Howl-ong Must We Sing This Song?

Tags

France, Le chant du loup, netflix, Russian, Syrian Civil War, Tom Clancy, Top Gun, u2

It’s easy to pick holes in the plot of Le chant du loup (billed as The Wolf’s Call on Netflix), but why would you want to do that? This French-made military/technical thriller follows in the footstep of Tom Clancy to create a modern variation on the Hunt for Red October theme. It does as well as some and better than most.

The story starts us in Syria where a French special forces unit is being evacuated by submarine. Not to ruin the movie for you, my readers, but the mission succeeds after some harrowing action. It also leaves us with a mystery. During the mission, extraordinarily gifted sonar man Chanteraide (aka “Socks”) identified an unknown contact that his boat’s computers were unable to classify. Even after the mission is over, he wants to solve that mystery.

As we skip ahead some months, we find the world at the brink of war. The Russians have invaded Finnish territory and only France (!) is willing to stand up for NATO and its smaller members against the Russian bear. The plot is a variation of submarine movies that we’ve seen before. It also appears to have lifted a scene or two straight out of Top Gun. Nevertheless, it is a unique enough story to entertain. This is no Michael Bay extravaganza, but there is enough of a budget to present thrills, action, and nice footage of military hardware in action without looking cheesy.

This is a French film, so of course there is a steamy love scene right in the middle of it. Amazingly enough, this too is key to the plot as incongruous as it seemed at the time. Acting and scripting is a lot harder to judge when watching with subtitles. Overall, I’d rate this pretty highly, especially considering it’s a non-Hollywood production on a (for an action/thriller) modest budget. Just for comparison, it cost about 25% less than The Hunt for Red October did (almost 20 years ago). Sadly, it made back (per Wikipedia) under $12 million, barely half of the film’s investment. Compare that to the 10X return on Hunt, to the tune of $300 million. One hopes that the deal with Netflix goes some way to closing that gap.

The film is interesting because it is plausible fiction set amidst the conflicts of the present day. Among that fiction is the willingness of France to use her military in defense of Western Civilization. One suspects some wishful thinking coming from the writers and director. To the American audience, it is difficult to judge whether the portrayal of the French Navy rings true. I’ve read commentary that suggests that it does. Liberties seem to have been taken with rules of engagement but, as I said, it worth it to suspend one’s disbelief and go along for the ride.

Being a “present day” submarine thriller, it presents a view of technology that’s going to be a little different that World War II or 1980s Cold War. The Iranians are shown to have a stealth Frigate. I am guessing that the images of the Sahand, the first of Iran new frigate class, were not available when the movie was being made. That ship (the first of its class) entered service only at the very end on 2018. It also may have been easier to use a French ship to stand in for Irans rather than try to create a CGI model just for this film. In any case, the Iranian ship appears shockingly modern – at least to me.

Also surprising to us fans of the old-school submarine thrillers is the sound of the sonar. We’re used to that moment in every submarine movie when the hunter becomes the hunted. Someone (maybe a surface ship, maybe another submarine) turns on active sonar to locate our heroic crew. The ping of the sonar, signalling the vulnerability of the boat and its crew, is a harrowing moment. In Le chant du loup we are treated to a multi-frequency sonar sweep that sounds almost like music. The submariners call it “the wolf’s call” or “the singing of the wolf” (to translate the original name of the film more literally). Do modern sonars use a computer generated, multi-frequency signal that sounds like what we hear in the film? That I don’t know. In translating the title to be simply The Wolf’s Call, it does seem like something is being lost in the translation. There is an important theme about sound and hearing, about natural gifts and self-sacrifice, that may not be getting all the way through to me just with the subtitles.

As far as I can tell, the only reasonable opportunity to watch this here in the U.S. is on Netflix streaming, where they’ve rebranded this as a “Netflix Original.” Some content labeled as such is pretty darned bad. This one isn’t.

The Installation is Divided into Three Parts

Tags

Bibracte, Field of Glory II, France, Great Battles of Caesar, Julius Caesar, Roman Republic

I’ve always liked Good Old Games, better known as just GOG. I’ve bought quite a few items from them over the years – certainly far more than I’ve played. Their mainstay is resurrecting old games that are no longer compatible with the latest in operating systems and getting them to work. In other cases, they simply repackage a game no longer being sold by the original publisher. Lately, they also seem to be trying to break into the business of publishing new releases, an out of which I have also taken a bite. Are they distracting themselves from their original and successful model? I try to mostly ignore the newly developed games which, based entirely on superficial impressions, are of a decidedly lower-quality than their re-releases.

Besides buying old games that I may or may not feel the urge to play anytime soon I am apt (as are others, based on comments) to repurchase games that I already own. I’ve done it to get a reliably up-to-date patch or a pre-configured DOSBox setup. I’ve even done it to avoid the hassle of run off of my old CD. The uniformly positive experiences I’ve had with their games mean I’m willing to toss money at them without scrutinizing what I’m getting and why.

Now let’s move from the general to the specific. If you’ve followed my Great Battles saga from the beginning, you’ll know I was shying away from reinstalling the game because I recalled suffering through stability problems. Having mentioned it online, I was told the the GOG version resolved the issues the game had. Since then, I repurchased the game through GOG. I’ve been able to install and play the GOG versions of Alexander and Hannibal but it wasn’t until today I tried installing The Great Battles of Caesar. You see where this is going – it didn’t work.

GOG’s business model, apparently, was a successful one. They could acquire the rights to old games (abandonware for nothing and others for a trivial amount, one imagines), and, with only a small, further investment in fixing compatibility issues, get the program running again. They could then sell the games for amounts that we gamers considered trivial and still make good money in the process. Yet a flaw in this model may be becoming apparent. Compatibility with current operating systems isn’t a static measure. Windows has now advanced a few versions since GOG hit the scene and games for which, perhaps, they have already milked the value out of the market now require additional support.

The GOG message boards are littered with complaints about compatibility problems relative to the Great Battles series. Most of them focus on Windows 10, and GOG’s solution has simply been to declare that the game works only up through Windows 8. It does appear to me that compatibility problems are not restricted by operating system. Some purchasers are only able to play Great Battles of Alexander while others do fine with two out of three. I do not run on Windows 10, but I do seem to be in that latter category. When I play the GOG version, some scenarios crash the program on load while run then go into an error-throwing cycle.

Among the subset of posters who say they’ve found a solution, there is quite a bit of variability. It took me some trial and error to find the method that worked for me. First of all, the best patch for Caesar looks to be what’s available at this fan-made support website (http://www.ianm1.plus.com/). His patches contain what he refers to as the “latest” patch for each game in the series. I’m assuming he means the patch released by the publisher before support for the game was dropped. Applying this patch over the GOG version forces it to ask for the original CD – a step backward. There is a second patch, which he calls a new version, apparently from an enthusiastic player with a hex editor. Among other things, this removes the CD requirement.

On the GOG forum, this patch has mixed results and it certainly did not work well for me. Presumably the 1.1 patch (again concentrating on Caesar) is only fully compatible with the install (production CD) that it was made for. One user who successfully applied all patches explained that it is necessary to contact GOG support and ask them to give you their unmodified installer. Rather than do that, I dug out my Great Battles Collector’s Edition CDs and installed from there. Applying the 1.1 patch and then the “new version” patch resulted in a) some immediate graphic improvements and b) an executable that could load and run the scenarios that crashed under GOG. Again, this was my magic combination; others reported different results.

It is not polite to point.

Of course, it still crashed.

