Brrrrrrrmmmm...

....brrrm, brrrm, brrrrrrrrrrm....
See the right hand panel and click on the fascist redhead in leather.

This redhead:

the fag end of one's life...

A rambling post; well, even more rambling than usual. If I were a Jacobean, or a late Elizabethan, I might take the strange weather as a sign of things being wrong 'in the state of Denmark' (although they don't have the Euro!), or, indeed, closer to home. Today's work involved another trip to the Great Wen, or, as I increasingly think of it, Londinium. That city stills stands as an embodiment of huge supra-national forces - just as it did (though of a far more Provincial nature) under Rome, and it probably has as much in common with its hinterland - now, England, then, Britannia - as ever. So, I always come to it as a rustic, of sorts. But, today was a pleasant visit. I had time to take a coffee in Marylebone, and, savour, as always, its particular railway architecture, while enjoying the 18th Century undertow of drinking coffee in London. I was early, too, for my meeting in the Strand, so had time to wander in the rain under the plane trees, past Lincoln's Inn (home of many a high Victorian amateur adventurer and sleuth; in fiction, at least), the Old Bailey (always looking like a more ominous Balliol, Oxford), then into Fleet Street. The heavy rain running in the gutters was a reminder that the River Fleet still lies somewhere underneath, buried in culverts. Perhaps one day it will run above ground again, in a more optimistic version of Jefferies' After London. In the near distance was the Gherkin, but shrouded in low clouds, as if a Blake-like God was warning of further financial disaster to come. The meeting was a meeting, but afterwards I had time to have my haircut, by a pleasant, but remarkably nervous, razor wielding North African, in Marylebone Station. It is a gentleman's barbers, in which the barber does not bother the customer with his views on football, rugby, golf, or anything else, and, as such, recommended.

Although it rained today, yesterday saw a day of sunshine, enough to enable some work on my sad allotment plot to take place, and enough to encourage a cactus that I have had for about 12 years to finally flower:

This fellow has squatted in his pot for a dozen years, slowly, slowly growing, and, now - a crown! There is a  link with toy soldiers and models here - patience. The sun also shone on my hedge-in-being. Two years ago I was, due to new neighbours, in a position to grub up an old, very woody, very wide, 12 foot high privet hedge. In its place, I am growing an apple, rose, and holly hedge, interlaced with all sorts of flowers. At the moment, poppies reign:

My grandfather, who, amazingly, survived the Great War on the Western Front as an infantryman (in The King's, the old 8th Foot - bold defenders of Canada in 1775 and 1812, among many other things), said of our use of Poppies as the flower of remembrance, 'Poppies. I never saw poppies, just bloody mud'. 

I am an amateur enthusiast for the late 18th Century in the West, as, I know, are many old school wargamers. One of the things that attracts me to our ancestors then is the sense that they are becoming like us, that the early modern period was fading, and that the Middle Ages was almost gone. Late last week, my wife and I went to Compton Verney, a jewel in Warwickshire's richly endowed cultural crown. Not only are the house itself, and its restored landscaped grounds works of art, but it is the site of an increasingly important art gallery. The current exhibitions are of English impressionists and the landscape paintings of Thomas Gainsborough. And here he is, aged around 28 in 1755; a self-portrait in pencil: 

Gainsborough, of course, is best known for his society portraits, which I am not a particular fan of. So, I was pleased to find that neither was he! Instead, he longed to find 'a sweet, small village' where he could 'live out the fag end of my life'. As I said, they became like us in this period. 

Finally, a shameless bit of self-advertisement: I am the guest speaker on BBC Radio 4's Making History programme which is broadcast tomorrow, Tuesday, 12th June at 3:00pm, later to be available on i-player (I will add a link on the right - if it sounds ok!).

Preparing for an anniversary

In just over a week it will be 200 years since the USA declared war on Canada, and Britain, trying, once more, to force Canadians into the USA. But the Canadians - British, French and Native - yet again fought off their more numerous, aggressive and self-righteous neighbours, just as they had in 1775-6. The War of 1812 is unjustly neglected, and it boasts many interesting features, not least the role that US born Canadians played in defending their new homeland against the invaders, and the fighting spirit of French Canadians under the British flag. For the US, it was meant to be (as for many over-confident jingoists of all nations and all periods of history) merely a stroll in the woods. But that was far from the case.

