I did point out yesterday that Sherman Crabs had been horribly susceptible whereas mine flailing, didn’t I? I’m pretty certain I in all probability identified that, with a purpose to defend their comparatively susceptible essential weapons from flying particles, they reversed their turrets earlier than venturing into devil’s gardens.
(Colonel Croesus is an open-to-all game of Combat Mission: Fortress Italy wherein Allied forces are orchestrated by commenters whereas German models are pc managed. Each day by day flip covers one minute of motion. For a state of affairs define, click here)
Between Colonel Croesus’ scratch power of Allied reprobates, rugged individualists, and rum clients and several other lorry a great deal of half-inched gold bullion is an unknown variety of Axis reprobates, rugged individualists, and rum clients decided to not share/give up stated bullion. Rather inconveniently, there’s additionally a small however lethal area of Tellermine 35s. Before Crabmeat 2, one of many Comment Commanders’ two Sherman flail tanks, trundles off to take care of this hazard, it pumps a few smoke shells into the black maw of the submarine base essential entrance.
While the considering behind this security measue is sound, the execution – for which I, the GM, should take a few of the blame – isn’t good. When Crabmeat 2 begins her sod scourging, the smoke display screen continues to be a tad immature (smoke screens develop over time in CMFI), and Crabmeat 1 has but to succeed in her protecting place. For a couple of seconds earlier than smoke and dirt clouds intervene, our distracted mine molester is seen to one thing lurking within the Stygian gloom of the doorway tunnel. That one thing unleashes a cannon (?) volley that connects unerringly with the rotating turret of Nemchik’s tank. Fortunately, silver scratches and leaping sparks are the one consequence of the conjunction.
Not eager on flying shrapnel, 2nd Squad resolve to examine the dilapidated villa from the rear. What they uncover tucked behind the constructing, prompts a flurry of excited whispers. It appears to be like like one among Steiner’s two Tigers didn’t make it so far as the submarine base. Judging by the gaping engine hatch, and the instruments and oily rags scattered about, the Panzerkampfwagen VI’s Maybach V12 disgraced itself a stone’s throw the doorway. Steiner will need to have been livid.
When the clock freezes for the primary time, Squires is seconds away from mouseholing the tough stone wall at gg/hh6. Circa nn3, 1st Squad, the PIAT Team, and ‘Big Joe’ Rocca, are swapping heat woodland for cool cavern.
Wood, the sniper, is at vv12 watching, and feeling, via the rubber soles of his commando boots, the fireworks on the essential entrance. Meanwhile, peeping from the turret of his Autoblinda at uu18, Count Casari is softly buzzing a tune I imagine is from Verdi’s Attila.