Now, one thing I had noticed after installing this “new version” is that the sounds and animations were all turned off by default. As I’ve said, I actually consider the animations a high point of this game. They’re both oddly aesthetic and help me take in enemy movements. After 2 or 3 crashes, all occurring after animating a large, enemy group move, I figured that maybe that animation was turned off for a reason. I set it all off and was able to complete the Battle of Bibracte without further incident.

Julius Caesar urges his forces forward to meet the Gauls at Bibracte.

Reading, as I was, the GOG forums I noticed posts that have been made after the release of Field of Glory II (FoG2). Although these are the Great Battles fanatics talking, there were a surprising number of posts talking about how FoG2 did not measure up to Great Battles. To an extent, I can see their point. In FoG2, the miniatures roots seem to shine through more. It may be in part due to unit size difference. It may be the different implementation of command and control. It may even have to do be the way the Great Battles battlefields and how they are more restricted.

Great Battles of Caesar, featuring Roman forces, don’t feature the phalanx formation that I found so special in the early iterations. Other unique features, however, do impact game play. In particular, a Roman army needs to make good use of group movement and group attacks. Without it, the lower-level legion commanders (labeled as tribunes in this battle) are allowed command over only two units. Practically speaking, this means that a legion can advance or attack straight ahead on its own, but repositioning or recovering from a heavily-contested fight requires the intervention of a general on par with Caesar.

My battle is nearly won when Gallic reinforcements threaten from my right. Who will break first?

Unfortunately, neither FoG2 nor Great Battles of Caesar enforce the Roman manipular deployment (although in both you can try to enforce it on your own). Great Battles falls short of FoG2 when it comes to scenario and campaign development. Between the modern scenario editing tools, “quick” battles, and the access to scenario scripting (both for play and for automated scenario construction), FoG2 makes a far better game for true sandbox play. In FoG2, it also seems easier to set up a challenging game without feeling entirely like it is “cheating.” Lastly, there are those crashes. Even though I feel like I’ve a handle on these recent crashes, I still want to tiptoe around my Great Battles fights with frequent saves. The current state-of-the-art in game engine technology brings with it an expectation of bug free, crash free game play.

Caesar takes on the Gauls in the linked campaign.

So why am I dwelling on Caesar’s Gallic Wars at all right now? The answer is in Field of Glory II. Whereas the linked campaign in Great Battles of Caesar is the war between Pompey and Caesar, for the campaign in FoG2 you must fight your way through Gaul. As I mentioned above, FoG2 has a superior system for creating a semi-random campaign based upon, potentially, all manner of criteria. So rather than the Great Battles method of playing the historical battles but selecting the order, FoG2 results from one battle can truly feed back into the campaign. Furthermore, the individual battles (different terrain, different forces) can be randomized, adding substantially to replayability.

As the lines clash, the Roman situation starts to look tenuous.

Like the well-designed single-player battles, a well-design campaign can be pretty challenging. To start the campaign, Caesar must meet a larger Gallic force in open battle; there is no initial branching. However, as the Romans, I do get to customize the makeup of my army. I have given Caesar a mixed bag when it comes to the legions he commands. While he has a core of seasoned legions in his center, the remaining forces are either newly-raised or otherwise just mediocre. The lack of quality shows when I start to take a beating on left side of my line. While some parts of my line are clearly superior, others are notably inferior.

When the tide turned, the shift was rapid.

Of course, one unit routing won’t lose you the battle. A whole bunch of units routing certainly will. Despite some weak points in my line, the generally-superior center held up well and I had enough of a lead to make up for weakness on my flanks. When the Gallic reinforcements showed up on my right, it was too little too late. Speaking of compare and contrast, compare the screenshot above with the Great Battles grab of the Roman center. Which one gives the better impression of four Roman legions arrayed against an enemy?

This looks more like Roman legions, all though it is more in appearance than in detail.

I can also divide my experience of the Battle of Bibracte across three different plays. In addition to the Caesar campaign, Field of Glory II has a one-off version of the fight. As you can see in the above screenshot, the way this scenario sets up the Roman attack gives a much better impression of a properly-organized Roman army. The skirmishers lead off and then are able to retreat through the advancing heavy infantry. The tough Roman legions (decent ones this time) are set up hit the enemy line in waves.

The battle is driven by a few key skirmishes. Here I break the primary infantry unit, securing my victory.

In this battle, the FoG2 importance of commanders comes into play, providing a contrast to Great Battles of Caesar with its activation and command limits. The key to the entire battle is a handful of key skirmishes around the map. If I am able to break an enemy strong point – his best troops – I will snowball towards victory. Those critical locations are defined by the troop quality, obviously, but also the location of the enemy generals.

FoG2‘s implementation of leadership bonuses makes for a faster, smoother game. There’s no more fiddling around with a general’s horse to try to get some extra forces into the command radius. Sensibly, the generals simply move with the units they command. It is also less engaging. Generals are simply a buff for a couple of your units with the added feature that they can be a target (a General’s death really hurts morale). I think FoG2 tells less of a “story.” Compare with a Caesar riding off mid-battle to shore up a flank and unexpectedly getting three initiatives, turning the tide of the battle. Is either implementation more historical or “realistic” than the other? I don’t know.

It may also be worth, once again, contrasting the screen grabs between the two engines. Once again, it is clear that Great Battles of Caesar implements the units at a finer grain and with more of a one-to-one relation to the historic order-of-battle. The simplicity is part of what makes FoG2 play smoother and probably also helps with the AI, but have we lost something as well?

Here they come again!

The result from all three battles was roughly the same. Rather than take advantage of my good defensive position, I moved out sharply and engaged. The move paid off when was able to pull irreversibly ahead before reinforcements arrive. Of the three, it was the campaign version that proved the most challenging, even though the end-result matched the other two. Of course, the challenge level has as much to do with difficulty settings and luck of the dice as anything. What I wonder most, going forward, is if Great Battles of Caesar is going to hold up, stability-wise, for the remainder of the scenarios. I also wonder if the user-made battles of the past ages are still out there for download and if they can be played without the dreaded crash.

Timeline of Timelines of Timeline

Tags

CCR, Crusader Kings, Crusader Kings 2, Crusader Kings 3, England, France, Hundred Years War, Led Zeppelin, The Accursed Kings, timeline, timelines

My feeling that the Hundred Years War is under served by PC gaming needed further exploration. My next test was a revisiting of Crusader Kings which, on the face of it, should be a perfect match for this period. However, I was already figuring that wasn’t going to work out in practice. The game obliged me by demonstrating a number of issues.

To get started, I tried returning to an alternate timeline that I had created to explore the rise of the House of Habsburg (but also found useful with regard to the Tour de Nesle affair). You might even recall that I had another coincident timeline which used Crusader Kings‘ features to focus on economics. Alas, these games are lost to the ages as there have been a significant updates to Crusader Kings, incompatible with my saves.

The changes to Crusader Kings II themselves are overshadowed by bigger news on the Crusader Kings front. The base Crusader Kings II game is now free on Steam. The DLC add-ons still will cost you but, if you don’t need those, you can play for free. The purpose of doing this is not exactly generosity on the part of Paradox Entertainment. They are currently hyping Crusader Kings III, planned for release some time in 2020. I look upon this with less enthusiasm as I might, but I’ll save that discussion for later. Instead, let’s get back to a new Hundred Years War campaign, in which I will play as Philip VI of France.