Enough of the history, here are the toys:

These are the first flat figures I have painted since 1985, and it wasn't easy. In fact, it is a case of 'must try harder'. They are Berliner Zinnfiguren Peninsular War chaps painted as Lower Canada Select Embodied Militia, hence the dark blue trousers. Then, as now (in fact, definitely as now in the UK), the government thought that it could scrimp on support services, even when fighting a war. Plus ca change...

Thinking about why I found these chaps hard to paint, I realised that the fine detail is so fine that it quickly becomes obscured by even very thin layers of paint, making the detail hard to identify towards the end of the process. Further, that magic of the wash just doesn't work as it does on the fully round figure. Some people certainly know how to do these figures, see, for example, Corporal Trim, but I have much to learn.

Finally, after a smokeless week, I was pleased to find that the post lady had delivered a new smoke this morning. Aaaaaah.

Flat Oberfeldwebel von Stanley...

... or something like that. While bashing my skull on the joists in the loft this evening, I found some more of my flats from long ago. These were a Christmas present from a German student (an expert in Grecian red figure vases, an ardent Bonapartist, and the son of two Prussians) in 1984. My interests were decidedly modern in those days, and the erstwhile Prussian humoured me with these chaps:

Firstly, rubbing it in for the French, or, perhaps, rallying the forces of anti-Bolshevism, or, if these high ones were from Vienna, staging a raid on the pastry shop.

While, on the Eastern Front, Blue Division flats read the Spanish language version of Signal, and phone mum.

While their mates throw shells at the Anti-Christ.

Per l'onore d'Italia

Well, it's been a week to remember on the monarchical front, a remarkable week in terms of weather in Mercia (rain, rain, and a bit more rain, accompanied by March-like temperatures), and a damn'd week in personal terms. And it is still only Wednesday! However, I did, finally, finish the ANR Me Bf109 G-10, so here it is, with the other 1/72 ANR aircraft it has joined on the shelf:

This very late mark Me Bf109 is finished as a 2nd Squadron, 1st Fighter Group aircraft, based at Lonate Pozzolo in April 1945. While, below:

A Macchi  C.205 in the summer of 1944, based, I think, at Vicenza (it's some time since I made the Macchi, and I'm not too sure of the references). Then, a Me Bf109 G-6:

Flown by S.M. Cavagliano, 1st Squadron, 2nd Fighter Group, Aviano, November 1944.

Finally, the only (operational) offensive capability of the ANR:

Two views of a late mark S79, from 1st Torpedo bomber group, late 1944, operating from Ghedi.

After the withdrawal of the last of the Luftwaffe's day fighters from Italy, in September 1944, the ANR fighters were the only air defence for Northern Italy. Small in numbers, seriously, and increasingly short of aviation fuel, and with poor training, the ANR pilots attempted to exact some return for the heavy bombing of Italian cities, and also made efforts to intercept Allied bombers on their way to and from raids on Germany. 

Enough of this aero stuff! I have made a little headway on my 1812 Canadians - the flats, that is. More generally, I have finally come to realise that, assuming (and that is a very big assumption) that I get some time to myself, I can only, realistically, war game in one way:

So, the above is my current bedtime reading!

Regina!

Echoing her coronation day, it has rained all day in most of the United Kingdom, but Her Majesty and the Duke of Edinburgh were not deterred. And neither were the crowds along the banks of the Thames. There can be little doubt that Queen Elizabeth is a force for unity among the (majority) of the British.

2012 - 'things ain't wot they used to be' in 1952. Some good, but too many babies thrown out with the bath water in the last 60 years. But, still, today:

GOD SAVE THE QUEEN!

Getting there...

... slowly. It hasn't been much of a week on the toy soldier front. In fact, apart from some painting on the 1961 Cubans, which are a long way from completion, I haven't managed anything. However, the Me Bf 109 G-10 is getting there. It's nearly ready for the decals:

It is to be a very late fighter for the Aeronautica Nazionale Repubblicana's 2nd Sq. 1st Fighter Group in April 1945, hence the painted out fuselage cross, which will receive a small RSI tricolour. Nick Beale's Air War Italy 1944-45; The Axis Air Forces from the Liberation of Rome to the Surrender (1996) is an excellent account of the ANR's struggles, against German stupidity as well as the RAF and the USAF. Beale followed up that book with his account of Luftwaffe night attack operations in the theatre, Ghost Bombers; the Moonlight War of NSG9 (2001).

I doubt if I've got the various greys correct, but, it will look ok when it's finished. I hope.