Bad Day at Blood River

Keeping with tradition, the write-up for my Cold Wars 2001 game was supplied by Rick Norton, who commanded the British relief column snaking its way across Zululand to the besieged defenders of Fort Henderson.

Cold Wars was a blast, but despite an early registration I didn't get in any of the Friday or Saturday games that I was hoping for (my thanks to those game masters who took pity on my waiflike appearance, their games were a hoot). Luckily, I had a seat at the Angle's 10mm Zulu extravaganza and so the unthinkable—to go through Cold Wars without a colonial set-to—was avoided.

Blood River marked a departure from the Angle's usual offering in that the troops were small in scale—10mm from Perrin Miniatures. Did that make any difference in the quality of the presentation? Absolutely not. The scenery was impressive and the troops stunning. How good were they? Allow me to quote the Angle's description of a command figure to one of our players. "You can tell he's a cavalryman. He has two white stripes down his leg." It was true. He did.

The Angle will no doubt downplay his painting expertise and praise the quality of the figures. They are worthy of praise. If 10mm speaks to you in any way, Perrin is a source you should investigate. Crisp, easily identifiable, and surprisingly detailed, they paint up very nicely indeed. And if WWII is your arena, Perrin's line in that regard is already excellent and looks to be heading for an astonishing selection. Tired of micro-armor? Play with the big guys and go 10mm. (As a 25/28 gamer, I never thought I'd say that.) And no, I've nothing to do with Perrin and Co.

To be sure there were benefits in using 10mm. The table becomes a vast expanse of a battlefield. Ox teams numbered six, just as they should have, not four or two, and the column was appropriately long. There were lots of figures in motion. Despite the smaller size, the various imperial units (both impis and regiments) were easy to identify. As mentioned, my collection is all 25s and 28s, so I don't think I will buy 10mm colonials. But I would not shy from playing with them—and if your space or budget are limited, I would recommend them.

The thrust of the game was simple. March the supply column down the valley and relieve Fort Henderson. I was selected/elected as supreme British commander and tactical CO of the Natal Native Contingent. (I got the first job as much because the NNC were expected to rapidly evaporate once contact was made.)

Lt. Colonel the Honorable Hervey Throckmorton, KCB, gazed about the veldt with easy confidence. Although that idiot Chelmsford had managed to get most of his column knackered a bare ten miles from Rorke's Drift, Throckmorton felt sure the war could quickly be brought to a successful conclusion. And, he reflected, Chelmsford's error could well make future successes appear all the more glorious. Just look at the attention that was being paid to those clots, Bromhead and Chard.

And there was something especially crowd-pleasing in breaking a siege. He had seen that during the mutiny. Glancing at the relief column stretching out more than a mile, he imagined numerous laudatory headlines back in England.

The plan was simple enough. The NNC would scout to the left, the mounted units would scout to the right, and the infantry would closely flank the column as it moved down the valley. Rather than immediately laager, we thought it would be more realistic to press the relief effort. There were a lot of Zulu markers on the board, but we knew many of them would be decoys. At first all seemed to be going well. The NNC began to identify clumps of Zulus and traded desultory shots with several groups of them. The cavalry were performing similar tasks and spotted a very large unit right where they were expected to be—in the notch between the two hills. At this point, a startling idea presented itself.

Forty-five minutes later Throckmorton was more satisfied than ever. The NNC were flushing and holding the dreaded Impis, rather than scampering at the first sign of a real Zulu. This was much better than expected. It looked as if the Zulus on the left were not in any hurry to hurl themselves onto leveled Martini-Henrys. So much the better. His cavalry reported a mass of Zulus lying in wait forward and to the right. They were where he had expected them to be. With the cavalry behind them they were potentially wedged between hammer and anvil. Hammer and anvil? Now there was an idea. If Throckmorton could crush the right wing of the Zulu force, it might put the others to flight. It would certainly make getting through easier. Moving his artillery forward and deploying his firing lines, Throckmorton smiled as he imagined the mass of milling Zulus taking fire from in front and behind.

Slowly the envelopment began to take shape. But the Zulus didn't wait. On the left, the NNC finished identifying the last of the decoys. There were many Zulus there, but their progress toward the column seemed unhurried. The Zulus to the right surged forward, but the firing line was ready. And then the unidentified units to the front of the column revealed themselves to be the biggest single unit of Zulus yet. The British had put their heads into a bag.

Lowering his binoculars, Throckmorton could not help but be impressed by the NNC. They were taking moderate to heavy casualties but were falling back toward the column in good order. Some had taken up positions in heavy brush and were firing on the advancing warriors.

