The village of El-Haddara, having only recently recovered from its brief but energetic experience as a centre of imperial enthusiasm, found itself once again at the heart of events it had absolutely no desire to host.

Egyptian cavalry ordered to slow down the British advance get shot to pieces.

Following the unfortunate court martial of Sir Reginald Farquhar, whose command style was later described as “remarkably consistent, if not especially useful,” the British Army resolved to take a more hands-on approach to village management. Sir Reginald, last seen attempting to explain that remaining stationary was in fact a bold strategic doctrine, was quietly removed from proceedings and encouraged to pursue other interests, preferably elsewhere.

The British advance with an second Egyptian cavalry unit receiving the same fate as the first.

Into his place came a new officer—decisive, energetic, and deeply committed to the radical notion that units might occasionally move, and preferably in the direction of the enemy. Under this refreshed leadership, the British advanced on El-Haddara with great purpose, a clear plan, and only the faintest understanding of the ground they were advancing across.

The Egyptians, now in possession of the village and very much enjoying the novelty of being indoors, had taken up defensive positions in buildings, behind walls, and in any location that suggested a strong preference for not being shot at. They regarded the approaching British with a mixture of determination and mild irritation, having only just finished settling in.

The British assault unfolded with all the confidence of men who had recently replaced their commander. Lines were dressed, orders were issued, and several units advanced heroically in approximately the correct direction. Progress was steady, if occasionally interpretive, as officers attempted to align enthusiasm with geography.

Within the village, the Egyptians prepared to defend every alley, courtyard, and doorway, particularly those that offered shade. Shots rang out, dust rose into the air, and the buildings of El-Haddara once again found themselves participating in events far beyond their original design brief.

The Egyptians firmly ensconced in the village.

The villagers, for their part, adopted their now well-practised strategy of cautious observation mixed with quiet despair.

Unfortunately, news of Sir Reginald’s departure, and the British return, spread rather quickly across the desert. An Egyptian force, having previously been obliged to vacate the premises under somewhat hurried circumstances, has now returned with renewed determination, a clearer plan, and a distinct lack of interest in leaving again.

Egyptian cavalry dispersed

A second Egyptian cavalry take to the hills, or rather, sand dunes.

Depleted British infantry reach a building and have started to set fire to it.

Their objective is straightforward: retake the village, restore their honour, and ideally do so before the British can set fire to anything else of importance.

Egyptian infantry scampering from the village.

Thus, El-Haddara once again prepares itself for battle. The well remains in its usual place, the goats continue their administrative duties, and the buildings—those that survived—stand nervously awaiting their fate.

The British advance on El-Haddara

A long range shot halted the British which probably decided the game.

One building successfully on fire. One more should result in a British victory.

With two units trying to set fire to the second building will the British secure victory?

The sole surviving Egyptian unit.

Only three more fire points to achieve victory!

With all but one of the Egyptian units making a dramatic exit from the field, it looked like victory had already booked its one-way ticket back to the British camp, probably with a cocktail in hand, sand in its shoes, and an exaggerated story to tell. But hold your horses this plot twist wasn’t finished just yet!

In a hilarious twist of fate, the Egyptians turned accounting into an art form, racking up a whopping 2 victory points for each of the two buildings that stubbornly refused to take a dip in the flames, while the British forces, who were more like rare collectibles at this point, scored exactly zero for being blown to bits, largely because there just weren’t enough of them left to even lie down dramatically. Meanwhile, the British discovered that heroically chasing the enemy off the table was worth as much as a soggy biscuit in a rainstorm. Not a single point. Not even a friendly nod! Their only crumb of comfort was a paltry three points for lighting one building on fire, which, though it dazzled the eye, turned out to be about as useful as a chocolate teapot in terms of strategy.

Thus, in one of those classic wargaming escapades that only the dice gods can conjure, the Egyptians pulled off a spectacular tactical defeat, because let’s be honest, bolting in an orderly fashion is still just bolting, yet, somehow, against all odds, managed to snag a strategic victory by the skin of their teeth. One can just picture their commanders later giving elaborate speeches, insisting that everything went precisely according to plan, as long as you conveniently overlook the chaos that actually unfolded.

And somewhere in the distance, one suspects, Sir Reginald is still standing exactly where he was told to remain

MWWBK’s always gives a great game.