Arran - Scotland in Miniature

 I live a stone's throw away from the ferry terminal for Arran, but haven't been over for years. It is here temporarily (probably) while the Scottish Government and Peel Ports sort out an upgrade of the port facilities at Ardrossan. Yes, they built a new ferry that was too big for the ferry terminal, and it still hasn't been resolved!

However, the new ferry is an excellent ship, and Arran is a glorious place to visit on a sunny day. It is called 'Scotland in miniature' because it has all the elements that make up Scotland on one island. This includes several historical sites that reflect the island's rich history.

The ferry docks at the main town, Brodick. Our first stop was the Arran Heritage Museum, which I hadn't visited before. This small museum reflects many aspects of Arran life, from the geology and archaeology to the present day. The cafe also has delicious cake! Of particular interest is a display about wartime Arran. I have previously reviewed Colin Turbett's excellent book about wartime Arran and its role in defending the Clyde estuary. 

HMS Fortitude at Adrossan was the main naval base.

Memorial to the 21 USAF airmen who died in a Liberator crash on the island. The map above plots all the crashes.

Commandos trained on the island.

Next stop was Brodick Castle, probably the main attraction on the island. The medieval castle has been largely replaced by a Victorian house in the Scottish baronial style. Napoleon III lived here during his exile and there is a fine collection of Napoleonic medals.

The other castle is at Lochranza on the northern tip of the island. This was a MacSween castle built in the 1200s, and later developed as a royal castle. It's in a stunning location in a bay that would have housed the clan's fighting ships. There was a third castle in the south at Kildonan, but there is little left to see.

We drove down the west side of the island, which has little to see other than a fine view of Kintyre. The last historical stop (there were pubs, cafes and an art gallery!) was Kingscross point, the site of a Viking fort that would have defended their base in Lamlash Bay. King Haakon of Norway's fleet was based here before the Battle of Largs in 1265. The Bay was also used by the Royal Navy in both world wars. There are no remains but the view is excellent.

If you are planning a visit, I would recommend Horace Fairhurst's Exploring Arran's Past, for the history of the island. We are indeed blessed to have such treasures on our doorstep.

Romania's Russia Scare

 Before my recent trip to Romania, I had brushed up on my Romanian history in anticipation of the museums and battlefields I planned to visit. One aspect of Romania's history I wasn't familiar with was its late 19th-century Russia scare. If this sounds familiar to British readers, it should. We had a similar scare with Russia and the French during the same period, and started building fortifications in response. The Palmerston Forts on the south coast are the best example, including the artillery museum at Fort Nelson.

Romania had been part of the Triple Alliance since 1883, which put it at risk of Russian invasion. The border area, with modern-day Ukraine, was probably indefensible, so in 1887, they started to build a line of forts along the Siret River, known as the Focşani-Namoloasa-Galati (FNG) fortified region. Essentially, a shorter defence line between the Carpathian Mountains and the Danube River. They also built a series of forts around Bucharest to defend the capital. There isn't a great deal of the line to see today, other than the very fine WW1 memorial at Mărășești. 

However, the National Military Museum has a series of Osprey-style booklets, including one on the FNG and another on the Bucharest forts. Only three of the series were on sale, at the bargain price of £10 for all three. I would have bought the whole series at that price.

While the main text is in Romanian, there is a summary in English, and the many illustrations, as well as the colour plates, have English captions. 

The fortifications cost the newly independent state a fortune and were controversial at the time. The designer was German Major Schumann, and the FNG included one fort and 15 groups of armoured batteries. There were more batteries at Galati defending the Danube port. An unusual feature was portable 37mm quick-firing guns, supplemented by 53mm guns and 120mm howitzers. 

53mm Grusson Cannon

There were 18 forts built around Bucharest, with another 18 batteries. This resulted in an 8km gap between positions. The forts had 210mm and 150mm guns in cupolas and disappearing turrets. There were smaller guns and machine guns as well. A railway was built to supply the ring of forts, with a garrison of 33,000 troops. Some of the forts exist today and are still used by the military.

Ironically, the FNG defences had to be reversed during WW1, when Romania left the Triple Alliance and faced an invasion from Austro-Hungary to the south. 