Fortunate Son

I began with the primary Crusader Kings starting point for the Hundred Years War, in 1337. The game starts you off with the proper historic personages and diplomatic structure to begin the conflict between France and England, one that should last until the end of the game, more or less. However, there is nothing that guarantees that the game will follow its historic course. Unlike Europa Universalis, Crusader Kings does not use history-based events to guide the game down a particular path.

As Philip VI, I immediately took a disliking to my son, John the so-called Good. I got wind of several of his plots to kill me and thus accelerate his accession to the kingship. I quickly stamped them out, but this kind of thing hardly endears one to a person. Despite proof of treason, I did not retaliate. Rather, I took the longer view of what would be good for my linage and for my nation. That didn’t mean that I didn’t gloat a little when John was killed while fighting in a grand tournament in Paris. When the time came for Philip to leave this world, it was his grandson who inherited the throne. John had but a single son before his untimely accident, whom he named Ogier.

King Ogier I takes the reins of France, but a 13-year-old is no match for the malevolence of medieval politics.

Ogier is an unlikely name for a king of France and so it seems fitting that he can’t last. The name has particular implications to me. Not least, I can’t help thinking of the Wheel of Time fantasy race of that name. Perhaps above all the newly-created words for the series, Ogier stuck out because the race is such a departure from the classic fantasy setting. Ogier is also the French name (Ogier le Danois) for Danish hero Holger Danske, a legendary knight of Charlemagne. I encountered the name before, while I was playing Legends of Eisenwald and trying to pin down its historical time and place*. Coincidently, I had also just watched the Danish film Flammen & Citronen, a dramatization of the exploits of two members of the World War II resistance group Holger Danske. John the Good must have entertained similar fascinations with history to chose this name for his only son.

The end of the Ogier era before it could even begin.

But as I said, Ogier could not last. While the list of claimants to the throne of France was long, Ogier’s anointed successor was the second son of Philip VI, Philip VII (in the real world he was merely the Duke of Orléans). The only thing standing between Philip and the throne was a weirdly-named, 14-year-old nephew who seemed incapable of controlling the French nobility. Sorry, Ogier. The problem here is that by killing the rightful king of France, Philip developed a reputation for nastiness that would haunt him until his death.

One of the more powerful factions aligned against Ogier and, with his death, now Philip was Blanche, the youngest daughter of King Philip V and the unfaithful Queen Joan. Somehow, my game Blanche managed to escape the nunnery (which confined the real Blanche) and she became the leading figure in a movement to restore the House Capet to the throne, thereby unseating the Valois children. Philip VII was, indeed, a more capable leader than the teenaged Ogier but there were too many powerful lords in Blanche’s corner. Shortly after gaining the throne through the murder of his nephew, Philip was forced to abdicated in favor of Blanche’s husband. Going quietly, he managed to retain the Duchy of Normandy and was granted an influential position on the royal council.

All that is to say that, by the time I find myself in the years beyond the ending of Quand un Roi perd la France, there is no Hundred Years War. France is fractured with a number of powerful interests lined up for the crown, but it is the Holy Roman Empire that seems to be the foreign influence behind the chaos. Unlike Edward and his personal claim to the French throne, the Germans are putting forth puppets and lining up the malcontents behind their proxies. As to Edward III, faced with a weakened France he seems to going the Church route to obtain global influence. In my game, there is no pope at Avignon. Instead, Edward has installed an anti-Pope in the north of England.

Clearly, as far as a strategic or operational treatment of the Hundred Years War goes, Crusader Kings II makes for a pretty poor game. Yet as an engaging historical representation of the times, it may not be doing all that bad. Just as The Accursed Kings tells us that it was some inconsequential intrigue on the part of Robert d’Artois that started a century of warfare, some unpleasant behavior on the part of Prince John seems to have avoided it altogether.

In Great Company

After having re-watched Troy, I got a hankering to re-read Timeline. I didn’t manage to get around to it at the time but now, having read The King without a Kingdom, it seemed like a good idea.

It is a struggle to make the connection between a Montjoie scenario and the novel, but I’ll do it anyway. One of the armies in the novel is commanded by Arnaut de Cervole, also known as l’Archiprêtre (or The Archpriest). Although not an actual priest, he was a minor noble invested with the fief at Vélines and he had also obtained the ecclesiastical office for the same territory. In The King without a Kingdom, we hear from Arnaud de Cervole’s perspective that the election of Pope Innocent VI caused the revocation of his benefice so that it could be redistributed as political payola. The Archbishop of of Bordeaux, who actually undertook the revocation, cited Cervole’s association “with brigands and men of base extraction” as reason to remove him as a representative of the Church.

Cervole had been gaining renown for his abilities in commanding small groups of mercenaries, and particularly for his skill in defeating castle walls during a siege. Through the 1350s, he commanded a group of roughly 80 men. In 1356, his men fought in the Battle of Poitiers. His side lost and he was wounded, but he also managed to marry the rich window of one of his fellow commanders killed during that battle. He also decided the the French king had only a weak hold over the troops under his command and was emboldened to expand his escapades beyond mercenary services into entrepreneurial banditry.

In 1357, he was elected leader of the Great Company (Grande Compagnie). He now commanded an army of 2,700+ soldiers and, after the Peace of Brétigny spelled the end to mercenary wages, began funding his now-unemployed army by pillaging the countryside. Enter the Arnaut of the book, who is doing just that. Unfortunately, his fictional location seems to conflict with where he actually was (Burgundy, as per Montjoie) at that time.

But what is that fictional location?

The novel takes place in the vicinity of two medieval towns, Castelgard and La Roque, neither of which actually exist (although the names are generic enough that close matches can be found almost anywhere). A little online searching, however, gave me a like suspect for a historic counterpart to the fictional towns. The real Château de Castelnaud-la-Chapelle seems a possible fill in for Castelgard. The term “Castelnaud” is of the same meaning and same roots as “Neuchâtel,” our great and fictional family from my lost timeline; meaning, essentially, New Castle. Across the Dordogne River from Castelnaud-la-Chapelle  is the rather formidable fortress, Château de Beynac. The etymology of that name is a reference to having survived the attacks of barbarians, which makes it a “rock” of sorts. It is also similar in layout to the fictional La Roque. Worth noting, if you were to go roughly the same distance but the opposite way along the river,  you would come to the village La Roche-Gageac. It is a town built into a cliff face along the Dordogne  river.

This would place the story in Périgord (home of Cardinal Talleyrand!), about 70 km south and west of Périgueux. Correctly, this is right on the border between the French and English holdings during the Hundred Years War. In truth, the real castles changed hands between French and English occupiers during the war, as is discussed regarding the fictional castles in the novel.

After all this research (and not having found anything that referred me back to the novel), I remembered that there was a another location given in the story- not in in the 14th century timeline, but in the present. The students go to “the restored medieval town of Sarlat” for a bit of nightlife, after work. Sarlat is about a 10 km drive from my proposed site and it seems that Crichton’s descriptions of it match the contemporary reality. I also notice that the Wikipedia page for the medieval county of Périgord contains a link describing the province as the location for Timeline. It is referenced (again, in the modern timeline) by it’s current designation, the department bearing the the same name as the river (Dordogne). Unfortunately, the footnote link goes to a dead page in Michael Crichton’s website, which he had created for the book Timeline. I have to wonder if everything that I sought out for myself was exactly explained by the author, had I only read it a few years earlier.

So there it is.

The scenario text introduces us to The Archpriest and his Great Company.

