I am not sure what Patreon these 3D models are from but I picked up about ten from one of the Axes and Ales club members at one of our bring and buys last year. I now have three completed.
I plan to use these for my K47 Desert Africa Corpse
In the late 1930s the Royal Netherlands East Indies Army, began taking modest steps toward mechanising parts of its artillery. The defence of the Netherlands East Indies had long relied on a mixture of horse transport and civilian trucks, which were adequate for routine colonial duties but clearly insufficient in the face of a modern industrial power.
As tensions rose in the Pacific, the Dutch authorities recognised that artillery would need to move quickly between coastal sectors, airfields, and inland defensive lines, particularly on Java. Among the vehicles acquired for this purpose were Vickers artillery tractors, commonly known as Dragons.
The Dragons were not purchased in large numbers. Budget limitations, shipping constraints, and the relatively small scale of KNIL mechanisation meant that they appeared only in selected batteries. Nevertheless, they represented some of the most modern transport available to KNIL gunners.
The tracked chassis gave them better cross-country performance than wheeled trucks, especially on soft plantation ground, volcanic soil, and during the heavy rains typical of the region. They were used primarily to tow field guns, including 75 mm pieces, and to move ammunition and gun crews as a self-contained team.
By the time the Japanese offensive began in early 1942, these mechanised elements were concentrated largely on Java, where the main defensive effort was expected. The Dragons were employed in shifting artillery between threatened points and in supporting improvised defensive lines as Japanese landings expanded.
In theory, this mobility offered flexibility; in practice, it was constrained by air attack, fuel shortages, and the rapid collapse of coordinated Allied resistance. Columns moving by road were vulnerable, and frequent redeployments under pressure wore down both men and machines.
The Vickers tractor’s presence illustrates the KNIL’s late and incomplete transition toward modern warfare. They stood alongside older systems in an army that was attempting to modernise just as it was overtaken by events.
In the next few weeks I will finish of its tow a US37mm light anti-tank gun used by the KNIL.
Christopher Somerville’s Our War: How the British Commonwealth Fought the Second World War is less a conventional military history than a collective memoir of the Commonwealth at war. Rather than concentrating on grand strategy, high command, or campaign analysis, Somerville builds his narrative around the voices of the men and women who served. Drawing heavily on interviews and personal recollections, he reconstructs the war as it was experienced by soldiers, sailors, airmen and service personnel from across the Commonwealth. Australians, Canadians, New Zealanders, South Africans, Indians, Africans and Caribbean volunteers all appear in the narrative, giving the book a breadth that many Second World War histories lack. The result is a story that feels immediate and human rather than abstract. A point that I really enjoyed.
One of the book’s most valuable contributions is its emphasis on perspectives that are often marginalised in traditional accounts. Somerville gives considerable attention to the experiences of colonial troops and auxiliary personnel, including those who faced racial discrimination even while serving the imperial war effort. He also incorporates the voices of women in support and service roles, broadening the understanding of how the war was fought and sustained across the Commonwealth. These testimonies provide texture, depth, humour and boredom that sits alongside fear and grief, while pride in service is often tempered by frustration at unequal treatment or post-war neglect. In this sense the book works as a corrective to more narrowly British or European-centred narratives of the war.
The emotional tone of the book is one of its defining strengths. Because Somerville allows veterans to speak for themselves at length, the reader gains a sense of how individuals understood their own participation in the conflict and how those memories evolved over time. There is a reflective quality throughout, with many accounts looking back not only on wartime experiences but also on the social and political changes that followed. The war appears not as a single unified national story but as a shared yet uneven experience across a vast imperial system. That diversity of experience gives the book both its richness and its complexity. It is these personal looks back that make the book interesting.
At the same time, I was looking for a tightly structured operational history and this made the book less satisfying. Somerville does not attempt a comprehensive strategic analysis of Commonwealth operations, nor does he provide detailed examinations of campaigns or command decisions. Instead, the narrative moves between theatres and personal accounts in a way that reflects memory rather than chronology. Whilst the approach should be lauded it provide a very “bitsy” approach to the topic. For others this may create a vivid mosaic, but for me it felt very episodic or lacking in analytical depth. There are also occasional simplifications in the treatment of political and constitutional relationships within the Commonwealth, which I found a little frustrating, though these do not fundamentally undermine the book’s broader purpose.