Mussolini's Defeat at Hill 731

 I am on a Greek-Italian War roll. After finishing the new study of the Italian Army in the Balkans, I have been reading John Carr's study of an epic Greek defence of Hill 731 during the Italian Spring offensive of March 1941.

In the Spring of 1941, the Italian leadership needed a victory before the impending German intervention. The plan, devised by General Ugo Cavallero, envisioned a large-scale attack on a narrow, 32 km front in the centre of the Greek positions. The Italian attack aimed to break through the Greek lines, recapture Klisura, and advance towards Leskovik and Ioannina. Key to the Italian effort was a hill known as 731, which stood at the centre of the planned attack. Hill 731 is situated approximately 20 kilometres north of Këlcyrë (Klisura), near the base of Mount Trebeshinë in Southern Albania.

Hill 731 was defended by the 2nd Battalion of the Greek 5th Infantry Regiment, which was ordered to hold its positions at all costs. The Italian attack, observed by Mussolini in person, was launched on 9 March with a heavy artillery barrage and air bombardment, with over 100,000 shells dropped on a 6 km front. Despite repeated assaults by three different Italian divisions, the defenders of Hill 731 held the position. 

Although there is enough context, this is not a broad overview of the offensive. Instead, the book focuses on the small unit fighting on Hill 731. The Italian tactics were not subtle. It was early WW1-style artillery bombardment followed by relentless frontal assaults. If the 'lions led by donkeys' line works anywhere, it is here. The Italians were shocked at how ineffective their artillery was and how good the Greek mountain artillery was in response. The Italians fired 100,000 shells in the opening barrage compared to fewer than 6,000 Greek shells, yet they were more effective. Some Italian attacks were broken up before they got anywhere near the Greek trenches. 

For the Greeks, their Hotchkiss machine guns were important, but so were counterattacks with bayonets and grenades. The defence did not simply sit in their trenches blasting away. The Greek bayonet was twice the length of the standard Italian issue, and they used the Polish WZ.24 hand grenade, which carried a bigger charge.

Italian radio security was appalling, with the Greeks intercepting messages and responding accordingly. Supply was a problem for both sides with the snow and ice, coupled with mud up to the waist on occasions. The Italians tried night attacks, but didn't change their frontal attack tactics. The result was the same as daytime. Casualties are unclear, but the Italians suffered around 5,000, including over 1,000 dead. Greek losses were around 500. Four Italian divisions were rendered useless. 

This excellent study of close combat in WW2 covers an interesting campaign. Sadly for the Greeks, Hitler's invasion outflanked the Albanian positions, and they had to give up Hill 731. 

I have the armies for this campaign in 28mm and 15mm. The Greeks are below. This battle is certainly playable on the tabletop without too many challenges.

Carronade 2025

 The first big Scottish wargames show of the year is Carronade. It is held in a high school in Falkirk, which is an excellent venue, although parking and public transport aren't great. This year, there was a noticeably better turnout - more games, traders and visitors. As usual, it tailed off in the afternoon, but until then, we only played a couple of rounds of our game. It was great to see wargame friends from across Scotland and talk about the game and wargaming generally.

There were no gaps in the trader areas, and they did steady business. I picked up some paints, basing materials and a couple of books. Thankfully, no figures tempted me as my lead mountain is high enough.

We were running a game based on the Battle of Khotin in 1769, the first significant battle of the Russo-Ottoman War 1768-74. It was obscure enough to get visitors guessing what it was and reading the handout. My Old Glory 'Vlad Castle' got another run out, and is not that far off stylistically from the actual fortress. 

Running a game doesn't give much time to see the rest of the show, but the quality of the games was very high, and these caught my eye.

Possibly my favourite, Industrial WW2 with U-Boats.

A big game of Blenheim.

Alford. An interesting battle, well put together.

Poletsk - 1812 Russian campaign

I have no idea what this is or the rules, but it's interesting terrain.

There were two Samurai games, both visually good.

A fantasy version of Billhooks on a fine table.

Obviously, The Alamo. Swapped notes on using Rebels and Patriots.

The Battle of Tewkesbury.

Nice little Napoleonic naval landing game. Works well as a participation game.

