P P P Pick Up A Penguin

 Date-Whenever.

Place-Somewhere In Antarctica.

      Tonight’s skirmish found us in Antarctica with an another two against two skirmish involving the capture of penguins What could be more historical or maybe hysterical?The opponents tonight were myself and my U-Boat crew partnered with Herr O’ Brien and his Inuits (yes I know we are in the Antarctic).Against our forces for good were El Presidente’s Canucks and Oor Andrew’s American scientists (definitely the worst bed partners).The rules used were 7TV and unusual for El Presidente there was only one woman figure and she got potted.

Meine Junge kommt

 

The flying saucer without the Thing.

       

Polar bears eying up their next meal.

As I said there were penguins involved and they were all scattered about the white playing field ready to be gathered up for some zoo no doubt.So once again when the game kicked off everybody started on their mad rush to feather their nest even although penguins don’t have feathers.

Some Antarctic Native Dancing.

Edge Of The World 

Edge Of The World Part 2.

    Herr O’Brien had never played these rules before and it showed as he was not his usual charge in and kill everybody self especially as El Presidente had seemed to have dumbed down his side not even giving him a leader.My Junge made up for it by heading straight for all the nearby penguins and gathering them up with one of my lads heading for a nearby parked Snow Cat hoping that it would start.

U-Boat Crew.

Penguin Trying To Hitch A Lift.

Ditto.

  My lads started mowing up the penguins hoping to have the game in the hand and were doing well before El Presidente drew a random event card which swapped one of his cronies with one of mein Junge.His character magically appeared in front of one of my matelots and my lad appeared in the midst of 4 of his all with rifles loaded.Mind you it took a fair few shots to polish my lad off.

Penguin Complete With Naughty Armband And Salute.

Herr O’Brien’s Inuits.

Damn Yankees.

Canucks.

     On the other side of the board the yanks as usual were picking on the locals hoping to make them all Americans and also true to form kidnapping all the penguins.If you look closely at El Presidente’s penguins you’ll see that they had already succumbed to the propaganda.Herr O ‘Brien did do away with the only female on the board but found the yanks at their bullying best.

My lad appearing amongst the Canucks.

And the reciprocated Canuck.

Your mine baby!

The Antarctican Polar Bears.

      Since Herr O’Brien didn’t possess any leaders it stalled his advances into the yankee fold resorting to skirmishing in the woods or around the crashed flying saucer that was only there for show and no Thing was going to appear from it-Bah!

Skirmishing around the Saucer.

   

My Commandeered Snow Cat.

 My squad had been depleted with only the snow cat driving around aimlessly remaining until I found that I could resurrect one of my fingers so amidst the cackles from the enemy I drove back to the edge of the board in order to receive another figure.The problem is that it was a little too late as Herr O’Brien’s innocent Inuits were being massacred for not wanting to indulge in the American dream.

Last Stand At The Saucer.

     The final whistle blew and lo and behold this side of the team of goodness had acquired the highest amount of penguins saving them from a future of high tariffs.

       Another great game played in the usual cat calling and accusations but at least the good guys won.

      All figures,scenery and scenario provided by El Presidente.See you all soon with another delve into the Boshin War. I wonder if Billy Connolly will be there this time.

   This has been a Garvald Film Production.

The Pub With No Beer!

Place-The Winchester(Garvald’s Other Pub)

Time-1938ish(Just Before Opening Time)

       Everybody was heading for the pub tonight-well at least 4VBCW factions with two unholy alliances of Commies and Fascists on one side and the Anglican league ganging up with some Scottish militia which included with of all things a cricket team(must have been Freuchie)on the other side.The pub in question was The Winchester which had been moved from the Shaun of the Dead London suburbs for the evening to the sleepy hollows of Garvald. 

All Roads Lead To The Pub.

Open For Business.

The Bus Is Back.

   

Somewhere To Phone For A Carry Oot.

Gathering this evening were a quartet of regulars with our usual late arrival Oor Andrew.As well as myself and El Presidente we were joined by Herr O’Brien and Mr Ray whereas Herr O’Brien being there early had first dibbs in factions to which he duly assumed command of the BUF. I staked a claim on the Scottish militia which comprised some lads dressed In French uniform with Anglican league helmets,some members of the local suffragette movement and a team of cricketers-what could be more Scottish,Morris dancers?Mr Ray took charge of the Anglican faction while latecomer Andrew was given charge of the Communist lads & lassies.Always female squads when El Presidente runs a game.

