Eastern Armies at Devizes 2024
Ilkhanid Mongol vs Burmese
Game 1 Ilkhanid Mongol vs Samurai
Game 2 Ilkhanid Mongol vs Ghaznavid
Game 3 Ilkhanid Mongol vs Burmese
Game 4 Ilkhanid Mongol vs Timurid
Following a surprisingly coherent and civilized night in a hostelry in Melksham (who knew..?) it was time to take on the Elephant-tastic Burmese in the Sunday morning ritual game against Ian Speed in all of his toe-painting excellence
Burmese is going to be elephants, and a load of impact and non-impact swordsmen foot to sit between them, making an aggressive is rather direct army to try and face down. The mix of foot and elephants means dismounting against them is a bit of a gamble to say the least, but it is worth considering.
The lists for the Ilkhanid Mongol and Burmese from this game, as well as all the other lists from the games at Devizes can be seen here in the ADLG Wiki.
As you can see here, the Burmese are nothing if not numerous, although in this case sheer numbers had been achieved at the expense of maxxing out the elephant quotient in the army.
This did give the hard-charging elements of the Ilkhano-Armenian army a good set of targets to aim for, as surprisingly perhaps there were some solid runs of troops which were not butted up against elephants at every 2nd or 3rd unit in the line
I had placed a marsh which had ended up in the middle-ish of the table (its the terrain bit with a few circles missing - sorry, they must have fallen out of the bag) which rather constrained the Burmese advance towards the rather put-upon Armenian spearmen.
With some of the best Burmese Guardsmen and accompanying elephants steaming towards them already their day seemed like it would get off to a bad start, unless the necessities of siding past the difficult going marsh caused the Burmese to lose linear coherence along the way.
A river also narrowed the table, ostensibly to Burma's advantage but in reality this had allowed the Ilkhanid Micro Command to start on table for once, and scoot some of its light horse down the opposite side of the river where they found themselves unopposed by Burmese troops.
The Armenian Commander had already decided to largely leave his spearmen to be trampled underfoot and was instead looking for easy, elephant-free pickings in the alley way between the river and the marsh as well.
On the opposite, far more open flank the Burmese had - shock horror - their own cavalry, who immediately realised they were badly outmatched by the Ilkhanid kitchen-sink tooled up horsemen facing them.
Having said that, the Burmese horsemen could perhaps rely on elephants and archers drifting outwards to support them, evening up the odds considerably in the process
As the near-solid line of Burmese soldiery and elephants advanced, they started to inch past the end of the marsh.
In so doing they found themselves rather forced to give up a possible flank to the waiting Armenians, as the Burmese commander was unable to order his men to rush through the difficult terrain at the same time as keeping the entire main part of his line together
On the far right the Burmese army had run of troops before the table ran out of, erm, tabletop.
Smelling a small but important opportunity the Ilkhanid cavalry steamed forward, hooves thundering as the cavalrymen rode like demons unleashed, their horses panting beneath the weight of men whose bowels were as unrelenting as their swords, creating a battlefield as malodorous as it was deadly.
They were now screening the main bulk of the Burmese line with light horse while jamming their best quality Khans Guard Heavy Cavalry into the faces (and nostrils) of Burma's own horsemen!
This would have been a much better tactic if the Ilkhanids were far more numerous on the Heavy cavalry front, but even so they should have the edge against the Burmese cavalry, potentially opening up the end of the line of infantry archers and elephants to devastating cavalry attacks.
The cavalry who probably should have been helping on the opposite flank were however dicking around down by the river in a rather confined space
Light horse had already raced almost to the table edge and were now poised to return across the river, as top notch cavalry waited patiently, shooting up their Burmese opponents whilst waiting for the Armenian commander to sort his nonsense out and loan them a unit of Knights to make sure the eventual attack was swift and decisive.
The colourful Burmese were now closing in on the colourful Armenians in the centre at some speed, potentially rendering all of this clever flank fighting malarkey utterly irrelevant
The challenges presented by the marsh had given the Armenians the advantage of width, but the top rated Burmese strike troops were pretty confident they had a monopoly on the quality side of wargaming at this upcoming melee.
The Burmese were now in full falling-back mode down by the river, as the Ilkhanids drove forwards towards them, shooting furiously but to relatively little effect as they advanced.
Suddenly battle broke out almost everywhere, as the by now disjointed Burmese, constricted by terrain and unable to properly control all of the different elements of their complex and eclectic army, hurled themselves haphazardly into the waiting Ilkhano-Armenian horde.
This firework display of incoherent aggression in turn opened up a host of opportunities for the Ilkhanids, with the overstretched Burmese gifting more than a smattering of flanks in their wild attack.
Burmese Elephants
On the far side the Mongol cavalry had driven off the Burmese horsemen as the scent of steel mingled with something far less noble as the Mongol warriors closed in rapidly on an enemy who only just avoided being caught in the rear in their desperate flight from the Khan's Guard's charge.