As I mentioned before, as simplistic as it is, the game Montjoie often provides a better feel for the historical timeline than Crusader Kings simply because it does so through a handful of events and some flavor text. In this case, it’s not clear to me how the flavor relates back to the mechanics. There are three factions in this scenario; France, England, and Burgundy. Are one or more of these factions to represent competing compagnies**? Are some or all of them meant to be play as the nation state as depicted? I played as Burgundy and lost. As Burgandy, this is a very difficult scenario. Burgundy is allied with the stronger France and the two must compete to see who can gather up the most points (territory x turns held) with out being allowed to take on each other directly. The French advantage is substantial.

A battle rages as the French and English fight over control in Périgueux.

More than anything else, I come back to Montjoie in this post so I can include the above screenshot. When I was playing the Chevauchée scenario, I couldn’t manage to capture the screen showing the battle animation. With the Grande Compagnies I did take some grabs while the AI players were fighting each other. Not being animated, you don’t get the full effect. Each formation of soldiers is a static rendering, but they independently wiggle and moves around the screen. Arrows fly and, as units meet their maker, they are flicked out of the frame (see the infantry at the top-center of the battle). When killed, they leave behind cartoonish but gory remains. The animations are accompanied by sound effects. In total, it all seems quite silly, which drives one’s impression for the game overall.

I’ll also toss this last bit in here. When the book was published a release of a tie-in PC game quickly followed. That game is generally regarded as pretty bad and, like the film, lost money.

Traveler of Both Time and Space

I’ve read the book before, so the re-reading goes quickly. Timeline follows the path of Crichton’s signature science fiction; anchored just enough in reality that it becomes difficult to figure out where the science ends and the fiction begins. By his own admission, he put more effort into the details of the Medieval history than into the quantum physics. Like Jurassic Park, part of his goal seems to be to emphasize the state-of-the art in Medieval History (or Dinosaur-related scientific thought, if we’re back in Jurassic Park) and the way that popular conception “has it wrong.”

I’m going to break with my usual tradition and fully give away portions of the plot and the ending of the book. I figure that the book has been out a long time; it was published twenty years ago in November, 1999. The movie has been out long enough to have already been viewed and (mercifully) forgotten. Besides that, we’re not talking the great works of literature here. Since I was reading this book for the nth time since I first got it, my experience is one of being fully aware of the plot line. Stop now if you want to read the book unspoiled by me.

Having the plot “spoiled” was actually a help to me given one of my complaints, a problem I had after the first time through. As I’ve said, a Crichton device is to have characters discover key plot points only to have them unable to explain the discovery to the reader, which sets up tension. When it comes, Crichton’s reveal is often disappointing given the setup. However, when one knows all the twists going in, the false tension tends to be considerably less annoying.

Consider one such example from Timeline. One of the students is a physicist named David Stern. He has been chosen to travel back in time but backs out at the last moment for reasons he can’t quite articulate. The first-time reader is eager to learn what Stern seems to have figured out, particularly since he’s a physicist. Is there bad math or science? Turns out, he just suspects that the presentation they were given omitted some information about risks. They did, but it’s only a gut feeling of his. Eventually, he gets the extra details, which mostly seem inconsequential to the plot.

One might expect, based entirely on the subject matter, the book to be a modernization of A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court (110-years older than Timeline, btw). If any of us has had fantasies about traveling back in time, we probably would hope to use our “present” knowledge to our advantage. The one thing that would make us unique among the vast population of a past age is that we could “predict the future.” But in Timeline, the great moment – the prediction of total eclipse – never comes.

Instead, we have Professor Johnson, who not only has an encyclopedic knowledge of the 14th Century (not too surprising, given his academic position) but is also master of the chemistry and manufacturing of gunpowder (something of a stretch). We have medieval fanatic Andre Marek being able to believably pass himself off as a (time) native, which is part and parcel of that time-travel fantasy. But can we really accept that, because he has “studied” sword combat, archery, and jousting, he will find himself superior to the knights of 1357 – men whose lives have depended upon expert use of arms? I’m not sure I can.

Back to the present and the “quantum physics” plot theme. David Stern’s great eureka moment is that, when the integrity of glass holding tanks is suspect, they should use weather balloons as structural reinforcement. This was another letdown for anyone reading, racing ahead to find out what his big idea was. First of all, given the description of the problem (glass holding tanks are required for perfectly uniform shielding), I’m not sure plopping a weather balloon into the tanks would be a valid solution. But if it was, wouldn’t the facilities engineers have figured it out already? They must have struggled with the structural integrity of giant glass water tanks all along. If a plastic lining could have bought them a factor-of-safety without threatening symmetry, surely someone would have identified it and sold it as a cost saving measure.

My last complaint is something I glossed over in all my previous reads. Throughout the book, Robert Doniger, founder of the time-traveling organization (ITC) and intellectual driver behind the advances (similar to John Hammond from Jurassic Park, but with more science), is portrayed as an unpleasant and unlikable person. In the end, he gets his just desserts. He is sent back to Castelgard in 1348, when the town is being consumed by the Black Death. It is quite the horrible end; one might say an end one “wouldn’t wish upon their worst enemy.” It is also, unlike being eaten by the very Dinosaurs you’ve had resurrected, only brought about by deliberate action by the other characters. So what has Doniger done that is so evil? Frankly, I’m not sure. He impedes the local government from investigating injury and death at his facilities, but he does so to keep his technological advancements moving forward rather than to avoid being held accountable. He did not inform the students of the potential risk of “transcription errors,” which he justifies because the risk is minimal. In this he’s right; injury from the time travel technology is of trivial concern when compared to the risk of having your head lopped off by an angry knight. He also seems to allow or even encourage letting Stern travel using unsafe equipment before forbidding him to do the same. He says he was “joking” at first, but his legal council (Diane Kramer) doesn’t fully believe him. Finally, his “last straw” seems to be that he withheld information about the financial stake ITC has invested in the archeological endeavors.

So are any of these capital offenses? It may be true that all of ITC, the science, and mankind may be better served with Robert Doniger no longer at ITC’s helm, but executution by plague? That seems a bit harsh. Wouldn’t it have been more reasonable to simply cooperate with authorities and have Doniger arrested for his lying to officialdom? It almost seems as though ITC executives Kramer (the lawyer) and Gordon (what was Gordon?) were being set up as sequel villains – people who are willing to kill their boss to keep their technology and their profits alive. Eh, probably not.

I don’t know what it is that draws us to re-read books and re-watch movies. I guess there is something about letting our minds float down a familiar path that is pleasurable. However, this isn’t universal. I know people who re-read books but would never watch a movie a second time (“I’ve already seen it!”). There are people who watch their favorite movies over and over, but wouldn’t waste their time reading a book they’ve “finished.” I like to do both.

*The reference to Charlemagne didn’t help. It was already quite clear that the events of Legends of Eisenwald were supposed to take place well after the time of Charlemagne.

**Also called Tard-Venus or latecomers.

So Many Years Have Gone

Tags

France, Les Revenants, Queen, The Returned, zombie

Finding myself unsatisfied with the partially completed U.S. version of The Returned, I started in with the French version. While The Returned was removed from Netflix streaming, Les Revenants remains available.

At this stage, I am just wrapping up the first season. To a point, the stories track each other nearly identically, so there is little in the way of surprises. Within the first six episodes, while the story remains the same, there are small differences in the details between the two versions and I think many of those differences are enlightening.