I thought this was the Tradeston club's Thirty Years War game, but it is obviously later and upscaled in 28mm.

As always, many thanks to the Falkirk club. Putting on a show of this size takes a lot of work, and Kenny and the team did a great job.

Roman Soldier v Dacian Warrior

 This is a new Osprey Combat series book by Murray Dahm on the Dacian Wars AD 85-106. The Dacian Wars are one of my favourite ancient campaigns, and I have just returned from Romania, the Dacians' modern-day home. 

I am generally not a fan of this Osprey series. This is the third book from Osprey that covers the Dacians, and there are similar MAA titles on the Romans of the period. The primary selling point for this series might be wargamers who want enough information in one title to organise the armies and understand the campaigns. That said, Murray Dahm is an excellent ancient historian, and this is a well-researched book full of the latest evidence.

After a short introduction to the region and the opposing armies, Dahm gets straight into the organisation of both armies. It's not the same level of detail as in the MAA series, but it's enough to get the wargamer started. Some nice colour plates help, along with plenty of illustrations. The written sources are, as ever, limited, but we do have Trajan's column, which by Roman standards is a reasonably balanced depiction of the troops and the challenges the Romans faced. The column is still in Rome, but the plaster casts in the National History Museum, Bucharest, are a much better opportunity to study them. Here are a couple from my recent visit.

The Imperial Romans are pretty straightforward, but our sources on the Dacians don't always correspond to the depictions on Trajan's column. In any case, Dacian society seems to have consisted of various tribes under individual rulers who owed allegiance to an overall king. So, there may have been several variations, including the Dacian allies, of which the Sarmatians are a favourite. The archaeology is challenging as the Dacian forts were in the Carpathian Mountains, dense, hilly terrain, even today. On my first visit, the hotel insisted I take an armed escort as the forests I was walking through still had wolves and bears. One controversy concerns how many Dacian warriors used the distinctive falx. The subject of a fine colour plate in the book. The otherwise excellent Warlord plastics box doesn't have nearly enough.

The rest of the book covers the three Roman campaigns. Most descriptions focus on Trajan's campaigns and omit the earlier campaign by Domitian in AD 86. He was defeated at the First Battle of Tapae, and although he recovered to win the second, he couldn't subdue the Dacians. A plus for this book is that Dahm covers the earlier campaigns. 

In Trajan's First Dacian War (101–102 AD), he led a massive Roman force into Dacia, seeking to subdue King Decebalus. After several battles, including another critical clash at Tapae, Decebalus was forced to accept peace terms, becoming a client king of Rome. In the Second Dacian War (105–106 AD), Decebalus's continued resistance to Roman control prompted Trajan to launch a second campaign. This time, the Romans captured the Dacian capital, Sarmizegetusa, and Decebalus took his own life rather than surrender. Dacia was then annexed as a Roman province, bringing great wealth, particularly in gold, into the empire.

The final chapters give a good analysis of the effectiveness of both armies and the aftermath. The usual picture of Roman conquests is one of inevitable victory: the combination of auxiliary forces that provided the necessary skill in archery, light infantry and cavalry expertise, combined with the heavy-infantry prowess of the legions. Analysis of the campaigns against Dacia by Domitian and Trajan reveals that such a picture is false. Roman armies could be defeated, and imperial victories sometimes needed to be hard-fought and were by no means predetermined. Oltean surmises that Trajan’s Dacian expeditions were the "costliest war Romans ever fought, the war involving the highest number of troops and covering the largest area."

This is an excellent starting point if you are new to the Dacian Wars. However, if you have the other Ospreys, there might not be enough new material to justify the purchase.

I have the Dacians and the Romans in 28mm. However, more recently, I have played several games using Strength and Honour in 2mm, which gives a different perspective on the Tapae battles.  

Master of Gray - Broughty Castle

 Those following my Nigel Tranter rereading project will know that Tranter was clearly intrigued by Patrick, Master of Gray. He wrote a trilogy about him (Montrose only got two books) and featured in two others. 

