A clear six months after our last (unreported) engagement, Stiggers and I convened for a rumble. As per usual, at the close of play, there were murmurings along the lines of ‘do this more often’, ‘we must’ and ‘that was fun’. We’ll see.
Stiggers, ever a fan of American football, Trump and Mom’s apple pie played the US of A’s 2nd Rifle Company from The Battle of the Bulge and I, ever keen to play new uber weapons, although not fully fettled (kinda apt) fielded a little something from the 510th Heavy Panzer Battalion.
As ever, this recollection of events might be a little off.
Lordy, it’s almost like I forgot all about this site. But, actually, I’ve been having some work done. Not the cosmetic surgery Stigger’s sometimes suggests; house surgery. And all my toys had to be put away. All of them. Man, I’ve been living like an OCD hoarder on a Channel 4 documentary. And, even now, the toys are still pretty buried. Fortunately, I took some snaps of me Tigers in the summer. So….
Ever one for preserving symmetry and by way of offering some kinda balance on the blog, what with the previous post being some stuff about Battlefront’s Jagdpanthers, here’s some stuff about Battlefront’s Cat Killers box of joy. Read on….
Interleaved road wheels? Laid back front armour so sloped it’s nearly horizontal? Massive gun barrel projecting out almost as far as the chassis is long and threatening to take out any passer-by’s eye? Sexiest tank ever? Gotta be the Jagdpanther, hasn’t it? Well, hasn’t it?
So, after the usual email to and fro about points, book choices, dates and dietary requirements, Stiggers and I lined up for another game, chez him.
His gaff, his points call. Nine hundred and fifty. Although, I misunderstood the texted word and thought it was a flat nine hundred. Whatever, I was happy with my shout and quickly added a few points-worth of schurzen to my IIIs to bring me a little closer. Read on….
Stiggers has often waxed lyrical about Salute, the scale and the wonder of it all and how we should go. At his behest I have attended a local show, in Abingdon, can’t remember the name of it which will, doubtless, cause offence. Anyhoo, after more badgering, I decided to go and see what all the fuss was about. Added bonus: Stiggers wouldn’t be there to hold my hand. Read on….
If you’re a sad act like me, then you scour the interwebs on a near daily basis sniffing for news of new toys. I had little or no desire to field Ferdinands but when word came out that the Russian heavyweights were releasing one, well, that all changed. What can I say, I’m weak. Read on….
Stiggers and I struggle to juggle family and Flames but got together in the recent half-term for a game in his kitchen.
He left the points call to me and then, predictably, bitched about my decision – 1200 pts. Apparently, this restricted his artillery choices. Who knew? Read on….
I’ve not seen much written about this little box of tricks and, in the end, after much deliberation, I plumped up the courage and bought one.
Out of the box the first impression is of a decent enough, homespun kinda product. It looks like it might have been assembled from items gathered in a quick dash around Maplins but I can live with that. I wasn’t expecting an Apple-esque fit and finish. Mind, I wasn’t expecting quite the rough edge to the metal plate I was to discover. Read on….