This now opened up the end of the Burmese line to yet more attacks from the swirling Mongol cavalry, their swords keen to carve through flesh while their breaths carved through the very air in a merciless assault on the olfactory senses of their horrified opposition.
By the river cowardice, or discretion (take your pick) was the better part of valour for the Burmese, as here they too fell back in semi-coherent fashion in the face of the Ilkhanid advance.
Putting cavalry into bad terrain is usually not a great idea, but when the only opposition are also mounted on horses the Burmese were half-confident they might well get away with it this time.
The impetus of the initial Burmese assault against the Armenians had been well and truly checked, with a hastily assembled bunch of randomly chosen troops somehow cast into their path like mouse-tipped anti-elephant caltrops to prevent the Armenians being rolled over.
With light foot absorbing the elephant charge, and mercenary knights sneaking in front of some of the Armenian infantry to take on the Burmese Mediums this was now a struggle where the Armenians had numbers and depth on their side.
The ugly shoulder created by the marsh was now really starting to hurt the Burmese, as Armenian infantry swept forward from all sides and threatened to roll up the Burmese centre.
Somehow the mercenary Knights had not as yet managed to complete the envelopment, seemingly stuck against Burma's Elite Guard units in the open, but surely this was now only a matter of time too?
Also providing surprising levels of obduracy were the Burmese troops on the open flank.
As the Ilkhanid cavalry sought to drive Burma's horsemen off the rear edge of the table the rest of the Mongol horsemen were sweeping forward with a ferocity that came hand in hand with digestive distress as the Mongol warriors hacked and slashed with blades as sharp as their unfiltered breath, each exhale a testament to the horrors of fermented dairy as they sought to overwhelm the rather static Burmese line from all sides - but the Burmese simply shrugged off these pungent assaults with South East Asian disdain
Could the well armoured, double-equipped, highly trained and superbly motivated Khans Guardsmen overcome the equally brightly coloured yet not so well armed, armoured or tooled up Burmese horsemen?
Or with the edge of oblivion now near, would they turn around and trust numbers to overcome quality in a frantic last stand?
The Armenian infantry were inexorably closing the vice on the middle of the Burmese line, inching carefully towards the last elephant from all sides.
These well clad peasant pedestrians appeared to have worked out the secret of defeating the jungle-dwellers of Ceylon, a trick which somehow continued to elude the mercenary Knights in Ilkhanid employ.
Their battle was still ongoing, much to everyone's amazement and the evident concern of the mercenary artillery crewmen only a short distance from the line of battle
The Ilkhanid riders, their knees stiff and joints creaking from a lifetime spent in the saddle, moved with a stiffness that belied their lethal accuracy, each swing accompanied by an expulsion of wind as mighty as their swords as the problem with rolling up a line of Burmese infantry with cavalry started to now become apparent - at some point the Burmese would run out of foot to run down, and you then have to take on a nugget of elephant-shaped nastiness
Seen here from above, the inexorable crush of the Ilkhanid envelopment becomes visible as both wings fight a valiant (or not too valiant) rear guard action against the encroaching Mongols & Armenians who's every swing of their swords was followed by a foul wind, not just from the air around them but from the depths of their guts, making the battlefield a place of both violence and involuntary flatulence.
But the iron-cast fury of the Burmese centre seems to be taking renewed energy from the slow demise of their wingmen - the Ceylonic Guardsmen have unhorsed half of the mercenary knight force, and yet more Burmese troopers are now sweeping away the once resilient Armenian spear line to expose the Mongols artillery park!
These Burmese troops clearly fight best when utterly surrounded and attacked from all sides!
The Mongols and Armenians kick themselves as they finally realise this, as their centre collapses under a flurry of Burmese heroics at what surely should have been the very apex point of their demise!
The Ilkhanid cavalry on the right have no such issues as they fought with the grace of warriors whose backs had fused to their saddles, their legs bowing awkwardly, but with each twist of the waist, they unleashed both deadly blows and the fragrant consequences of a diet rich in fermented milk.
Gurgling as they went, they slice along the Burmese line dismissing the token resistance of elephants and infantry with equal aplomb. Off in the distance the Burmese cavalry have clearly decided to exit the table, relying on the greater numbers of their army to carry them over the line to non-defeat
Suddenly the Ilkhanid centre is utterly removed from play!as their seemingly winning position has been swept to oblivion by the heroics of a handful of Guardsmen and a commander's elephant mount right at the very moment their doom seemed nailed on!
The Mongols have taken horrific losses in short order, the magnitude of which their much smaller army will ill be able to sustain.
Down by the riverside the Mongols make a last push to break Burmese resistance forcing their enemies to recoil not only from the force of their swords but from the palpable funk that hung around them, a lingering miasma of unwashed hair, sweat-drenched armour, and something that could only be described as…digestive rage.
