It's Victoria Day here in Canada, also known as May two-four. This was, historically, the occasion upon which my grandmother (who I've come to realize was eccentric, though to me, she was just Nana), would ritually intone the following:
The 24th of May,
is the Queen's burthday.
We shall have a holiday,
or all run away.
The beauty of May two-four, is of course, that while it is a beacon of tradition, precisely what tradition one follows seems pretty flexible. Based on the super-abundance of memes on my social media feed, this is the weekend that many of my fellow Canadians traditionally devote to getting pie-faced and piloting Sea-Doos.
I know it more as the weekend after which one traditionally can plant with only reasonable risk of frost, aka, the weekend I spend digging out the garden. These days, since I do much of the gardening, live in a place where it rains 3 days in 4, and am married to someone with Olympic-class pollen allergies, I managed to duck that traditional duty, and instead spent a pleasant couple of hours playing Pikeman's Lament. While the garden will still need digging, I'm currently enjoying a nice glass of Dewar's, and writing this, which seems a far more civilized way to commemorate Queen Vic than either spreading diesel waste or digging in the mud ;)
|View from the Royalist side. Pay no attention to the night-camo unit.|
It's the second game of PL I've played, and I opted, perhaps unsurprisingly, for the second scenario, Patrol. This has the two forces attempting to pass by each other, to exit the table on the opposing side. It has a turn limit, based on the slowest movement on the table. Basically, enough turns that the slowest moving unit could travel across the table, in a straight line, along the shortest path. For my game, it was 10 turns. It quickly became clear that actually getting units, particularly Foot, off the table would be tricky, but the scenario did impact game choices; in the end, you win based on the units that "escape", and that gives you reasons to try and evade where possible.
|My self-painted Royalist continent continues to grow, if slowly.|
|The Scots horde arrives on the table.|
|Scots push forward. Dragoons move to secure the fords.|
|Royalists continue to press forward.|
|This game actually looked "proper", at least to my novice eyes.|
|Royalist pike advance. Wish I'd gotten the last bases finished in time ;)|
|Scots horse cross the river, and prepare to charge.|
|Dragoons in the woods, Shot at the ford.|
|Pike and Shotte, together at last.|
|State of the battle from the Royalist side.|
|Royalists on the hill.|
|Scots at the ford.|
|Royalist pike charge, and push back the Scots.|
|Discretion, rather than valour.|
|The Royalist right. Might be a fight brewing across those woods, but then again, maybe not.|