EARDISLEY FALLS TO OUR BRAVE BOYS!
MASSACRE OF THE LIGHT LANCERS:
Colonel Trimingham “would have faced a court martial” - if he wasn’t already very, very dead
TREACHEROUS USE OF ITALIAN AIR POWER
ARROWSMITH’S FIGHTING RETREAT
As it may have been…..
The day of the battle dawned bright and clear (because that’s what days of battle always do, except when a chance card is drawn, and hence it rained from Turn 1, but let us not get ahead of the story) as a dust stained and exhausted messenger (because that’s what messengers always are) handed the Bishop of Ludlow a note of the latest dispositions of the enemy infesting Eardisley.
To the left, in the cornfield, what appeared to be an entire Panzer Battalion imported by the Fascists from the recent events in Spain (“Oh, don’t worry”, said J., their commander, rather generously in the circumstances, “They’re really quite useless. Always getting blown up. Even the specially modified one with the autocannon. Don’t know why I bring them at all. Junk really, tin cans....”) supported by hordes of infantry within Eardisley itself. To the right, black clad BUF infantry cohorts lined the convenient hedgeline with reserves and cavalry behind. In the centre, a mortar spotter next to a behemoth of a tank (“2 heavy machine guns in subsidiary turrets, a co-axial heavy machine gun, and the main gun, all able to fire independently” snarled Captain Arrowsmith, the BUF commander, because Fascists always snarl….)
The Bishop of Ludlow gulped and turned to the Anglican Commander in Chief.
“I do hope you have a cunning plan.”
“Indeed I do. Most cunning. Worthy of Schlieffen himself.” the Anglican Commander twirled his luxuriant moustaches with vigour and determination (because that’s what, etc. etc. - and it was Mort.)
“You will take the right. Move forward. Simon here will take the left. He will move forward. My forces shall advance simultaneously along the railway line in the centre, and then...”
The Bishop leaned forward. “And then?”