Charging home they attack wherever they can, and strike with furious anger against the loincloth-clad hordes and their sub-par (to Ilkhanid eyes) horsemen, smashing the falling back troopers at the very gates of their baggage train
The effect is to push the Burmese army just over the edge to defeat - but the catastrophe in the centre has seen the Ilkhanids also take unsustainable levels of damage too. The Result is a mutual destruction!
Click here for the report of the next game in this competition, or read on for the post match summaries from the Generals involved, as well as another episode of legendary expert analysis from Hannibal
Post Match Summary from the Ilkhanid Mongol Commander
Today, we find ourselves in the heart of the jungles of Burma, amidst the echoes of battle that have left both sides weary and worn. While we have proven our mettle once again, I must admit, this victory has slipped through our fingers like sand through a grasping hand. A stalemate! A word that tastes bitter upon my tongue!
Let us take a moment to reflect on the brilliance of my strategy. I crafted a plan that should have led us to glory, but alas, it was not our own valor that faltered. No, it was the lack of resilience from our Armenian mercenaries. They stood brave at first, yet when the tide of battle surged, they wavered like reeds in the wind. This is not the tenacity we require when facing such formidable foes!
And oh, how the Burmese surprised us! Their cavalry—unexpectedly competent, I must say—charged with a skill that can only be described as unsporting! We are a people of honor, and yet they ride as if the very spirit of the jungle guides them. How dare they defy the traditions of warfare? Their prowess should have been beneath them, but they fought with a cunning that we did not anticipate!
But fear not, my brothers! We shall learn from this day. I will refine our tactics, bolster our ranks, and ensure that no enemy can take us by surprise again! We will strengthen the resolve of our mercenaries, forging them into becoming warriors worthy of our cause. So let us raise our voices, for this battle may have ended in stalemate, but our spirit remains unbroken. We will regroup, we will adapt, and we will emerge stronger than ever!
Hannibal's Post Match Analysis
Ah, the Great Khan, again! That paragon of fermented triumphs and strategic goat’s milk—whose brilliance, we are told, shines like a sun through a cloud of his army’s own digestive misfortunes! He would have us believe that this stalemate with the Kingdom of Burma was the result of his grand intellect and mastery of war
Yet, I must ask—was it brilliance, or merely the flatulence of fortune that led to this impasse? For what do we see when we strip away the Khan’s inflated boasts? A victory, nearly in his grasp, thrown away by the mismanagement of his own reeking, unwashed horde!
Let us recount the battle, shall we? The Khan, whose tactical sense is as fresh as the curds he swills, began well enough. His horsemen, despite their appalling odors—so potent that even the mighty elephants of Burma trembled, perhaps not from fear, but from the stench—swept forward with the force of a storm. But then—ah, then, the fatal error, the folly of a leader drunk on his own sour-milk hubris. He sent forth his Armenian allies, those noble infantry, to face the finest of the Burmese warriors. A bold decision, indeed, for who would dare put the Khan’s most loyal infantry to the task of holding off elephants, when their strength, it seems, is better suited to facing less…stompy foes?
Lo and behold! The Armenians, though brave, were no match for the relentless tide of Burma’s best troops. Their spears, bent beneath the weight of the elephants, their courage crumbling as surely as the Mongols’ stomachs after a feast of curdled dairy. And while the Armenians faltered, what did the Khan do? Did he exploit the advantage on the wings? Did he crush the Burmese flanks and seal his victory? Nay, my friends, for instead of seizing the moment, his horde—gaseous and sluggish from too much yak milk—could not follow up their initial success! The wings, left unattended, slipped from his grasp like butter off a hot skillet, and the victory that was so near dissolved into this pitiful stalemate.
And yet, this Khan, this self-proclaimed genius, would have us believe that the stalemate was a sign of his brilliance. Aye, he speaks of it as though it were the pinnacle of strategic achievement! But I ask you, can one truly claim brilliance when one’s best plan involves relying on allies whose strength lies not in crushing elephants but perhaps in tending sheep?
Thou foul monarch of unwashed breeches, thou fermenter of failure! Thy strategic insights are as pungent as the wind off thy army's hindquarters! Didst thou think that thy flatulent cavalry could win the day by gassing the enemy into submission? Nay, it seems they gassed only themselves, as the wings of the Burmese army slipped from thy feeble grasp! Verily, thou art a prince of putrefied dairy, whose breath could sour wine and whose tactical mind is as curdled as the goat’s milk thou dost guzzle by the gallon. The only wind that blew favourably on thee this day was the one from thy horsemen’s hindquarters, and even that availed thee not im thiss game, nor I expect shall it avail you in the next game either!
Click here for the report of the next game in this competition
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Game 1 Ilkhanid Mongol vs Samurai
Game 2 Ilkhanid Mongol vs Ghaznavid
Game 3 Ilkhanid Mongol vs Burmese
Game 4 Ilkhanid Mongol vs Timurid
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