Mr Ray Hits The Road First.

Here Comes The Evil Fascisti.

And The Gallant Scots.

With The Dastardly Commies Bringing Up The Rear.

       The object of the game was to be the last standing person holding up the bar in the Winchester seeing if the shotgun was loaded(watch the film).As we were fighting jointly the rule that was that if two people of the same side were in charge at the end a bar room brawl would ensue. 

The Fascisti Touting For Business.

While Mr Ray’s Firemen Get Ready To Put Out The BUF Fire.

My Girls Move Up.

And Taking The Kitchen Sink With Them.

   
 

My Glorious Post Office Rocket Troop Sending Their Packages First Class Of Course.

So once again as it is with these games everybody headed for the centre of town with their various units and so it was that Herr O’Brien went charging in with his armoured car hoping to get the first round in. I charged in similarly with my Lanchester armoured backed up by a removal van full of my lads hoping to get entrenched in the pub(can’t think of a better place to be).Mr Ray accompanied me with his MK1V tank and his bus load of ladies obviously hoping there were plenty of G&T’s on offer.El Presidente chugged up behind with his converted bus and a steam truck.All roads led to the pub(literally).A couple of hopeful shots were fired but alas no real damage.Beer and pizza break was called so we all traipsed off to our own pub for some foaming ale and very nice it was.

“No F’ng Windows Donald!”

Here Come The Freuchie Fighters.

The Red Rabble Get Out Their Bus Probably Not Having Paid For Their Fare.

The Girls’Bus.

          Upon resuming hostilities Mr Ray’s ladies found themselves arriving at the back wall of the pub (with not a door or window to find Donald)so they waited their chance to rush in and claim the premises.Obviously other prying fingers were around to stop them doing so which came in the form of a squad of Reds and a squad of BUF who of course weren’t shooting at each other.Unusual bed partners!The ladies on entering first made light of the Reds Under The Beds and then the fascist interlopers albeit dwindling their numbers and being stuck out on the veranda.The Reds also scored their first success with a lucky strike on my armoured car-number!

The Red Gamekeepers And Farm Labourers Arrive.

“Everybody In!”

Red Dice Causing A Traffic Jam.

Bang Goes My Armoured Car.

     El Presidente then decided on another break which was to be followed by a silly dogfight game between respective factions with the evil axis winning on both fights giving them the chance of a free air strike.Herr O’Brien obliged by shooting up Mr Ray’s innocent firemen whilst Oor Andrew strafed my poor group of girls who were just biding their time picking daises.This evil axis will go to any extreme to win the game and get to the bar first.

Usual Support For The Fascisti.

Unusual For The Reds Though.

Mr Ray’s Hurricane Still In Flight.

Oor Warhawk.

          Our plans started to go downhill at a rapid rate of knots with first Mr Ray’s tank brewing up and his squads being decimated leaving him with a machine gun and some firemen.Outside in the back yard of the pub a squad of fascisti arrived to mess with our figs and try as we could we couldn’t eradicate them meaning our chances of entering the premises diminished as the enemy continued to draw the first dice out of the bag giving them first strike and Oor Andrew time to set up ambushes with his last squad as once again our Post Office rocket team struck lucky and decimated his second squad.

A Flaming Pyre.

Don’t Know How He Missed The Building?

Strafing The Innocent Waifs.

Whilst My Warhawk Takes A Few With Him.

      My own squads try as hard as they could but overwhelming gunfire and lucky dice meant firstly my group of ……… were waylaid followed by my lady who were gunned down to the last suffragette by the evil communists who obviously didn’t believe in Votes For Women.This left my cricketers our remaining last hope but alas they were all out for a duck due to gunfire all around.It was time to draw stumps. 

The Girls Carry On Regardless.

Hopefully She’ll Not Drop That Tray.

They Obviously Don’t Know Which Way To Shoot.

Here At Last.

             An excellent game played to the usual sound of bickering and gloating.Hopefully when the enemy got to the bar it was just John Smith’s and Carlsberg left.That’ll serve them right.All figures,scenery and scenario provided by El Presidente.        

      See you all next week where I believe we are delving into the depths of 7TV.

Stopping For A Quick Smoke And A Mug Of Tea.

The Stramash Behind The Pub.

      This Has Been A Garvald Film Studio Production.