One obvious fact up-front is that they are all different actors. In some cases, there is a strong resemblance between the original French actor and the American (mostly) actor chosen for the A&E series. This, however, is the exception, not the rule. What is consistent is that the American actors are, in almost all cases*, much prettier people than the corresponding French actors. It’s not that the French actors are actually ugly – they are probably still better-looking than the population as a whole – its just that they look more “average.” There is something to be said for this. It is strange enough that there is this small town that has its dead returning from the grave. What are the odds that it is also populated by the most beautiful residents this side of Hollywood? On the other hand, we in the U.S. have got pretty used to watching beautiful faces when we zone out in front of the TV for an evening. Is that really so wrong? In any case, to Americans it is probably the French actors that look not quite right, not the overly-beautiful Americans.

Once I got over that, I began to notice other little differences in the story line. In almost every case that nuance added to the story (or took away, given that the American version is the derivative one). As an example, one of the returned, Simon, seeks out the woman he was to marry before he died. After his death, she moved on, at least for the most part. As the series starts up, she is about to marry the chief of the police (a County Sheriff in the American version and a Captain in the Gendarmerie in the French). Said chief attempts to pin murders on Simon, first to keep him away from his fiancee and, later, to justify his shooting the unarmed Simon near (or in, depending on the version) his home. In the American version, finds himself unable to pay for lunch (and the dead, you should know, are always hungry), Simon is guilty of a dine-and-dash. In the French version, Simon viciously assaulted the manager at a diner upon said manager’s refusal to sell him something suitable for the change he has in his pocket. The French crime creates a plausible deniability for our Captain; the known assailant in an assault would, indeed, be a top suspect in another, unsolved, assault. It also poses a question about whether Simon lacks the humanity, after his return, that he had before he died. This is just an example of many small changes, many of which point in this same direction. The French version seems to involve more consistent expression of these themes as well as, honestly, making a little more logical sense.

By Episode 7, however, the two stories depart from each other in major ways. I can no longer hold out the hope that the French series will answer the questions left open by the unfinished American series. It seems clear that, whatever answers are to be had, they will be different between the two. On the original French track it is again this focus on particular themes that would set it apart. The “zombie” genre themes are there; us versus the other and what makes us human and them inhuman seem to be more important in the French. The breakdown of polite society and the survival thereof is also introduced. There also seems to be more importance attached to the meaning of the returns, even if they remain a mystery to the viewer.

Another apparent theme, at least to my American eyes, is the nature of the surveillance State. In both versions, a key plot element is that fact that the police chief has placed surreptitious video cameras in his house to watch his girlfriend/fiancée when he is not home. In the French, version, however, the police also have public cameras throughout the town, manned constantly by police officers. They police can track the comings and goings of anyone they want at any time they want, and yet have trouble finding and catching certain “criminals,” who also happen to be the returned dead. Is this element part of the show because it is normal to have constant surveillance in every small town in France? Or is this a statement about the nature of the police state and its dehumanizing effects? Or is, perhaps, the “eye in the sky” an allegory for something else? Without understand French life in the twenty-teens, I don’t think I can answer that question. Unless it becomes more explicit in Season 2.

With the American version having ended without having gone anywhere particular, it is difficult to compare and contrast. For the most part, the pieces of the French version that A&E left out seem to have detracted from the experience rather than streamlined it. On the other hand, getting away from the more traditional “zombie” aspects of the original should be worth something. Aren’t we all starting to get a little zombied out? Maybe, but let us see where the French series takes us, shall we?

*An exception to the rule that I’ll remark upon is that the “Lena” actress (the present-day Lena) has grown up to be better looking, and better looking than her younger-self. In the A&E version I, at least, found her less so. It seems important to the story that she actually grew up to be beautiful rather than just have that something that her sister says to her. Then again, beauty may be in the eye of the beholder; others may find the American Lena to be more attractive than I did.

You’re Golden

Tags

Battle of Courtrai, Battle of the Golden Spurs, Belgium, Bruges, Field of Glory, Field of Glory - Unity, Flanders, France, Great Privilege, Philip IV, shibboleth, States General, taxation is theft

Wikipedia reminds us not to confuse The Battle of the Golden Spurs (Dutch: Guldensporenslag) with the The Battle of the Spurs. I have been guilty of doing just that.

The Battle of the Golden Spurs, also called the Battle of Courtrai, was a major battle in the ongoing Franco-Flemish conflict of that period. Philip IV, in an attempt to annex the County of Flanders to become a part of, or at least subject to, the Kingdom of France, had managed to divide the Flemish nobles. Through the 1290s, while he was able to get some notable support, the Flemish society had divided into “Lilies” (pro-French) and “Claws” (pro independence factions). In 1297, Philip enlisted the force of arms to invade the county and press his claim. By 1300, he had gained complete administrative control of the county and imprisoned the leader of the independence faction, Guy of Dampierre.

In Flanders, the “middle class” (if you will) had developed a system of self-government backed by the merchant guilds that challenged the authority of any royal claim to the right to rule. The burghers of Flanders were in conflict with Guy of Dampierre over the question of authority and, indeed, it was this split that gave Philip’s claim its legitimacy.

The immediate spark was, as it is so much of the time, over the issue of taxation. After Philip had secured his authority in Flanders, he and his wife payed a visit to Bruges. The “Lilies,” who tended at that point to be of the upper classes, welcomed him in such lavish style that even the royal couple was impressed by the opulence. After Philip left, a tax was levied on the (mostly “Claw”) merchants to fund the event. Peter DeConick, the Dean of the Weavers’ Guild, with appeals to liberty, organized a resistance to the payment of the new taxes.

In a story that seems to repeat itself through history, the tax rebellion drew the attention of the royal Governor, who dispatched a force to garrison Bruges and restore order. The ruling magistrates of Bruges, Lilies, but still jealous of their local control, insisted that the city only admit a token force of French soldiers. Instead, the French entered the city with thousands of armed knights. Wild rumors flew throughout the city. It was said that the French had arrived with ropes to hang any Claws that still remained in the city. It was said that the French were preparing to slaughter every last man woman and child. With the people in terror of what was to come, some of the remaining Claws in the city slipped away and met with DeConcik to tell him of the impending doom.

That night, DeConick returned to the city with a force of men and surprised the garrison guards. Far from preparing for a massacre, the French had been engaged in a celebratory feast that lasted late into the night. The attackers roused the masses from the town and then made their way through the city shouting “shield and friend” (schild en vriend), a phrase which Frenchmen were known for being unable to pronounce. Those who were tripped up by their French accent were killed on the spot. This incident, on the morning of May 18th 1302, was called the Bruges Matins – an allusion to the Sicilian Vespers and the Italian revolt against their own French occupiers.

The battle itself took place when Philip sent forth a French force to put down the rebellion and take vengeance upon its leaders. The rebels in Bruges, meanwhile, managed to bring most of the Flemish towns on board. The nobility of Flanders tended to be more sympathetic to the French rule and few took part in the uprising. The forces of the commoners were, however, far from an untrained rabble. Militias were fielded by the merchant class and were both well-equipped and well-trained. The disparity in the two forces was in cavalry. One contemporary source suggests that there were no more than ten mounted soldiers on the Flemish side of the battle, facing something like 2,500 mounted soldiers for the French.

The Flemish militias deploy behind marshy ground and prepared trenches, ready to meet the French knights.

The Flemish were prepared for the arrival of the French army, having taken the time to select good defensive ground as well as construct obstacles. They forced the French to approach their lines by crossing marshy streams. They also concealed pitfalls with brushwood, causing advancing armored troops, especially the knights, to fall into the water and become trapped by mud and their own heavy armor. Defensive pits were also placed to break up the heavy cavalry charge that ruled the battlefields of the day.

