On watch...

It is late summer in the ancient town of Brnad, once famous for its monastery and beer but now fallen into genteel decay. Even the political and military tensions between its mother country, Maltovia, and neighbouring Lovitzna seem to have past the old ramparts by. Only a small half regiment of garrison troops, Les invalides, keep watch over the rolling countryside and border forests. It is quiet, but old Major Vlasov wonders, in time honoured fashion:

'Is it too damn'd quiet?'

He might have a few regulars with the latest Maxim, but the old walls weren't made for modern, Nineteenth Century warfare, and his men aren't as young or hale as they used to be; or as he used to be, come to that.

The old bastion, and the half demolished walls, although from the border trees

Brnad still has something of its strength about it.

My apologies, dear readers, for the dreadful lack of posts of late. I will not bore you with trials and tribulations, but there have also been good reasons why I have slacked on the blog front. Firstly, the keen eyed might notice that the coming Maltovia-Lovitzna clash has been set up in a new environment. I will no longer clutter up the dining table, as I have, finally, finally, decluttered my shed and equipped it for table top war. 

Also, as the nights have closed in on the still beautiful days of this early English autumn/fall, I have been sipping imperial ale:

and reading absolutely first rate yarns. Gavin Lyall's last four novels:

were undoubtedly his best. They tell the imaginary tale of Britain's new 'Secret Service Bureau', just before the Great War, and they are a delight. In fact they are only rivalled by the fine 'Mamur Zapt' series by Michael Pearce:

 Both series are heartily recommended to the type of chap who likes toy soldiers, yarns, history and good beer.