The situation to the right was not going quite as he had envisioned. The Zulus were on the move and it was clear that they were going to be in range of the firing line before the nutcracker could close on them. Throckmorton resolved to recall the infantry and the cavalry. Then he swept the ground in front of him and stiffened. Pounding toward him was a huge mass of Zulus. So, they had not found all the impis after all and the warriors were coming for him in their classic buffalo attack. Throckmorton ordered the wagons to form closely and deployed his infantry in the shape of an L. The artillery unlimbered and the gunners rammed home shrapnel. One infantry company was badly out of position. Still, if the NNC could manage to only slightly delay the left horn, Throckmorton was convinced that he could savage the right, pin the head and move troops to deal with the left in time.

With expected precision the British infantry and artillery began firing into the mass of Zulus. Dismounted Sikhali horse joined the firing line and added their fire. While the Zulus took casualties, they did not take many casualties. Leaders began exhorting the men to increase the rate of fire and additional volleys crashed out. Once again Zulu losses were low and the mass of warriors kept charging. Ignoring the not very heavy punishment from the Martini Henrys, the right wing crashed into the line.

Throckmorton now found himself very busy. Steadying the firing line to the front, his example allowed the men to fire volley after volley. The results were not encouraging. The left horn was impaling itself on his infantry's bayonets, but redcoats were falling and feathered headdresses were seen among the column. To the left the NNC had established a thin line but the enemy was approaching at increasing speed. For the first time, the Lt. Col felt a tendril of doubt.

The right horn appeared to be more or less checked and then the mass of Zulus in front of them crashed into the line and where there had been order was now chaos. Both gun crews were swept away. The Sikhali horse were smashed and more infantry died under the flash of assegais. British officers frantically tried to restore order. The left horn ripped through the remnants of the NNC, breaking the native unit. Drivers were pulled off their wagons and Zulus began cutting the oxen loose. Suddenly the British were fighting for survival.

Throckmorton cursed as he once again emptied his revolver into a mass of plumed Zulus. Part of his mind was still reacting with stunned disbelief. His guns were gone. His wagons were gone. The colors were still in British hands but were now the centers of desperate knots of resistance. There was no way this would be seen as anything but a disaster. There was no way the Colonel was going to endure the disgrace a disaster would bring. Drawing his saber and putting spurs to his horse, the Colonel plunged into a knot of Zulus.

So much for plans. The Zulus crushed us in a classic attack and we died bravely but without effect—or so it was when I regretfully left the table for the long drive home and the inevitable mental replays of the games I had enjoyed—victory or defeat not withstanding.

Where did I and the rest of the British go wrong? For starters I let myself fall into the trap of thinking that we had found all the impis and that the remaining cards were decoys. I was almost right—only one was not a decoy, but that one was a doozy. We would have been better served had the cavalry been allowed to continue its reconnaissance mission. It was a mistake born of greed.

The greed was the thought that we could smash up a large impi. It didn't happen. I still think the idea had merit, but I misjudged the rate of movement in 10mm scale. It wasn’t the worst judgment error.

The worst was probably relying too blindly on the killing power of Martini Henrys and artillery shells. After all, the Brits have slightly more than a 1 in 3 chance of hitting their targets. That's not bad shooting, but it's a long way from good.

We also should have formed a defensive square and brought up the wagons much sooner. It would have given us a fighting chance. As it was we were chewed up and clobbered by an enemy who did not make as many mistakes as we did—if they made any at all.

Still, it was a great game—best of the convention. If you ever see the Angle is offering a game—get in it!

View from the Angle:

I pretty much agree with Rick's assessment of the situation. The British were drawn into a bad situation through insufficient reconnaissance and premature engagement. Rick's theory was excellent, of course, because if he had smashed up the Zulus on his right flank he'd have been free to engage much more effectively the force that appeared unexpectedly to his front. However, the scenario wasn't entirely fair, either, in that it was a bait-and-switch setup. There were too many Zulus for the British to handle in a positional fight, especially considering that the British were initially deployed for marching, not fighting. The only way the British could have survived the encounter would have been to abandon the wagons to the enemy and conduct a fighting withdrawal back to the drift. Of course, their orders were to get the wagons through to the trapped force ahead, so the idea of giving up the wagons to save their lives was understandably loathsome. Unfortunately, the end result was the loss of all the wagons anyway and most of the lives.

In the real event, the column this incident was loosely based on fought a pretty intense skirmish with Zulus as it moved up a V-shaped series of rolling ridges. The British had time to deploy in advance of the column, however, and then pushed the Zulus ahead of their line. Artillery and horsemen were used to fend off the characteristic Zulu attempt to extend the line and turn a flank. Such tactics often don't work in TS&TF, however, which focuses more on the sharp end of a confrontation.

In the game, the British players sold their lives dearly and put another severe wound into Cetshwayo's army, but the disaster—destruction of four complete companies—coming on the heels of Isandhlwana and Myer's Drift, would almost certainly lead to the fall of the government and a peace settlement with the Zulus.

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