Taken as a whole, Our War works best as a companion to more conventional military histories rather than a replacement for them. Although to be fair it was not trying to achieve this. Its strength lies in restoring individuality to a war often told through statistics and strategy. By foregrounding the lived experiences of Commonwealth servicemen and women, Somerville reminds the reader that the Second World War was fought not only by nations and armies but by millions of individuals whose stories rarely appear in standard accounts.
The book provides a clear and emotional view of the human side of the Commonwealth’s war. Again I picked it up for a few dollars, but I would definitely not buy it at full price.
Today I am heading off on a 10 day holiday to Thailand but I have organised ahead of time to have my daily posts scheduled.
I’m a book-devouring monster with a paintbrush that gets jealous of my reading time, so you can expect plenty of book reviews. But fear not! I’ve managed to sneak in some artsy shenanigans to shake things up a bit as well. Who knows, maybe I’ll even throw in a “line or three” from my time in Thailand, because who doesn’t want to be made jealous by me flouting the good time I am having on vacation?
The above picture with two Marmon Herrington’s on patrol in Batavia is from after the war.
A few Marmon-Herrington wheeled armoured cars arrived in the Dutch East Indies just before the war in 1942. They were used by the KNIL, which had been planning to modernize for years but only started when it was too late.
These were basic 4×4 armoured cars made from commercial truck parts, lightly armoured and equipped with machine guns. They were intended for patrol and road control, not direct combat.
In the Indies they were a sign of hurried modernisation. Crews were trained quickly and often learned on the job. Maintenance arrangements were thin and spare parts uncertain.
On paper they gave the KNIL a mobile, protected element that could move fast along the road networks of Java and Sumatra. In practice they were used wherever something with wheels and a gun was needed, escorting columns, watching airfields, or acting as a mobile reserve when Japanese landings began.
Once the fighting started, the cars were committed in small groups rather than as formed armoured units. They worked best on sealed or plantation roads where their speed counted. Against lightly armed infantry they could be effective, using mobility and machine-gun fire to keep pressure on advancing troops.
But they had very little protection against proper anti-tank fire or even determined close assault. In jungle country they were tied to roads, and roads were exactly where ambushes waited.
Their presence still mattered. For many KNIL infantry units they were the only visible sign of modern armour on their side. Even a couple of armoured cars could steady a position or help cover a withdrawal.
Once Japanese forces gained control of the air and pushed inland in strength, the cars became increasingly exposed. Fuel shortages, mechanical strain, and the general collapse of the defensive line meant most were eventually abandoned, knocked out, or captured during the Java fighting.
They never existed in large enough numbers to change anything. Like much of the KNIL’s late-war equipment, they arrived just in time to be used hard and lost quickly. What they show more than anything is how the Dutch tried to modernise under pressure — and how little time they had left to make it count.
I am not sure where this model came from but I think it is from Warlord games.
David Cameron is my favourite author on Australian Military history and this book doesn’t disappoint.
David Cameron’s The Charge: The Battle of Beersheba 1917 is a clear and engaging account of Australia’s famous military action: the charge of the Australian Light Horse during World War I. Cameron writes with careful research and storytelling skill, creating a book that combines academic detail with interesting prose. This makes it appealing to both scholars and general readers interested in military history.
The book looks at the Third Battle of Gaza and the British Empire’s fight against Ottoman forces in Palestine. Cameron connects the Beersheba operation to this broader context, showing how water, logistics, and movement influenced the choices of commanders on both sides. This perspective makes sure that the well-known charge is seen not just as a heroic act but as a planned military move in a complicated campaign.
One of the strengths of the book is its use of primary sources. Cameron relies on war diaries, letters, and official reports from Australian, British, and Ottoman viewpoints. These sources help him detail events and share the experiences of individual troopers along with higher-level command decisions. The soldiers’ voices—often funny and sometimes serious—add authenticity and emotional depth to the narrative.
Cameron is particularly effective in explaining the operational planning behind the charge. He demonstrates that the assault on Beersheba was not a reckless cavalry action but a carefully coordinated effort involving infantry, artillery, and mounted troops. By highlighting reconnaissance failures, communication challenges, and the pressures of time and water supply, he shows how the decision to launch the charge emerged from practical necessity rather than romantic impulse.