Patrick, Master of Gray (1559–1612), was a Scottish nobleman and politician who played a notable, though often controversial, role during the reign of James VI of Scotland. Known for his political cunning and shifting allegiances, Gray was deeply involved in the intrigues and power struggles that defined late 16th-century Scotland. He was born into the influential Gray family and became Master of Gray, a title that referred to the heir to the chief of the Gray family. Gray emerged after Mary’s forced abdication and subsequent imprisonment by Queen Elizabeth. Initially a supporter of Mary, his loyalties shifted as he sought to secure his position and favour with her son, James VI. He became an important courtier and diplomat during James VI's reign, although he was dropped by James when he became James I of England.

Patrick's main base was Broughty Castle, just down the Tay from Dundee. I am working in Dundee this coming week, so it would be a good opportunity to visit. It wasn't the Gray family's seat, that was Castle Huntly, not the more famous Gordon castle, but near the village of Longforgan, not far from Dundee. Today, it is Scotland's only open prison. In Tranter's telling, Patrick's father gave him Broughty Castle (granted to the family in 1490) because it was derelict after it had been held by the English during the Rough Wooing. Patrick restored the castle and much more, using it to weave his many plots.

The castle wasn't particularly well defended, but it held a strategic position at the mouth of the Tay. The owner could levy tolls and control the lucrative ferry across the Tay to Fife. There were no road and rail bridges in those days. The castle in Patrick's day would have been the large tower house, although the English excavated a trench to strengthen the landward defences. An English writer who accompanied the English garrison noted the castle's strategic importance;

"it standeth in such sort at the mouth of the river Tay, that being gotten, both Dundee and St. John's Town (Perth), and many other towns else shall become subject to this hold or be compelled to forgo their use of the river."

This photo highlights the strategic position with Fife in the background.

The castle was damaged during the Wars of the Three Kingdoms, and the Gray family sold it in 1666. 

The War Office acquired it in 1860 and rebuilt it with modern gun positions in response to the threat of attack from the Russians and then the French. Submarine miners were also based near the castle. In an emergency, they would lay mines in the Tay Estuary to damage enemy shipping. It was garrisoned in both World Wars with modern artillery.

The castle is a museum today and is well worth a visit.

The Wisest Fool

 The latest in my rereading of Nigel Tranter's novels covers James the Sixth from his accession to the English throne as James the First after the death of Elizabeth. 

Tranter typically narrates the story using someone close to the action. He chose George Heriot, the King's Jeweller and money-lender, in this book. Heriot is an interesting character in his own right. He was the court goldsmith to the Queen, Anne of Denmark, and the king himself. He became very wealthy from this position and more prosperous by lending this money back to the king and the rest of his court. He moved to London along with the court in 1603, at the time of the Union of Crowns, and remained in London until he died in 1624. He is chiefly remembered today as the founder of George Heriot's School, a large public school in Edinburgh. His name has also been given to Heriot-Watt University, several streets and a pub, the Jinglin' Geordie, after his nickname. I walk past (I know, hard to believe!) the pub on my way back to the station from research trips to the National Library. 

James was not the universal choice as Elizabeth's successor, and he must have been a bit of a shock to the English court. There were a couple of early plots to unseat him, including one involving Sir Walter Raleigh. The most famous is Guy Fawkes and the Gunpowder Plot, which Tranter covers in detail and is probably the best chapter in the book. 

James had less luck with his plan to establish a single country under one monarch, one parliament, and one law rather than simply a personal union of the crowns. The English Parliament was strongly opposed, which didn't go well with James, who believed in the divine right of kings to rule—something that would get his successor into more serious difficulties. Parliament also kept him short of cash, so he started a range of financial schemes, including the plantation of Protestants in Ulster. Heriot was the man who helped organise at least some of these schemes.

This is not a Bernard Cornwell-style action story. James was firmly against wars, primarily because of the cost. He championed peace in Europe and ended the long Anglo–Spanish War, and a peace treaty was signed between the two countries in August 1604. Despite the lack of military action, this is an interesting tale of court life under a strange but quite effective monarch. The Wisest Fool in Christendom is an appropriate title.

The Golden Throne: The Curse of a King.

I complained to one of our local councillors about the ageing stock in our local library the other week. So, I was pleasantly surprised to find Christopher de Bellaigue's new book about the later reign of Suleiman the Magnificent (Lawgiver) on the shelves and snapped it up as my library pick this month.

