Early Medieval (up to 1400) at Warfare 2024
Swiss vs Medieval Spanish
Game 1 Swiss vs Medieval Scots
Game 2 Swiss vs Medieval Spanish
Game 5 Swiss vs Medieval German
With a solid win under the Swiss belt, Game 2 would see the mountainous army of Zurich and Zug come to an early face to face with the Yorkshire Reconquista in the shape of the Medieval Spanish under the command of the near-legendary Paul Dawson
With a Swiss bank account-draining coffee and muffin purchased and consumed from the helpful vendors in the Farnborough Expo Centre venue, the Swiss were now fully chocolated up and raring to give themselves another runout against the creme of Catalunia in the second round matchup
Medieval Spanish is a great army, with lots of everything tasty to choose from as well as some unusual and relatively rare options.
The magic game-changing tool in chief usually comes in the shape of some Almughavars, rough terrain troops par excellence in a period where there are often very few opponents who can even come close to contesting terrain with anything other than archers and crossbowmen. The Spanish can also have top notch Knights, best-in-class Light Horsemen, solid spearmen and pikes and clouds of light troops as well to make them hard to get hold of if things start to go wrong.
The lists for the Swiss and Medieval Spanish from this game, as well as all the other lists from the games at Warfare can be seen here in the L'Art de la Guerre Wiki.
The battlefield was dominated by a large patch of uneven ground that had fallen slap bang in the centre - a magnet to which I was sure the Spanish Almughavars would inevitably be attracted in an obvious attempt to split the notoriously terrain-phobic Swiss Pikemen in two
This was therefore an obvious problem that would need to be dealt with - and one to which the Swiss only had one solution, a robust application of Polearm-armed halberdiers and a dose of Swiss prayers!
Swiss Pikemen
The Spanish had also managed to get the drop on the Swiss, moving first to throw forward a cloud of skirmishers of various flavours and types, all of which the Swiss treated with disdain as their line of co-joined Kiels began to sweep across the battlefield with all of the tedious inevitability of a banker approving a loan, unhurried yet utterly final in their resolve and clarity of approach.
Little-known Facts about Swiss Pikemen
The captain of one well-known Swiss pike Block has a huge European Brown bear rug at home.
It's not dead. It's just afraid to move
As expected and anticipated the Almughavars were indeed racing down the centre of the table to try and force a path through the rough terrain and create two internal indefensible flanks for the line of Swiss Pikemen.
With the precision of a chocolatier crafting a flawless truffle, the Swiss halberdiers from two separate commands started to coalesce in the path of the Almughavars, moulding themselves into a solid line of chocolately goodness supported on both sides by immediately adjacent pike Kiels
This scenario was fast turning into a potential masterpiece of destruction for both armies - the "impact" of the Almughavars offset by the unassailable overlaps created by the well organised Swiss, and the "elite" status of the Catalans balanced out both by the "extra damage potential" of the halberdiers, and also the buttock-baring rudeness of the single Elite, Commander-included halberdier unit in the centre of the Swiss line!
Out on the wide open right flank of the Swiss army their Kiels were thinning out to deal with the swirling specks of Spanish Jinetes, horsemen committed to irritate but not prepared to stand against the might of a wall of pike points in any way shape or form.
As they advanced, their synchronized steps sounded like the steady chime of a hundred cuckoo clocks announcing doom at the hour, the Swiss repeatedly charged and drove off the Spanish irritants, casting them back to whence they had come at quite some speed.
In the centre things were about to get either very serious, or very silly very quickly - and the Swiss are not really a nation known for their sense of humour.
This would be a contest of width vs impetus, the initial charge vs the cut and thrust of prolonged combat, and most of all, of Emmental vs Manchego.
The Catalans were committed to attacking, despite the Swiss pikemen having now pushed well past their flanks to seek to engage the Spanish Knights. All that we were both waiting for was the charge, and (of course) the die rolls.
What are the chances of that eh?
There's a number of different combats about to break out here, so lets look at a couple of them.