The charge is described clearly without being overly sentimental. Cameron recognizes the bravery and discipline of the Light Horse regiments without creating myths. His portrayal of the advance across open ground under fire captures both the speed and chaos of the event. He also fairly represents the Ottoman defenders, showing them as strong and resolute rather than just obstacles to Australian victory.
Another important aspect of the book is its focus on memory and remembrance. Cameron looks at how the charge at Beersheba is remembered in Australia’s national identity and how its story has changed over time. He challenges some common misunderstandings while highlighting the true importance of the event. This discussion provides a thoughtful perspective, linking the past and present in significant ways.
From a scholarly view, the book includes helpful maps, photos, and a good bibliography. Cameron’s research is clear, but he doesn’t burden the reader with too many technical details. His writing is straightforward and easy to understand, making complicated topics clear without losing accuracy.
For those interested in Australian military history, especially the Light Horse’s role in the Middle East, The Charge is a must-read. It offers a clear account of the Battle of Beersheba and examines how military events turn into national legends. Cameron effectively shows that the charge was influenced by planning, circumstances, and human choices, rather than just being a straightforward story of heroism.
In summary, David Cameron’s The Charge stands as one of the most authoritative and engaging studies of the Beersheba action. It combines meticulous research with compelling narrative, offering a balanced and insightful examination of a defining moment in Australian military history.
A must read if you are interested in Australian Military history.
When I was researching the Marmon-Herrington CTLS light tanks for the Dutch East Indies I found that a convoy of them was on the way to Java when the Islands fell to the Japanese. These were diverted to Australia for use by the AIF.
Their arrival coincided with a period of acute anxiety following the fall of Singapore and the rapid Japanese movement south through Southeast Asia. At that stage Australia possessed only a small and unevenly equipped armoured force, and even lightly armed vehicles were considered useful for local defence.
In Australian service the CTLS was not regarded as a battle tank but as an interim measure. The vehicles were issued primarily for home defence, training, and the protection of vulnerable installations such as airfields and supply depots. Their machine-gun armament and mobility made them suitable as mobile defensive positions against the threat of raids or small-scale landings. For militia units and airfield defence detachments with little prior experience of armoured vehicles, they also provided a valuable opportunity for familiarisation with tracked equipment and basic armoured tactics. At a time when invasion seemed a genuine possibility, their presence carried as much psychological value as practical utility.
The limitations of the type were soon apparent. Armour protection was light, armament was confined to machine guns, and the two-man crew was heavily burdened, with the commander responsible for gunnery and communications as well as command. Mechanical reliability and spare parts supply presented additional difficulties. As more capable British and American tanks entered Australian service from late 1942 onwards, the CTLS was steadily withdrawn from any operational role and relegated to training and secondary duties. Its period of service was brief and largely uneventful, but it illustrates the improvisation and uncertainty that characterised Australian defence preparations during the early stages of the Pacific War.
As they were used by the RAAF I thought why not create a Bolt Action scenario that, although fictional, was quite plausible. Her is the result.
STOP THE RAID
Horn Island Airstrip, Torres Strait, Queensland, 1942
Bolt Action 3rd Edition Scenario
Players: 2 Forces: ~1,000 pts per side Table: 6′ x 4′ Game Length: 6 turns + Turn 7 (4+) + Turn 8 (6)
BACKGROUND
After Rabaul fell and Japan quickly advanced into New Guinea, the Torres Strait became an important route to Australia. Horn Island, which helped with reconnaissance, transport, and fighter operations, became a key airfield connecting Australia and New Guinea.
Throughout 1942, the island was bombed often, and people feared invasion. Defenses were made up quickly and were often unfinished, relying mostly on militia, RAAF airfield defense personnel, and ground crews with support from signals and logistics teams.
With modern armor unavailable, three outdated Marmon-Herrington CTLS light tanks — redirected from orders for the Dutch East Indies — were sent north for emergency airfield defense. Their purpose was not to stop an invasion completely but to slow down and disrupt any attacking force to protect the airstrip and its fuel supplies from the enemy.
Before dawn, landing craft approach the northern shore.
TABLE LAYOUT
6′ x 4′ table
Northern table edge: coastal landing zone Remaining edges: scrub and interior island terrain
Central coral runway
Aircraft revetments
Fuel dump (south of runway)
Militia & RAAF camp
Small island settlement
Vehicle park/workshop
Scrub and palm cover
Perimeter pits/wire near runway
Map Courtesy of Chatgpt.
