Hi All Guru’s Christmas Gift expires Midday on 28th of December AEDT so if you haven’t downloaded it make time before it goes. Hope you had a great Christmas day.
The jolly pirate wargaming rules, “Scurvy Dogs,” will expire soon! Aye, don’t miss out—download it here before it walks the plank!
Here is the Axis K47 Special Character Heinrich Gross that I have painted with the limited palette I have at the holiday home. The cap still needs to be completed with its red and gold! I will finish this and the basing when I return home.
In Konflikt ’47, Heinrich Gross is depicted as a tough German officer shaped by the end of traditional warfare and transformed by Rift-technology. As defeat approaches, he views experimental science as the only way to survive. Cold and practical, Gross has removed ideology and honour from war, focusing solely on function. The miniature shows him at a critical point in the conflict: he is not just a Wehrmacht officer but a symbol of a regime trying to survive through fear and coercion.
What adds weight to the character is that his name and concept reflect a real historical figure, Heinrich Gross, a Nazi doctor whose crimes and avoidance of justice symbolize the moral failures of that time.
Warlord Games uses the name not literally but as a conscious choice, connecting the fictional commander to the darker aspects of twentieth-century history. This connection enhances the narrative of Konflikt ’47, where the ongoing war is seen not as heroic resistance but as a continuation of ethical decay, with science and authority completely separated from humanity.
On the tabletop, this layered narrative is reinforced through how Gross plays. He functions as a dominant command figure who enhances the effectiveness and reliability of nearby troops, reflecting iron authority rather than inspiration. Units under his influence tend to resist disruption and keep advancing even under severe pressure, mirroring a command structure driven by fear and compulsion.
He is most effective when embedded with elite infantry or shock troops, anchoring an aggressive Axis force that relies on escalation rather than manoeuvre. Gross rewards players who commit hard and early, grinding the enemy down through relentless forward pressure.
He represents the extreme mindset of the late-war Axis: fewer soldiers, more enhancements, and a commander who guarantees no retreat, no hesitation, and no moral limits as the war drags on beyond its logical conclusion.
I will use the figure and his rules as the Dessicated Fox for my Konflict 47 “Dessicated Africa Corps”.
My original “faux” Heinrich Gross”!
I went into Zero Option with some idea of what the book was about. Chris Ryan does not let the reader down. The book starts off as a paced military story where action is more important, than thinking deeply about things. I got caught up in the story straight away because it feels like things are already happening before the first chapter even gets going. People are getting orders things are not going well. It seems like the plan is already starting to fall apart. Zero Option is a thriller that moves quickly and Chris Ryan keeps the momentum going from the start. The book is really good at making you feel like you are there, with the story. This immediacy is one of the things that makes the book so strong. It kept me reading the book at a pace. I did not want to stop reading the book because of this immediacy.
As I read the book, I noticed that the real tension comes not only from Geordie Sharp’s missions but also from being caught between different groups trying to control him. His situation is complicated, with jobs to do, secret activities happening, and personal pressures from people wanting to manipulate him. I appreciated that the author, Ryan, shows how difficult these pressures are for Geordie Sharp to handle. Even when he is performing at a high level, there is an ongoing sense of strain in his decisions. This made the story feel more realistic than a typical tale about an elite soldier saving the day.
I really like how the action parts of the story are written. The author, Ryan writes them in a way that’s easy to understand. He does not use a lot of terms that would confuse the reader. Instead Ryan gives us enough information to make the fight scenes feel real. The firefights are short and intense they do not go on and on to be exciting. When the characters make mistakes they have to deal with the consequences. The action sequences, like the firefights are well done. The plans that the characters make do not always work out when they are fighting the enemy. The characters have to think on their feet and come up with plans, which feels like something that would really happen. I really liked the way the story was told because it did not make the hero sound too good to be true. The hero of the story is shown to be competent by the decisions he makes than, by doing crazy and flashy things. The narrative voice of the story is something that I found myself trusting, because it does not overstate the heroics of the hero.
What also struck me was the pacing in the middle of the novel. The book does not build up to one moment. Instead it keeps the pressure on by adding problems. When the characters achieve one thing another problem comes up. It is often a bigger problem than the one before. I never felt like the story had a moment where everything was okay. The story always kept moving. This constant movement forward really suits the theme of the novel, which’s about being trapped by things that happen to you. It is also like Sharps situation in the novel, where Sharp has no time to catch his breath. The novel is, like that too it keeps going and going with the characters facing one problem after another.
I think the book moves too quickly and doesn’t explore the story in depth. The characters, except for one, aren’t well described; they appear, do their part, and then disappear, often before you remember them. The book mentions important moments but doesn’t dwell on them. I sometimes wished the story would slow down to reflect on what happened, but Ryan keeps it moving. The book goes on without allowing you to feel the impact of events. It moves fast, which is its main characteristic. While this isn’t necessarily bad, it highlights the book’s limitations. These limits define what the book is.