First up, starting on the left of the shot, the Swiss Halberdiers are supported on their left flank by some of their own crossbow infantry, and because of the presence of a Pike Kiel the Almughavars can't sweep the overlap away when they charge in. This will make the left hand combat into a 2-2 initial matchup, with the Swiss Halberdiers on +1 (basic factor) +1 (overlap) = 2, and the Almughavars also on +1 (basic factor) + 1 (1st round "Impact" ability) = 2.
The Almughavars extra bonus is that they are Elite, so any poor die rolls are mitigated, whereas the Halberdiers Polearm ability means they add +1 to potentially do extra damage if they win the combat. The outcome of all of this is as follows:
In this first round melee, the Almughavars should win more often (50% of the time vs 33%), and will inflict an average of 0.83 hits per combat roll vs the 0.56 hits inflicted by the Halberdiers.
The Swiss Commander is next in line, in another "equal factors" combat as his +1 for being a Commander offsets the Almughavars +1 for Impact. Unlike his fellow halberdier though, the unit he is included in is also Elite. The difference this makes is as follows:
The Elite characteristic of the Swiss Commanders unit makes a dramatic difference to this otherwise identical initial factors combat, with both sides now having an equal (38%) chance of winning. The extra damage inflicted by the Halberdier in this scenario then tips the balance of probable hits towards the Swiss Commander, with him expecting to dish out 0.64 hits per combat, compared to a dramatic reduction down to 0.47 for the Almughavars.
In essence, the Commander really does need to do the business for this series of combats to go the way of the Swiss!
The Catalan mountain men charged home - at last (I mean, even I am starting to struggle to string out the anticipation any more) - into the waiting arms and halberds of the Swiss, as the Swiss commander bared his buttocks in disdain at the idea of fighting against men who would be happy to eat the rubbery nonsense of a plate of fried calamari as a starter for practically every meal of the day. This would be it, yaddah yaddah - actually, lets just hurry up and see what happens shall we?
Little-known Facts about Swiss Pikemen
Swiss Pikemen do not sleep.
They wait.
Wowser - could that be any more dramatic?
The buttock-bearing Swiss Commander (a casting from a Peter Pig Renaissance range for which the moulds and rights have subsequently been sold. Unfortunately the purchaser never managed to get round to putting them back into production, so you can't buy your own mooner I'm afraid), instantly destroyed his opponent, but at the same time both of his wingmen suffered reverses at the hands of the angry Almughavars
Far from delivering a decisive result for either side, this left things still in the balance - but a balance which the Swiss could justifiably feel they were in with the best chance of tipping in their own favour in the next round of melees
L'Art de la Guerre hint - A couple of interesting rules-ey things have happened here. First up, you can see the Light Infantry who were stood behind the now-dead Almughavar have both taken a hit as a result of his destruction - so far so normal, given I've flagged that up in the previous game, although it is worth noting that by the LF being not aligned against the back of the Almughavars this single destruction has caused 2 further "hits", one on each of the two LF units.
A little more interestingly is that on the right of the picture you can just about see a Swiss LF Handgunner who has elected to stand and receive the Almughavars charge.
LF can only ever stand against proper troops when in terrain, as normally they have to evade, and in so doing he has in effect broken up the block of 4 Almughavars, denying they an overlap against the halberdier on the right of the Swiss line.
As LF against proper battle infantry his odds of long-term survival are not great, but putting him at risk in this way helps even up the "real" battle here, which is between the Almughvars and the Swiss halberdiers - so the theory is this is a sacrifice, or perhaps just a risk worth taking
With the Almughavars now bogged down in a war of attrition against the Swiss halberdiers in the centre, time has been bought for the pikemen to storm ahead and engage their natural prey, the Spanish Knights, their pikes gleaming like freshly polished Swiss army knives under a mountain sun as they rush forward to combat.
Little-known Facts about Swiss Pikemen
If paper beats rock, rock beats scissors, and scissors beats paper, what beats all 3 at the same time?
A Swiss Pike Block.
The combat in the centre was starting to get as messy as a spilt fondue as both sides jostled for position and advantage against the backdrop of some inevitably Rafa-esque terrain in the middle of the battlefield.