Despite having several books on the arguably greatest Ottoman sultan on my book shelves, I might have bought this given the excellent reviews. 

Suleiman ruled from 1520 to 1566, the longest reign of any Ottoman sultan. In the Islamic world, he is known as the Lawgiver because he reorganised the Ottoman legal system, codifying secular and religious laws into a comprehensive legal code. He earned the title 'the Magnificent' in Europe mainly due to his military conquests. Under his rule, the Ottoman Empire reached its territorial peak, stretching from Hungary to the Persian Gulf and North Africa to the Caucasus. These included major victories at Belgrade (1521), Rhodes (1522) and Mohács (1526). His navy also dominated the Mediterranean under the leadership of Barbarossa Hayreddin Pasha.

This is not a conventional narrative history. It is told more as a novel or a play, with the narrative darting about the empire, bringing in the key players in the story. These include his most famous consort, Hurrem (also known as Roxelana) and her rival Mahidevran. His sons, who in the Ottoman tradition would compete for his throne, and the various officials, including Grand Vizier, Lufti Pasha, Barbarossa and Sinan the architect. External influences are not ignored. These include the French King Francis I, who was loosely allied to the Ottomans in competition with Charles V of Spain. Looking eastwards, the Iranians were led by Tahmasp, Shah of Iran.

The author doesn't just stick to the personalities. The governance of the empire is explained, including the tax on boys (devshirme) to recruit into government service and the Janissaries. I knew Jews and Armenians were exempt, but also exempt were tall boys who were not taken because they were known to be stupid and anyone who was conceited or full of himself. That would probably have excluded me on both counts! I am curious why boys who knew Turkish or had been to Istanbul weren't eligible. The book is full of snippets like this, so there is something, even for those who think they have read all there is to know on this subject. I had read Luther's entertaining take on the Ottomans: 'The Turks are to be endured like floods, forest fires, plagues and famine, all sent by God to try his people.'

I hadn't realised that Sinan, the architect of many fine buildings I have visited, including the Selimiye Mosque in Edirne and the Suleiman Mosque in Istanbul, started as a military engineer in the Janissaries. His bridge over the Prut in 1538 was his breakthrough. Having recently driven down and studied the campaigns along this river in modern-day Romania, you can appreciate the importance of this achievement when so many others failed.

Overall, I'm afraid I didn't like the style. It jumped around too much, and the narrative didn't flow. I appreciate that it may draw others into the period, and that's a good thing. In the West, Suleiman's contemporaries, like Francis and Henry VIII, are better known, without this fascinating sultan's achievements. 

I was playtesting Simon Miller's new variant of his To the Strongest rules, Lust for Glory, at the club yesterday. So my Janissaries were getting a good workout against Peter the Great's Russians. A threat Suleiman didn't face.

The Battle of Quiberon Bay 1759

 My holiday aircraft reading was Nicolas Tracy's study of the Battle of Quiberon Bay, a decisive naval engagement during the Seven Years' War. It was fought on 20 November 1759 between the Royal Navy and the French Navy in Quiberon Bay, off the coast of France near Saint-Nazaire. I picked this up when writing my book on HMS Ambuscade, because although Ambuscade was not at the battle, I realised that I knew very little of the planned invasion of Britain during this conflict. The biography of Lord Anson reminded me that this was in the reading pile.

Writing a book about one battle inevitably requires a lot of context, but in this case, the author has stuck to relevant issues. I hadn't appreciated the challenges the French faced with wind direction in the Channel and the dire state of their finances. The French also had to finance large land armies and a navy, while the British could concentrate their efforts on the Royal Navy, efficiently organised by Anson. The British commander at the battle was Admiral Hawke, who implemented the reforms of hygiene, diet and ship rotation that allowed the Royal Navy to maintain a blockade of the French coast.

Despite these challenges, the threat of invasion was real, and Bonnie Prince Charlie was still a French asset. It was only fourteen years since France had last succeeded in landing him in Scotland, and the Duke of Cumberland’s draconian Highland Clearances were the firm basis for continued anger, and might be the basis for another uprising. However, when the French minister Choiseul met Charles Stuart on 7 February 1759, the no longer very Bonnie Prince was intoxicated, and Choiseul concluded he was indiscreet and rather stupid. It was also a problem that the Dutch had no use for a Stuart restoration, and Choiseul needed Dutch financial support.