By the end, I felt that Zero Option delivered on its promises. It provides tension and action while keeping things realistic and not overly complicated. I was satisfied after finishing the book. While it may not stand out among military thrillers, it effectively fulfills its role. Zero Option is a confident thriller that succeeds as a straightforward, engaging read focused on momentum, danger, and clean storytelling rather than deep psychological themes.
I picked it up at a Thrift Shop in the free bin and that is about all I would want to pay!
The region in which our Nagambie home nestles is one of Australia’s greatest wine growing areas. Just five minutes away are two of the finest in Tahbilk and Mitchelton wineries. Tahbilk is one of Australia’s oldest wineries and still has the original heritage listed buildings.
A few kilometers further is Mitchelton winery in stark contrast. An extremely modern facility with luxury accommodation, day spa, award wining restaurant, and of course Cellar Door sales! None of these were the reason for our visit, although significant attention was paid to the cellar door tasting area!
The reason for our visit was to spend some time in the Aboriginal Art Gallery – the largest in Victoria and view the message stick vehicle.
Michael Butler was an Australian journalist active during the late 1960s and 1970s whose work increasingly crossed from reporting into direct cultural and political activism. Rather than writing about Aboriginal systems of law and communication from a distance, Butler chose to demonstrate them in practice. The Message Stick Vehicle was the result.
When Michael Butler acquired the old army ambulance, he transformed it into a modern carrier of the Aboriginal message stick. Inside, it held a traditional message stick given by elders, symbolising communication, safe passage, and responsibility. The choice of a military ambulance was intentional; a vehicle once used for war and injury became a tool that upheld Aboriginal tradition, law, and connection.
As Butler drove the ambulance around Australia, the vehicle became part of the message. People who met the journey painted, signed, and marked its bodywork. Rock musicians, actors, politicians, and public figures added names and symbols to the old army panels. The once uniform khaki vehicle turned into a colorful surface of protest and recognition. Among those who signed were political leaders like prime ministers Gough Whitlam and Bob Hawke, along with influential artists such as Jack Thompson, David Gulpilil, Peter Garrett, Margaret RoadKnight, all linked to the protest culture of that era.
By the end of its journeys, the former ambulance no longer represented military order or emergency response. It had become a rolling document of witness and endorsement — a message stick on wheels. Scarred, dusty, and crowded with paint and signatures, the vehicle embodied a powerful reversal: a machine built for war redeployed to carry law, memory, and recognition across the continent.
Perhaps the most famous signature.
Galarrwuy Yunupingu activist, lead singer and artist.
Holidays are the ultimate excuse to sprawl out on the balcony, pretending to be an intellectual while I tackle all those books I’ve been meaning to read but somehow never got around to—sipping chardonnay like I’m at a fancy gala, all while keeping an eye on yachts and canoes gliding by on the lake—pure bliss, that is, until the crowds come rolling in like a surprise sequel to a movie I didn’t even want to watch!
“Red One: A Bomb Disposal Expert on the Front Line” is a gripping and often disturbing look at modern warfare from a vulnerable viewpoint. Written by Kevin Ives, it shares his experiences as a British Army bomb disposal expert in Afghanistan, where the main threat comes from improvised explosive devices rather than conventional weapons. The story emphasizes careful, slow actions and constant risk assessment, highlighting that one mistake can lead to disaster.
What gives the book its strength is its restraint. Ives does not dramatise his work beyond what the reality already provides. The tension comes from procedure: the weight of the suit, the awkwardness of movement, the oppressive heat, and the knowledge that every wire, pressure plate, or disturbed patch of earth has been designed specifically to kill someone like him. These moments are described plainly, which only heightens their impact. The reader is brought close to the psychological reality of the job, where fear is not a surge of adrenaline but a steady companion that must be acknowledged, controlled, and set aside in order to function.
The book provides valuable insights into the Afghan conflict, highlighting how bomb disposal work is part of everyday counter-insurgency efforts that protect patrols, supply routes, and civilians. The IED threat is shown as a constant influence on behavior, morale, and unit relationships. Teamwork is emphasized, with the trust between soldiers depicted as crucial and difficult to earn, developed in situations where they must rely on each other completely.
The emotional toll of this work is addressed honestly. Instead of glorifying heroism, the book discusses stress, fatigue, and the heavy burden of facing danger repeatedly. Ives speaks about duty—to fellow soldiers, to civilians, and to family—without being sentimental. The outcome is a genuine depiction of courage: calm, professional, and often tired. It also highlights that modern warfare often depends on individuals pushing the limits of human endurance in roles that go unnoticed by the public.
As a war memoir, Red One is clear and credible. It avoids exaggeration and politics, focusing on real experiences of soldiers in unseen battlefields that suddenly become dangerous. For those interested in modern conflict, bomb disposal, or the human side of military operations, this book is worth reading. It’s not easy, but it offers a compelling and respectful view of a risky profession that stays with you after you finish.
