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| The French advancing down the ridge towards the British lines near Corunna. |
As many of you know, according to a bunch of ancient Mayan guys (whose claim to fame seems to be designing the heaviest desktop calendar in history and their unquenchable appetite for human hearts) we're apparently mere hours away from snuffing it. I have to say that I've been a little skeptical of this prediction for a variety of reasons, a few being: it's not even the end of the tax year, the NHL is still in lockout, George R.R. Martin has not finished the Game of Thrones series... and we've not even started the Painting Challenge!
But my conviction regarding the safety of the human race was severely shaken the other week when during a game an omen appeared before my very eyes. The unthinkable happened.
Sylvain attacked.
For those who do not know Sylvain you have to realize that this man is the master of caution, moderation and consideration. To his credit he is as tenacious as a tick when on the defensive - notoriously difficult to dislodge and fights like a outraged French waiter when pressed. But he is not the poster child for the 'Attaque a Outrance'.
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| The table at the beginning of the game, before deployment. |
But that night the world wobbled on its axis as Sylvain ordered the 'attaque'. As background I put on a 'Fast Play Grande Armee' game which focused on the British rearguard on the outskirts of Corunna, 1809. Stacy took the British and Peter and Sylvain commanded the French. It was a fairly close-run affair for the majority of the game but then, all in one turn, the French were either pushed back in combat or where falling back from bad command rolls.
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| My storm-swept craft paper 'River del Burgo' |
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| Ships ferrying the British off the Spanish mainland. |
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| The seemingly solid British line. |
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| The British still occupy the villages, push back the French and the battle hangs in the balance. |
At this point Peter lost his bottle and wanted to throw in the towel (to his credit most of us were nodding in agreement at this point), but Sylvain quietly chirped-in, saying, 'No, we have a fresh reserve. We will attack.' The room went silent and in the back of my mind I was wondering when I had last called my mother and if we had any prayer beads in the house.
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| British reinforcements arrive in an attempt to stem the tide. |
So Sylvain duely launched his attack, the dice were cast and just like the Seventh Seal, Stacy's British broke and a fatal hole was punched in their lines. We called it at that point as it was late and some of us were thinking we needed to get home to arrange our private affairs.
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| Sylvain's French (top right) break through the British lines! |
So, forget the black holes, alien landing sites and rogue asteroids. Sylvain has determined our fate. If you have anything on your bucket list you want to get sorted before the 21st you best get to it...