Both forces were now a unit down, but at the centre of the maelstrom the buttock-baring Swiss commander and his comrades were still holding fast and repulsing (in every sense of the word) all opposition
More significantly, the heavyweight force of the Swiss pikemen was now arriving in some numbers on either side, committing the main bodies of Spanish battle troops on either flank into a series of fights they surely were dreading?
And that dread was well deserved - the main block of Swiss pikemen had by now both engaged and then despatched the wilted flower of Spanish nobility in frontal battle.
As the Kiels moved inexorably forward into the spaces their own pike points had created, it was as though a Swiss train—never late, always unstoppable—had been unleashed upon the battlefield to simply run straight over the hapless Spanish knights
The Swiss
Suddenly, perhaps inspired by the ruthless efficacy of their close formation brothers in arms, the halberdiers enacted their own defeat on the Almughavars as well
The rest of the Spanish army could do little but look on in horror as the buttock-baring halberdiers rolled forward like a wheel of Emmental cheese, unstoppable despite their countless (OK, singular) (a)holes
The main body of pikemen had by now overwhelmed the Spanish knights such a long time ago that they had found time to wheel out of their close-packed formation and start to swing around to crush the remnants in a well-engineered Swiss precision vice formed of a million pike points.
The Swiss pikemen closed in on victory, advancing as though fuelled by the pure energy of melted cheese and Alpine air, an unstoppable force of both fromagery and military excellence
Little-known Facts about Swiss Pikemen
The dark is afraid of a Swiss Pike Block.
In the ongoing mess that was the table centre point, the Almughavars were facing the utter shame of having to call upon lowly crossbowmen (and injured ones a that) to try and rescue their blushes against the still-mooning Swiss halberd leadership team.
Throwing an injured Crossbowman into combat against an Elite included Commander MF halberdier, even with the arse-master carrying a hit himself, was not exactly a ringing vote of supreme confidence in the fighting abilities of the Catalan mountain men, but needs must when almost all of the rest of the command is no longer on table I guess.
And Lo, behold - the battered crossbowmen were batter than the Almughavars against this particular bottom-exposer, taking another hit from him to leave everyone in this whole melee perilously close to destruction
Elsewhere on table the main body of the Swiss pike phalanx mopped up the last few dregs of enemy Knights to move the army of the 13 Cantons ever nearer to a now-inevitable victory
Battle of Morgaten
The main challenge now for the Swiss was finding enemy who were prepared to stand and fight as they closed in on the rather anachronistic-ish Spanish baggage from both sides
Like a clockwork mechanism sprung to life, the Swiss formations ticked forward and came together, each pikeman a cog in the inexorable machinery of doom, trapping the remaining few Spanish Knights in a vice of ingenious yet also totally unsubtle design
Little-known Facts about Swiss Pikemen
Even though Switzerland is famous for it's timepieces, Swiss Pikemen do not wear watches.
They decide what time it is.
Finally, fittingly perhaps, the last act of this battle was to be written in the centre, by the bare faced cheek of the Swiss halberdier commander as he finished off the enemy crossbowmen, and with that loud and devastating burst of combative flatulence, condemned the Iberian army to defeat
As the Swiss concluded their victory, the wind carried the scent of Alpine flowers and enemy despair across the tabletop, mingling their perfume of martial inevitability with the aromas which inevitably emanate from a pair of victorious buttocks powered by a lifetime of dairy products yet also long-imprisoned in little-washed lederhosen.
The Result is another crushing Swiss victory!
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 Swiss Commander
My indomitable comrades, once again, the field is ours! The banners of Spain, so flamboyant and proud, now lie in tatters, trampled beneath the feet of our victorious pikemen. Let the plains of Aragon and Castile echo with the lamentations of those who dared challenge the sons of Switzerland!
Our foes were many and colourful, their armor gleaming, their swords flashing—but what good is flair without discipline? What value is a boastful cry without the grit to back it? They charged at us with their famed Almughavars, fierce warriors of the Catalonian hills, thinking they could outwit us by seizing the rough terrain. But they underestimated the ingenuity of Swiss steel and the fortitude of Swiss cheese!