This was an Ok read. I wouldn’t pay full price, but as an ex-library book in the Salvos for 50 cents well worth it.
Another Thrift Shop find.
Unofficial History is organized into thematic sections instead of a continuous story. Understanding these sections reveals the book’s appeal and purpose. Slim does not guide the reader through a career step by step; instead, each part shows different aspects of soldiering and command, creating a complete picture of army life as it was experienced.
The opening sections focus on Slim’s early experiences as a junior officer, highlighting the learning process through mistakes and the gap between theory and reality. Slim discusses how youthful confidence fades with experience but without resentment, emphasizing that true leadership stems from learning through failures and humility rather than ambition. The tone is ironic, setting the book apart from glorified war memoirs. As the book progresses,
Slim examines small wars and frontier soldiering, emphasizing how soldiers adapt to their environments rather than the outcomes of battles. He illustrates that discipline is truly tested in everyday challenges, giving readers insight into the army’s daily operations outside of major conflicts.
The book also dedicates significant attention to people, portraying fellow officers and soldiers through vivid character sketches, emphasizing qualities like reliability and humor over glorification. Slim highlights the professionalism and resilience of Indian and Gurkha troops while stressing the importance of trust and mutual respect in soldiering, showcasing the link between morale and fair treatment. Reflective sections throughout the book offer broader insights on responsibility and authority, revealing Slim’s skepticism towards rigid doctrines and the moral aspect of command. The later sections take a more retrospective view, acknowledging the uncertainty in military life.
Overall, the book is a mosaic of experiences, providing a richer understanding of the army as a community rather than a mere historical account. It is best read not as a comprehensive history but as a companion to formal military texts, valuing character and leadership insights over technical details.
I thoroughly enjoyed reading it, but I wouldn’t pay full price for it.
As the year waddles to the finish line like a penguin in a hurry, I just wanted to shout a big ol’ thank you, preferably while wearing a party hat and confetti rain!
Thank you for stopping by, reading, and for putting up with my ramblings over the past year! Whether you stumbled upon this blog yesterday or have been here since the dawn of time (or at least since I started it), your interest, comments, and stealthy support have been more important than the last cookie in the jar—trust me, that’s saying something!
Writing can often feel like a solitary act, like talking to your plants—except your plants don’t judge your puns. But knowing that these words are being read adds a touch of camaraderie, turning your lonely scribbles into a group therapy session. That sense of connection is what keeps the work going, like that first coffee on a Monday morning!
I hope Christmas wraps you in a blanket of relaxation, with good company that doesn’t eat all the cookies and a few blissful seconds of peace before the family chaos kicks in. Here’s to a new year that’s kinder than your last holiday shopping trip, steadier than a sugar-fueled kid on a trampoline, and packed with more worthy distractions than your social media feed!
Thank you again for being here, and for reading.
Merry Christmas and best wishes for the year ahead.
In a grand gesture of gratitude to all my landlubber followers, I’m thrilled to announce that ye can snag a free PDF of me jolly pirate wargaming rules, “Scurvy Dogs,” from now until Christmas Day! Aye, don’t miss out—download it here before it walks the plank!
After reading Despertaferres’ latest post I decided to have a play on ChatGPT with modifying some images and had a lot of fun. Note – Guru is a technological Luddite and anything I say in this post should be taken with the knowledge that you are reading the work of a technophobe!
Here is the original photo I am using:
This appeared in a recent post. Some ChatGPT changes
ChatGPT’s version of a Dystopian style – I like this one.
A good representation of a Monet style. Although I am a huge Monet fan this one just doesn’t cut it for me.
ChatGPT’s version of a Dali style. Not as askew as I thought and after a few tries this was the best Dali representation I could get – again not for me.
A Rembrandt style version that I quite like.
A John Constable style. Kinda quirky but I like it.
I then thought I would try the same image with Google Gemini.
Hmm. Matched my view of Google Gemini’s drawings.
Nano Banana is Google’s AI image model for Gemini, and IMHP is not a very powerful tool. OpenAI developed its own competing image model, GPT-Image-1.5, for ChatGPT. Both have moved from a text based model to a Multimodal one but ChatGPT seems to provide a richer result.
Thanks Despertaferres’ another afternoon successfully wasted!
This was ambitious task as one of us had no idea, two had an unopened copy of the rules and one had flipped through. A case of the blind leading the blind!
Despite this we meandered through and still had a lot of fun.
I decided to take as many of the German funnies as I could in 750 points above are my Nachtjager about to cause havoc amongst the Japanese “zombies”,
Schrekwulfen, Nachtalben, and Heinrich Gross holding the centre.
Japanese advance on the Americans who were allies with the Germans!
A heavily converted US “big walky thing”.
Consolidating behind a wall after wiping out a Japanese squad,
What remains of the Japanese after the Shreckwulfen and Nachtjager attacks.
I need to do a lot more work on the rules before I tackle it again.