The defensive position of Flanders combined with another factor to produce the outcome, a win for the underdog Flemish rebels. As indicated, the view of the time was that battles were won by a charge of heavily-armored knights. Even against a numerically-superior and well-equipped foe, the heavy horse would carry the day, especially if they were unopposed and allowed the run of the battlefield. Thus, while Philip’s commander, Robert II of Artois**, had a formidable infantry force of his own and while that infantry saw some initial success, he ultimately withdrew his infantry to make way for a charge of his knights. That misplaced confidence was a key to his loss in this battle.

Fighting from the side of Flanders, a suitable representation of this battle is enabled by the new Fog(U) AI. To reproduce the battle’s progress and outcome, it is necessary for the French to ignore the terrain, and press forward with his knights against the prepared Flemish. The old AI would never have done it, but the newly-aggressive AI charges straight into the trap. Predictably, playing as Flanders, I handily won the fight.

I also tried playing from the other side. I surmised that the less aggressive AI of the original Field of Glory would be more suited to the defensive strategy required from Flanders. Playing the scenario in the old version, I did see some of that supported. While the AI wasn’t smart enough to stay put in its strong defensive position, it was hesitant moving forward. That wasn’t enough to gain a victory.

Occasionally aggressiveness and élan is better than smarts, but usually not.

To mollify my curiosity, I tried the scenario one last time, but in FoG(U). I again played as the French, although I gave the computer a slight advantage in the setup screen. I don’t know what that does, although I assume it tilts resolution odds in the computer’s favor. The difference in computer play was clear – the AI charged forwards, engaging the French deep in the mire of the swamp. I also advanced fairly rapidly, not wanting to skew the results too badly. Early on, it seemed that the computer had a points advantage over the original AI by aggressively pressing the attack and forcing me to engage without being able to bring my units into the line as I would have liked. It also may simply have been that I had tipped the game in the AI’s favor with the mathematical advantage. In the end, the Flemish still lost and I think the old AI probably did a little better.

One difficulty in comparing AI apples to oranges is that the new FoG(U) displays the order (as in cohesion, not rank) of units differently. In the original, units did become progressively more disordered by crossing bad terrain, but the degradation was only visible when mousing over a unit to view the details. In the new version, the decline in cohesion is indicated on the main unit display, with additional indicators like “S” and “DD.” It makes the game a little easier to play, but also makes it look like the armies are doing much worse in the new version than in the old.

Pax Renaissance ties the victory in the Battle of the Spurs to the Flemish negotiating position in the Treaty of Athis-sur-Orge to the granting of local control of taxation in Flanders. This impacts the political situation in the late 15th century through the independence of the County of Flanders coupled with the wealth of its trading interests. In particular, the Great Privilege of 1477 codified the control that the representative body (the States* General) had over the affairs. The creation of a “States General of Burgundy” is part of the Republican victory condition for that game.

A sizeable chunk of Europe’s future seems to flow from the outcome of a fairly mid-sized battle.

*States, in this context, means not a State as in a nation or political subdivision thereof. Instead, it is a reference to the “Estates,” the classes of society, traditional though of as clergy, nobility, and commons. In terms of the States General in Flanders, the term State came to mean the representative body for the “Estates” themselves.

**The death of Robert II in battle left his three-year-old grandson, Robert III, disinherited relative to the County of Artois. Maurice Druon proposes that this was a primary cause for the Hundred Years War.

No One Expects the Spanish Inquisition

Tags

crusades, France, Monty Python's Flying Circus, Ottoman Empire, Pax Renaissance, Spain

I am playing out a game in Pax Renaissance, trying to analyze the end moves. Having just put some thought into the time surrounding the conquest of the Emirate of Granada, it leads me to consider how the various options for fit into a historical narrative (either similar to or departing from actual history.)

For this turn, we are considering the options of the Fuggers. In the late 1480s the Fugger family, while established in Augsburg, were not yet players on the world stage. They had only begun their financial relationship with the Habsburgs, a relationship that would soon see them financing Charles V’s election as emperor. Indeed, the card layout fairly represents the Fugger’s interests at the time, with some market concessions in Germany and some heavy investment in Hungary. The Fuggers actually did, within this same time frame, control copper mining operations in Hungary and mines elsewhere in Silesia and Tirol. Perhaps not enough to actually “control” the throne of Hungary, as in this game, but – well – close enough.

The only empire under control is Hungary. On the other hand, look at all that law prestige accompanied by “vote” operations in both tableaux. No money, though.

By contrast, my rivals (the Medici bank) dominate the Silk and Spice trade from the East with control of the trade routes through the Mediterranean. Despite heavy influence in the courts of the Ottomans and Byzantium (which quite ahistorically has not fallen to the Muslims), they are unable to substantialyl profit from the Silk Road trade, which is no longer fully reaching Europe. The Medici also have their fingers in the court of Portugal, but despite some exploration of the African coast, there is no alternate sea route to the east. The Medici do control the more accessible trade through the Black Sea port of Tana, although it is more difficult to profit from those investments.

Medici (yellow cubes) dominate the trade routes. They also have substantial influence in the Muslim controlled east. But the future is in Republicanism.

In building this powerful position, the Medici let one opportunity slip by.

The Medici have control over Portugal, the Ottoman Empire, and Byzantium, in addition to their trade dominance.

Recall that the victory conditions in Pax Renaissance are determined dynamically by the players.  Within the theme of the game, a comet appeared in 1472. Rather than superstitiously dwelling on the portents, astronomer Regiomontanus of Nürnburg (Johannes Müller) used geometry and astronomy to estimate the size and distance of the comet from the earth. He failed by orders of magnitude, but at least he tried.  Gamewise, the Fuggers were able to declare a “Renaissance Victory” which measures the advancement from the Medieval Age to the Early Modern Age by the ascendancy of Republican-ruled nations and city-states. It was largely a defensive move, as the Medici’s have two types of victory within their grasp. Their control of the Ottoman empire gives them a “Holy Victory” (for Islam) and their additional control of Portugal and Byzantium gives them an “Imperial Victory.” Fugger really didn’t have a Renaissance Victory in sight when choosing it, but there is now an opportunity for them in the West.

While the real money is in the spice and silk trade with the Far East, that wealth is largely inaccessible to the merchants of Western Europe.

What Fugger does have some influence over is the clergy on the Iberian peninsula, particularly the zealots of the Office of the Inquisition in Castile and an anti-monarchy faction in Aragon. This can be deployed strategically to substantial advantage. By critiquing the pace and enthusiasm of Castile’s commitment to the reconquista I will provoke a new crusade to be declared charged with wiping out the Muslim occupation once and for all. In doing so, I can force a upheaval in the ruling powers of that nation (and, of course, replacing the Medici people with those loyal to myself). As an added bonus, a crusade will draw in knights from France and Aragon, potentially weakening those powers and making them vulnerable to the inquisitors of Castile and Portugal. Having gained control of Castile, Portugal, and perhaps France or Aragon, I can now go after the monarchs themselves. Shifting the power from those nations’ kings to republics will win me the game.

The Emirate of Grenada is a black mark on the heart of Christendom. It is here I will make my move.