To our gallant halberdiers, led by the daring officer whose unconventional battle cry inspired us all, you have once again proven that no terrain is too treacherous, no foe too fierce. With cheek and courage, you not only held the ground but turned it into a fortress of Swiss pride! Truly, the sight of moonlit Swiss valour was more than the Almughavars could bear!
And what of their so-called Spanish cheeses? Bland, timid imitations of dairy artistry! They dare to bring Manchego against the mighty Emmental? To pit their soft Queso Tetilla against the robust Sbrinz? Our cheese does not merely sustain us—it emboldens us! A wedge of Gruyère is worth a thousand Spanish wheels!
Let us also reflect on the differences between our nations. We Swiss thrive on precision and order. Our pikes advance as one, like the synchronized ticking of our famous cuckoo clocks. Our halberdiers move with the efficiency of our trains, which, as you well know, always run on time—even in the thick of battle. The Spanish? Their army staggered and stumbled with the lethargy of a 'mañana' mindset, their disorganized ranks more fitting for a siesta than a battlefield.
Once again, my brave soldiers, you have proven that the might of Switzerland is more than just pikes and halberds. It is a unity of purpose, an unshakable spirit, and, of course, the undeniable superiority of our dairy traditions. Let the Spanish retreat to their plains, licking their wounds and nursing their inferior cheeses, while we celebrate another glorious triumph!
Raise your weapons, my friends, and let the world hear our cry: Long live Switzerland! Long live the Pikemen! And long live Swiss cheese!
Hannibal's Post Match Analysis
Oh, fie and thrice fie upon thee, thou Swiss mountebank of martial mediocrity! Thy latest exploit, as told by thy own gilded tongue, is a tale of shame writ large upon the canvas of war. Let us peel back the gilded varnish of thy boasting, that we might lay bare the sour cheese beneath.
Thou dost claim triumph against the Spanish, those fiery sons of Iberia, yet thy means, oh ignoble goat-herder of Helvetia, doth offend even the basest sensibilities of Mars himself! What devilry is this, that thy victory's fulcrum should be the pallid cheeks of some oafish officer's hindquarters? Yea, a Swiss moon hath eclipsed the sun of Spain’s courage! Dost thou call this strategy? Nay, it is but buffoonery, a fart-jest writ large upon the battlefield!
To think, thou wouldst shock the Almughavars—those sinewy Catalans, born of blood and bramble—by means of thy officer’s unlaundered derriere. Were I to have trained my elephants in such vile tricks, mayhap Rome itself would have fled the field, their togas whipped over their heads in dismay! But I, Hannibal Barca, would sooner drown in the wine-dark seas than stoop to such vulgarity. No, my beasts were born to strike awe, not disgust; to trumpet terror, not wind.
And as for thy tactics, they are as stale as the crusts of last week’s bread! Again thou dost advance in thy wall of pikes, a formation as unimaginative as it is effective. Forward, forward, always forward! Thou art as a glacier—slow, ponderous, and incapable of deviation. Thy troops bear spears as tall as mountains, yet their minds are as shallow as puddles. Where is thy feint, thy ruse, thy cunning? Dost thou even know the meaning of "flanking," or art thou content to batter thine enemies into submission like a cow kicking down a milk bucket?
Thy victories reek of simplicity and brutish force, and now they bear the stench of thy officer's unseemly hindquarters as well. Is this the legacy thou dost wish to leave? A land of cheese and pikemen, with naught but crude gestures to commend thy name to history? Oh, how the bards shall sing of thee:
"Behold the Swiss, who marched with pikes,
And won their wars with buttock strikes!"
Thou art an affront to the art of war, a blight upon the annals of strategy. Return to thy mountains, thou whey-brained dolt, and leave true warfare to those who understand its majesty. I, Hannibal, shall watch from Elysium, knowing that though I was defeated, I was never so crass, so dull, nor so utterly devoid of style.
Now begone, thou Alpine jest, and take thy shameful triumph with thee to the next game. My elephants grow restless, and they may yet surpass thee in dignity even were they to employ thine unseemly tactics !
Click here for the report of the next game in this competition
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Game 1 Swiss vs Medieval Scots
Game 2 Swiss vs Medieval Spanish
Game 5 Swiss vs Medieval German
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