The first plan was to make a landing of French soldiers in Ireland, while an army of Swedes and Russians was concentrated at Gothenburg and sailed to Scotland. These two assaults were to be feints. The main assault force would be directed at the Thames estuary and escorted by the Brest fleet. However, the potential allies weren't interested and later plans involved landings in Scotland. These were all too complex and relied on command of the sea. As Tracy says, 'The fact that Choiseul, Nicolas-René Berryer and the Duc de BelleÎle committed the lives of two armies and two fleets to such a dangerous gamble exposes them and the structure of the French Ancien Régime to the gravest criticism.'

Command of the sea was lost at the Battle of Quiberon Bay. The French fleet struggled to prepare for action with a shortage of experienced sailors and almost everything else. It was commanded by Marshal de Conflans, who eventually managed to evade the blockade in poor weather with a fleet of 20 ships of the line. Hawke, with a numerically superior and more aggressive fleet, pursued them despite rough weather. The British attacked as the French attempted to retreat into the sheltered but treacherous waters of Quiberon Bay, known for dangerous shoals and rocks. Hawke boldly followed, showing exceptional seamanship, and caught the French off guard. Twelve French ships were sunk, captured or ran aground, with no British battle losses, although two ran aground. Hawke's battle report concludes, 'When I consider the season of the year, the hard gales on the day of action, a flying enemy, the shortness of the day, and the coast they were on, I can boldly affirm that all that could possibly be done was done.'

© Sémhur / Wikimedia Commons

Tracey described the battle as 'the most dramatic sea battle in the age of sail', while the naval theorist Alfred Mahan claimed that 'The battle of 20 November 1759 was the Trafalgar of this war, and ... the English fleets were now free to act against the colonies of France, and later of Spain, on a grander scale than ever before.'

For wargaming, my collection is for the Napoleonic Wars. The ships of this period were slightly smaller with fewer guns, but the difference is not that great. Refighting the battle would involve some clever sailing, which will be challenging given my track record playing Black Seas!

National Military Museum Bucharest

 My last full day in Romania was spent in Bucharest, mostly doing the museums. The first call was the National Military Museum, which had been refurbished since my last visit. They have done a great job. I recall more vehicles, but they are apparently still being prepared. This was the furthest out museum, so I got a taxi and walked the rest of the day. The driver told me he drove a T-72 in the army; his driving showed it!

Before we get to the Dacians, there is a good collection of early (BCE) weapons and equipment. There are dioramas, life-size figures and plenty of equipment. 

The medieval section covers the Ottoman invasion, Vlad Tepes and Stephan the Great. I have painted a few of those distinctive shields.

We move on to the early modern period with Michael the Brave and more Ottoman kit. Romania doesn't have much coastline, but the Danube is navigable. 

The 18th and early 19th century is my main reason for being here. There were uniforms I had not seen before, including Austrian border units.

The Russo-Turkish War gets a large section, rightly recognising the Romanian Army's role, particularly at Pleven. 

Then onto the Balkan Wars and WW1.

Finally, WW2 through the Cold War until Romania joined NATO. I was pleased to see the naval exhibits, as I missed the Naval Museum in Constanta—yes, it was closed!

Overall, this museum is excellent. Not to be missed if you are in Bucharest.

My next stop was the National Museum of History. This has also been refurbished, although it is still pretty limited. An excellent special exhibition on the 1943 Ploesti raid matched bomber artwork with recovered parts of aircraft shot down. There are also plaster casts of Trajan's column covering the Dacian Wars, which are much easier to see than in Rome. 

What I call the bling room has a fine collection of Dacian arm rings and other treasures.

The next stop was the National Art Gallery, largely for the portraits of Wallachian rulers, which should come in handy someday. My favourite painting was Vlad Tepes receiving the Ottoman envoys. That didn't end well, and there wouldn't have been many volunteers for that duty!

Finally, the Bucharest Municipal Museum is fascinating. It shows how the city developed and has a scarily realistic reconstruction of Michael the Brave, some uniforms, and weapons.

A busy day, but lots of material for future projects.