Given the choice between France and Aragon, it is France that presents a weakness. At first glance, they are the strongest of the three empires bordering Castile. However, in additional to co-opting their knights into my crusade, I have another card up my sleeve (almost literally, as we are talking about a card game here). In the north-west corner of the area of French influence, there are several provinces that have eschewed feudalism for centuries. It will be easy enough to provoke conflict between the republican sentiment in Friesland and Groningen and the nobility who see an opportunity to be granted hereditary control over those territories. Such a conflict would also draw in the forces of the French king and, combined with the crusade, leave France open to invading armies.

The Turn of a Friendly Card

That’s quite a tale and I’d like to walk through it again in gameplay terms. Cast in those terms, the Renaissance Victory is active and I already have 3 cards with “Law” prestige. That means to qualify for victory, I simply need to have more republics than my opponent. In this case, neither myself nor enemy control any Republics thus far. So as it stands right now, converting one of my monarchies to a republic will be sufficient to win.

There is one caveat in this. Claiming victory in itself is a move. Each player turn consists of two actions, so in a way one player takes two turns and then the other player takes two turns. If you are able to achieve conditions for victory in one move, you then use your second action of the turn to declare victory. If, on the other hand, it takes two actions to put you into a winning position, you then must allow two turns from your opponent. In a way, it disadvantages the “offensive” player in that “defender” always gets one extra move to stave off defeat. It also means that a victory is often a multi-turn plan that can go wrong any number of ways in the interim.

The Spanish Inquisition card can launch a Crusade.

Considering this, although I only need to convert one empire to a republic, I’m going to target two to give my plan some redundancy. Target number one is Portugal, given that the card in my hand has the ability to capture that empire via a Crusade. Target number two, as I discussed above, is France. If you look at my tableau (the first picture in this article), I have a card for France with the “Siege” operation. With that, I have the ability to weaken the defenses in France to a point where I can invade and capture it. Assuming, of course, that I control an empire from which to invade. Like Portugal.

The Grand Inquisitor card is playable immediately and would transfer Portugal from the Medici tableau to my own. But there is a problem. I don’t need to just control the Portuguese government (and remember, back in the narrative, Portugal and Castile are both represented by the Portugal designation within the game), I need to further be able to unseat the monarchy. I have the means to do so in the form of two “Vote” operations in my tableau, but I can’t win that vote. To be successful with a vote, I need to have a plurality of the concessions bordering the empire where the vote is taking place. Right now, the Medici have the one and only concession. The black pirate blocks a second concession from being place. So while I am entitled to place one concession upon taking control of Portugal, that would require repressing the existing Medici merchant first. Repression costs money and, again looking at that top picture, I don’t have any money.

Therefore, before I consider playing that card I’m going to need to generate some cash. The Trade Fair is out because the Western market doesn’t have money and the Eastern market is completely under the Medici’s control. What I do have is a “Commerce” operation in my Tableau, courtesy of a secret organization of guilds based in Aragon which is anti-monarchist, anti-feudal, and anti-Islamic. The “Revolt of the Brotherhoods,” the event in “The Hidden” one-shot, will never take place in this game (and is anyway some decades in the future), but were they around already it might make sense that these folks would support my own play. If I play that Commerce operation before launching the Crusade, I’ll be able to fund the it properly.

As an action, executing operations is special. Rather than launching a single operation the player, using a single action, can play any or all of their operations within a single tableau (East or West). This obviously opens up the possibility of some complex moves, particularly in the end game when there are a lot of cards on the table. It also means for some complex interactions you have to not only carefully choose which operations to execute, but also the order.

My plan for the turn is to use three operations to pave the way for my use of the Grand Inquisitor for the crusade. First, I get some advantage from the existing Medici influence in Portugal/Castile. With the tax operation, I warn the Grenadians of the impending assault upon them and cause them to tax the Medici merchants to build up their defenses. It costs the Medici all of their remaining money and will make the impending crusade all the more bloody, which I think will be to my advantage. Next, as I suggested, I draw on the Brotherhoods to raise funding for my own army. Finally, the Frisian Freedom card is used to eliminate the rook from Lyon.

That opens up the play for the seizure of Portugal. With this setup, the ensuing battle will see the loss of the two defenders (the rook in Granada and the black pirates), and I will sacrifice the crusading knights from Paris and Valencia, thus preserving the Catholic army in Toledo. The Portugal empire card is transferred from the Medici tableau to my own, eliminating their influence via Elżbieta of Bohemia in the process.  In order to facilitate the republican surge that I intend for the next turn, I will place my concession from the regime change on the border with England, repressing their existing merchant, and set up ready to support a vote.

That repressed merchant may cause problems going forward, as the residual influence of the Medici would try to block my disassembly of the Castile monarchy. Fortunately, I have the Spanish Inquisition and two operational cards to facilitate it. Upon placing the Grand Inquisitor in my tableau, I will deploy the bishop on that card. In the following turn, I can move the bishop to Portugal and pacify the Medici serf. With two inquisitor operations, which I have, I can also move the bishop back, freeing up the Kingdom of Portugal and its armies to pressure France into my camp.

These move are enough for me to set up a win for next turn, but the Medici has a turn to foil my plan. Indeed, they have a path to do so, even though it may not by obvious at first glance. (Actually, it is not obvious at all to you, because my screenshots don’t show my opponents hand, which holds two “one-shot” cards). The secret to saving himself relies, not on countering my moves and blocking my conversion of France and/or Portugal to be a republic. One of those two is enough for me to win and, anyway, there is no means for the Medici to influence either. Instead, he needs to control a Republic of his own, insuring that I need, not one, but at least two republics to claim victory.

But that drama is going to have to wait for another article.

Less Pike, More Shot

Tags

Field of Glory, France, Francis II, Holy Roman Empire, Italian War of 1521-1526, Italian Wars, Pike and Shot, The Battle of Bicocca, The Battle of Pavia

The Italian War of 1521 to 1526 is also referred to as the Four Years War, although you think that name would have been taken already. If you are keeping track at home, it is the 4th in the series of Renaissance Italian Wars. Although it is in many ways a continuation of the conflicts begun in 1494, this one starts in what is in many ways a new world.

Luther’s theses have already started to shake the foundations of the Christian West. Charles V has united the Kingdoms of Spain, the Duchy of Austria, the Duchy of the Netherlands, and the titles of the Holy Roman Empire under one rule. In the last, he has incurred the ire of Francis I, who very much wants to the Emperor himself. That’s on top of decades of political maneuvering in Italy. The influence of the Ottoman Empire is also beginning to encroach on the affairs of Italy, particularly as their capture of Belgrade foretold invasions from the Turks soon to come.

Pike and Shot has scenarios for two of the largest battles in this Italian War; The Battles of Bicocca (1522) and Pavia (1525). Both of the battles were French defeats with the latter resulting in the capture and imprisonment of Francis, thus leading to France seeking terms to ransom the king and end the war.

Bicocca

They are both scenarios with unique conditions, and both are played as the (presumably) underdog French. In the first battle, you take command as the Swiss Pike formations begin rushing headlong at the Imperial fortified defenses. In the actual battle, the Swiss mercenaries attacked first (rather on their own initiative – they refused to wait for coordination with the French artillery) and largely broke their formations against the enemy’s defenses. With the core of the French army in disarray, there was little left for Imperial army to do but wait for the French to flee the field.

At the outset, the notes suggest to the player that he (I) ought to make the best use possible of his (my) French forces to aid in the Swiss attack that is occurring with or without him (me). I have no control over the Swiss – they are a computer controlled ally. This strategy makes the battle winnable. Obviously so as I, in fact, won. I attribute much of my victory to the fact that the Germans counter-attacked, moving forward from the protection of their defenses and exposing themselves to my counter-counter-attack. Whether this could be considered “Bad AI” (playing the Imperials, I would have tried to stay behind my walls) or simply a realistic result of what happens once units engage, I won’t try to say. It is already very much a speculative battle.

