' said the young lieutenant, 'it's Bloch.'

'The game's a draw.'

'No! They've got to win or else they lose. A draw's a win for our side.'

Bloch - Ivan (Jan) S. Bloch, a pre-WWI Polish writer who held that war between major powers would be an impracticable stalemate, bankrupting the participants without producing decisive victory.

They had discussed the political situation fifty times or so, and the war correspondent was weary of it. He stretched out his limbs.

'Aaai s'pose it is!' he yawned.

Flut!

'What was that?'

'Shot at us.'

The war correspondent shifted to a slightly lower position.

'No one shot at him,' he complained.

'I wonder if they think we shall get so bored we shall go home•'

The war correspondent made no reply.

'There's the harvest, of course....'

They had been there a month. Since the first brisk movements after the declaration of war things had gone slower and slower, until it seemed as though the whole machine of events must have run down. To begin with, they had had almost a scampering time; the invader had come across the frontier on the very dawn of the war in half-a-dozen parallel columns behind a cloud of cyclists and cavalry, with a general air of coming straight on the capital, and the defender horsemen had held him up, and  peppered him and forced him to open out, to outflank, and had then bolted to the next position in the most approved style, for a couple of days, until in the afternoon, bump! they had the invader against their prepared lines of defence. He did not suffer so much as had been hoped and expected: he was coming on, it seemed, with his eyes open, his scouts winded the guns, and down he sat at once without the shadow of an attack and began grubbing trenches for himself, as though he meant to sit down there to the very end of time. He was slow, but much more wary than the world had been led to expect, and he kept convoys tucked in and shielded his slow-marching infantry sufficiently well to prevent any heavy adverse scoring.

'But he ought to attack,' the young lieutenant had insisted.

'He'll attack us at dawn, somewhere along the lines. You'll get the bayonets coming into the trenches just about when you can see,' the war correspondent had held until a week ago.

The young lieutenant winked when he said that.

When one early morning the men the defenders sent to lie out five hundred yards before the trenches, with a view to the unexpected emptying of magazines into any night attack, gave way to causeless panic and blazed away at nothing for ten minutes, the war correspondent understood the meaning of that wink.

'What would you do if you were the enemy?' said the war correspondent, suddenly.

'If I had men like I've got now?'

'Yes.'

'Take those trenches.'

'How?'

'Oh - dodges! Crawl out half-way at night before moon-rise, and get into touch with the chaps we send out. Blaze at 'em if they tried to shift, and so bag some of 'em in the daylight. Learn that patch of ground by heart, lie all day in squatty holes, and come on nearer next night. There's a bit over there, lumpy ground, where they could get across to rushing distance - easy.

In a night or so. It would be a mere game for our fellows; it's what they're made for.... Guns? Shrapnel and stuff wouldn't stop good men who meant business.'

'Why don't they do that?'

'Their men aren't brutes enough; that's the trouble. They're a crowd of devitalized townsmen, and that's the truth of the matter. They're clerks, they're factory hands, they're students, they're civilized men. They can write, they can talk, they can make and do all sorts of things, but they're poor amateurs at war. They've got no physical staying power, and that's the whole thing. They've never slept in the open one night in their lives; they've never drunk anything but the purest water-company water; they've never gone short of three meals a day since they left their feeding-bottles. Half their cavalry never cocked leg over horse till it enlisted six months ago. They ride their horses as though they were bicycles – you watch 'em! They're fools at the game, and they know it. Our boys of fourteen can give their grown men points. ... Very well –'

The war correspondent mused on his face with his nose between his knuckles.

"If a decent civilization,' he said, 'cannot produce better men for war than –'

He stopped with belated politeness. 'I mean –'

'Than our open-air life,' said the young lieutenant.

'Exactly,' said the war correspondent. 'Then civilization has to stop.'

'It looks like it,' the young lieutenant admitted.

'Civilization has science, you know,' said the war correspondent. 'It invented and it made the rifles and guns and things you use.'

'Which our nice healthy hunters and stockmen and so on, rowdy-dowdy cowpunchers and nigger-whackers, can use ten times better than – What's that?'

'What?'  said the war correspondent, and then seeing his companion busy with his field-glass he produced his own: 'Where?' said the war correspondent, sweeping the enemy's lines.

'It's nothing,' said the young lieutenant, still looking.

'What's nothing?'

The young lieutenant put down his glass and pointed. 'I thought I saw something there behind the stems of those trees. Something black. What it was I don't know.'

The war correspondent tried to get even by intense scrutiny.

'It wasn't anything,' said the young lieutenant, rolling over to regard the darkling evening sky, and generalized: 'There never will be anything any more for us. Unless –'

The war correspondent looked inquiry.

"They may get their stomachs wrong, or something - living without proper drains.'

A sound of bugles came from the tents behind. The war correspondent slid backward down the sand and stood up. 'Boom!' came from somewhere far away to the left. 'Halloa!' he said, hesitated, and crawled back to peer again. 'Firing at this time is jolly bad manners.'

The young lieutenant was uncommunicative for a space.