AUSTRALIAN FORCES
Militia and RAAF reinforced platoon.
Must include
Militia Platoon Commander (Regular)
2 Militia Sections (Regular)
RAAF Airfield Defence Section (Veteran)
RAAF Ground Crew Section (Inexperienced)
Boys ATR team
Optional Vickers MMG
Optional Light mortar
Optional Bren carrier
Armour 3 × Regular Marmon-Herrington CTLS
Armour 7+ Hull + turret MMG No HE or AT capability
Special rules Thin armour: +1 penetration vs CTLS Cramped crew: −1 to hit if 2+ pins Improvised doctrine: −1 to order if greater than 12″ from officer
Restrictions: No heavy artillery or heavy tanks.
JAPANESE Advance raiding detachment.
Must include
Lieutenant (Regular or Veteran)
Minimum 3 infantry squads
1 engineer or assault squad with demolition capability
At least 1 anti-tank asset
May include
Sniper
Light mortar
Transport
Optional light tankette (unreliable)
Tankette special rule — Unreliable If failed order test → Down instead If first hit received → must reverse next turn
Restrictions: No medium/heavy tanks No artillery observer
DEPLOYMENT
Australians deploy first within 24″ of runway. One unit may begin hidden in prepared positions. One CTLS may start in reserve.
Japanese deploy second and take first turn. Enter from northern coastal edge or split flanking entry.
Enemy commander destroyed — 1 VP Hold runway centre — 1 VP Enemy below half strength — 1 VP Exit one unit off enemy edge — 1 VP
SPECIAL RULES
Dawn Attack Turns 1–2 visibility limited to 30″.
Prepared Defences Allied units within 12″ of runway may begin on Ambush or Down.
Fuel Explosion When destroyed, fuel dump causes D6 hits within 6″ and creates heavy smoke for remainder of game.
Improvised Garrison If Australian officer is killed, all Australian units suffer −1 order tests for remainder of battle.
VICTORY
Major Victory: 3+ VP difference Minor Victory: 1–2 VP difference Draw: Equal VP
DESIGNER’S NOTE
Horn Island was one of Australia’s most exposed forward airfields in 1942. Its defence relied on militia, RAAF personnel, and whatever equipment could be rushed north. TheMarmon-Herrington tanks represent improvised reinforcement rather than a coherent armoured force.
The Japanese player must strike quickly to destroy fuel and disable the runway before the defence stabilises. The Australian player must preserve key installations and maintain a viable defensive perimeter. Victory depends on achieving critical objectives under pressure rather than annihilating the enemy.
On Bolt Action terms these tanks are quite vulnerable, however in low points games of 1000pts or 750pts, they are generally not facing large tanks and the number that you can take at low points make up for any deficits.
You can always run at least three even at 750pts and I plan to run at least five points. You need to make sure you have other anti-tank options as these are only anti-infantry weapons – but with three MMG’s they are excellent at that task.
The two tanks thus far.
The last of my CTLS tomorrow, at least until the other two arrive from MarDav in the mail.
The Marmon-Herrington CTLS light tanks supplied to the Netherlands East Indies were part of a late and urgent effort to strengthen the colony’s defences as war with Japan loomed. Ordered from the United States after the fall of the Netherlands in 1940, the vehicles were intended to provide the KNIL (Royal Netherlands East Indies Army) with a modern, mobile armoured element capable of supporting local defence and countering landings.
Deliveries began only in the final months of 1941 and continued into early 1942, by which time Japanese forces were already advancing rapidly through Southeast Asia. Many tanks arrived too late, and crews often received only limited training before being committed to local defence or dispersed among key installations on Java and other islands.
In service the CTLS proved lightly armed and thinly protected, mounting only machine guns and operated by a two-man crew. While mechanically straightforward and reasonably mobile on roads and firm ground, the tanks were not well suited to the terrain or the intensity of the campaign that followed.
They were employed in small numbers in defensive actions on Java and in attempts to bolster local resistance, but they could not match Japanese tanks or anti-tank weapons and were frequently used instead as mobile strongpoints or for internal security tasks. As Japanese forces overran the Netherlands East Indies in early 1942, many CTLS tanks were destroyed, abandoned, or captured, bringing their brief operational service in Dutch hands to an abrupt end.