The scenario also employs what I think was a bit of scripting to implement one historical aspect of the battle (and hopefully this isn’t a spoiler for anyone). As the Swiss approach the Imperial line, the arquebusiers hold the front position behind a wall and German pike backs them up. At some point they swapped positions (without actually maneuvering). This duplicates the actual battle where the Swiss ranks were first shredded by musket fire and then attacked with fresh pike formations. It is a nifty way to implement the scenario but again shows the weakness in expecting a game engine to be able to generically represent a period’s battles.

Pavia

In the several years following, the French suffered a series of disappointments. Although at several junctures they had superiority of force, they were never able bring that to bear by cornering and defeating the opposing army.

In late fall, 1524, Francis personally lead an army across the Alps and began re-seizing territory lost at the outset of the conflict.  Eventually, Francis laid siege to a much smaller force defending the city of Pavia. Through a series of factors, both strategic and diplomatic, the Imperial forces achieved a local superiority in numbers and began a pre-dawn attack and sally to break the French army.

The French army was bivouacked inside a walled park north of the city. Units actually involved in the siege were close in to the city and the remaining force was scattered within the protections of these walls. The battle began as Imperial engineers worked overnight, under cover of an artillery bombardment, to create a breach in the park walls which would allow their armies to enter the park and align against the French for a dawn assault.

Once again, the Pike and Shot scenario is designed to highlight some unique features of this battle. The map, as we will see in more detail later, recreates the fight in a linear fashion. The French forces are sandwiched between the defenders in Pavia’s fortifications and the relieving force to the North, which we are told have penetrated the wall. The notes suggest the player, as French commander, must make a decision about how to split his forces to defeat the attack from the North while protecting against the city’s defenders in the South.

The initial clash with the enemy occurs in some very bad ground. The minimap shows the bulk of the Imperial army hanging back. I assumed this was an AI mistake until they moved forward and crushed me.

The scenario was harder than the previous in the campaign, so much so I’m not even sure what my mistake was. I over-withdrew from the siege lines and was, at game end, overwhelmed by attacks out from the city. At the same time, my forces in the north were insufficient to defeat the attackers. I pressed on with some hope of winning some localized battles, but I don’t think I even got close.

Of course, a similar fate awaited Francis on that day. Upon warning that a Imperial attack was in progress, Francis lead a counter attack. Having underestimated the size of the opposing force, the initial French attacking force were quickly separated from the remainder of the army and were rendered even less effective by the broken terrain. In the end, Francis himself was captured and the French army suffered huge losses. The besieging force was driven off and also suffered significant loss. The focus of the war moved from capture of territory to the ransom of Francis, ultimately drawing the Ottomans into the fight.

Non-Linear

The Imperial army starts the day forming outside of the breach in the park wall. Note, especially, the nice pike and shot formation at the top-center (where it says Spanish arquebusiers). The AI is not going to be able to keep that together.

To compare, I played a user-made (created by the same user as many of previous games) scenario for Field of Glory. My immediate impression (which I tried to capture with the above screenshot) was of a more realistic battlefield layout. Unlike the previous battle, there seems to be an emphasis in accurately recreating the terrain (as far as historical documentation and the medium allow). Comparing it to a painting of the battlefield (shown below), you can see that the Field of Glory map captures many more of the key features in a visually-accurate way.

[Image from Wikipedia]Difficult from the limited scope of the above screenshot, but comparing the FoG map with a near-contemporary painting of the battle shows that this is a more accurate representation of the field.

Another major difference, relative to Pike and Shot, is that Field of Glory does not represent the combined pike and shot formations that were coming to define the imperial armies of this time. Instead, the larger units must be constructed with pike formations in proximity to units of arquebusiers.  Indeed, the latter seems to be the industry norm as the HPS/Tiller functions the same way. I’ve had positive experiences with Field of Glory and well-made medieval battles, but I don’t think that extends into the pike and shot era. While there is something interesting about seeing the unit makeup of a colunella in the Field of Glory deployments, the engine and, more particularly, the AI don’t quite seem up to it.

As a head-to-head scenario this one might be quite a different experience, but as a player versus computer the initial good qualities are quickly overwhelmed by problems. As alluded to above, the AI doesn’t have any appreciation for the combined pike and shot formations that were so critical to the imperial army, and immediately begins separating them. Worse, it doesn’t quite understand the wall with a breach in it, and begins running its troops back and forth outside the eastern wall. The decision, in the Pike and Shot scenario, to start the game with the imperials already deployed inside the wall (and, indeed, to forgo the wall entirely) is validated in this scenario.

As I played it, the worst damage the AI dealt to me came from their cannon within the Pavia defenses – they would have been better off not attacking in the first place. Even more than my previous play, the Field of Glory scenario demonstrates how much of the battle gets tied up in the ugly terrain near the breach in the wall.  Given the confused AI, though, the wall itself protected me from the superior numbers available to the Imperial forces. I was able to slowly defeat enough units in detail to obtain a victory.

Remake

I’ve early played some attempts to remake the stock scenarios for Pike and Shot, and I’ve been disappointed. I was a little nervous about loading up a user-made Battle of Pavia scenario, but on viewing it I quickly changed my attitude.

Atmosphere. From the dark and foggy beginning to the accurate depiction of the battlefield, this is a fine looking scenario. This screenshot shows the siege lines around the City of Pavia itself.

The user-made version of Pavia, much like the Field of Glory version, recreates a multi-dimensional version of the battlefield. In some cases, the square grid means the walls look a little funky as compared to FoG, but that is easily overlooked. Pike and Shot has much more attractive period graphics, and the the designer was able to mold a version of the battlefield that really feels right.

The scenario starts out, like the stock Pike and Shot version, just as Francis becomes aware that an Imperial army is inside of the park walls. The fog of war is modified to recreate the dark and foggy conditions that initially covered the battlefield. As the French player, I really have no idea where the enemy is and in what numbers and so my initial moves involve sending light cavalry around the map trying to figure out the situation. Without the linear simplification, the battlefield devolves into scattered, localized fighting. The chaos adds to the feel and the AI doesn’t get too baffled by the more complex situation. I have not tried to look at what scripting enhancements the scenario builder had to employ to get it all to work, but I would guess there is something.

As the battle begins its march towards the inevitable conclusion (I, France, lost again), I noticed how the key fights and locations of the battle played out very similarly both Pike and Shot versions. That is, the simplification of the battlefield in the stock scenario still preserved much of the battle’s action. This latter version was even more difficult, in terms of trying to win against the AI, than the original. Once again, I was overwhelmed in all places and had little sense of a “mistake” that I made to get things going all wrong.

As a historical exposition, I like this third scenario better. As a game-play “puzzle,” for the player to figure out how to reverse the historical course of the battle, the stock scenario might be a little better in its simplifications. And the Field of Glory scenario? That tells me that Field of Glory, originally focused on the Roman Republic, takes it an era too far to try to model pike and shot.

Both the Battles of Bicocca and Pavia, as well as some of the fighting not included in these engines (e.g. The Battle of the Sesia) were all part of the seismic shift in the technology of warfare. The Italian War of 1521-1526 was not only a victory of  Charles’ alliance over the French, but yet another victory for the gunpowder-armed infantry over the formations of pike.