Then he pointed to the distant clump of trees again. 'One of our big guns. They were firing at that,' he said.

'The thing that wasn't anything?'

Something over there, anyhow.'

Both men  were silent, peering through their glasses for a space. 'Just when it's twilight,' the lieutenant complained. He stood up.

'I might stay here a bit,' said the war correspondent.

The lieutenant shook his head. 'There's nothing to see,' he apologized, and  then went down to where his little squad of sun-brown, loose-limbed men had been yarning in the trench. The war correspondent stood up also, glanced for a moment at the businesslike bustle below him, gave perhaps twenty seconds to those enigmatical trees again, then turned his face toward the camp.

He found himself wondering whether his editor would consider the story, of how somebody thought he saw something black behind a clump of trees, and how a gun was fired at this illusion by somebody else, too trivial for public consumption.

'It's the only gleam of a shadow of interest,' said the war correspondent, 'for ten whole days.

'No,' he said presently; 'I'll write that other article, "Is War Played Out?"'

He surveyed the darkling lines in perspective, the tangle of trenches one behind another, one commanding another, which the defender had made ready. The shadows and mists swallowed up their receding contours, and here and there a lantern gleamed, and here and there knots of men were busy about small fires. 'No troops on earth could do it,' he said....

He was depressed. He believed that there were other things in life better worth having than proficiency in war; he believed that in the heart of civilization, for all its stresses, its crushing concentrations of forces, its injustice and suffering, there lay something that might be the hope of the world; and the idea that any people, by living in the open air, hunting perpetually, losing touch with books and art and all the things that intensify life, might hope to resist and break that great development to the end of time, jarred on his civilized soul.

Apt to his thought came a file of the defender soldiers, and passed him in the gleam of a swinging lamp that marked the way.

He glanced at their red-lit faces, and one shone out for a moment, a common type of face in the defender's ranks: ill shaped nose, sensuous lips, bright clear eyes full of alert cunning, slouch hat cocked on one side and adorned with the peacock's plume of the rustic Don Juan turned soldier, a hard brown skin, a sinewy frame, an open, tireless stride, and a master's grip on the rifle.

The war correspondent returned their salutations and went on his way.

'Louts,' he whispered. 'Cunning, elementary louts. And they are going to beat the townsmen at the game of war!'

From the red glow among the nearer tents came first one and then half-a-dozen hearty voices, bawling in a drawling unison the words of a particularly slab and sentimental patriotic song.

'Oh, go it!' muttered the war correspondent, bitterly.
 Part 2

"War of the Worlds" 1971 Broadcast- Just Awesome.

Jeff Wayne, Liam Neeson, Gary Barlow - The Eve of the War (War of the Wo...

Morval Earth : The Inch High Club

On these  pages you will find information and pictures about those tiny warriors who fight the battles of history, the present day and the future.  They do so in a myriad of homes and clubs throughout the world.  Their owners and commanders derive a great deal of pleasure from them.  Ours is a hobby of research, modelling, painting, collecting, organising and playing.  We regard it as a fun social event to be shared though sometimes it is, like many pleasures, enjoyed alone.  Our miniature soldiers and armies fight their way through jungles, over mountains and in deserts.  They face foes from all over the world, throughout time and from Hollywood! 

These pages are dedicated to those who play with little soldiers and all their equipment, their vehicles, their weapons, their aircraft and ships. 

The pages reflect the interests of our little group of friends.

http://www.morvalearth.co.uk/Inch_High_Club/Inch_High_Intro.htm

Tanker's Tuesday: Retro-Steampowered

Breakthroughs in power technology in the late 19th Century made possible large steam-powered fighting vehicles as early as 1880. Upon hearing of German experimental models, the British established the RNLS (Royal Naval Land Service) in 1882, and the French and Americans soon followed suit. The German landship sent to Ouargistan for testing so awed the native chiefs that the other powers had to bring in landships of their own to save face, launching an absurd arms race in the primitive subcontinent. This is the fictional universe for the Landships of Ouargistan games.

LANDSHIPS

The Battle of Al Bunrab

Ouargistan's Landship Trafalgar

Al Bunrab was the first, and the best, of the landship battles. David had handed Steve, Max, and Charles boxes of assorted parts, junk and makeshift tools, and asked everyone to build at least one land ironclad; when the day came, there were eight landships plus lesser vehicles. It was a festive event, captured for posterity in the video images below.

Charles and David came up with the scenario. Rules were a simplified version of The Sword and the Flame, plus David's Landships of Ouargistan rules, which (it is to be hoped) will be available on the Landships page soon.

AL BUNRAB

Yellowbird Down

The desperate struggle of two isolated aircrews cut off in downtown Mogadishu. The various warring factions of Mogadishu have been roused by a warring Dervish tribe from the North East. The disparate tribes hold a meeting in Mogadishu to determine the best way to rid themselves of the Italian occupation troops.


Any resemblance to a current movie, is purely coincidental. http://www.warflag.com/shadow/yellowb/yellowbirddown.html  

Draconis Alba Galaxy

Draconis Alba Galaxy