Another period that I am extremely interested in is “The Great War in Africa”. There is a huge opportunity for some great scenario specific games but also for more standard Men Who Would Be Kings games.
After reading Paul von Lettow-Vorbeck’s My Reminiscences of East Africa and watching Hepburn and Boghart in African Queen I was hooked on the period.
Other campaigns that provide some interesting, almost pulp style gaming are the Persian Expedition with the British river boats, Dunsterforce, Arkangel and its Invasion of Russia, and the war in the Far East Colonies.
Here are some men Who Would Be Kings lists fort the East Africa Campaign.
With me now working on my WW1 28mm figures I thought MWWBK’s would be a great set of rules for the period and also meant I didn’t need to paint as many figures!
Some of these are not quite historically accurate but are designed to create different flavour for each army.
The Camel Corps and Australian Light Horse are basically the same in game terms but the fierce v elite characteristics provided a point of difference and one could argue did reflect how they fought.
Faisal’s and Lawrence’s armies were very similar but the revolt did get more British equipment support hence the machine gun.
You could argue for adding Ottoman irregulars to represent the Arab troops they used.
The French did not have any significant forces in Palestine, but the Armee D’Afrique was added just for variety as could have been the Legion D’Armenia.
The British list could be used for the Indian army which had significant numbers on the Persian front.
I am also toying with the idea of using Xenos Rampant categories and introducing some tanks and armoured cars!
Another game of men Who Would Be Kings, this time with Wayne.
Scenario D in The Men Who Would Be Kings is not a straightforward attack and defend fight. While one force is designated as the attacker, the defender cannot simply sit in a strong position. Instead, they must patrol a number of important locations across the table such as villages, wells, or crossroads. This creates immediate pressure, as the defender has to keep units moving and spread out in order to meet these obligations.
The defender’s challenge is one of balance and timing rather than raw strength. They need to move between objectives, maintain a presence across several points, and still be ready to react to the enemy. Every choice carries risk. If they concentrate too much force in one place, another location may be left exposed. If they follow the patrol too rigidly, units can become isolated and easy targets. The defender is constantly managing gaps, and those gaps are where the real danger lies.
The attacker is not simply advancing in a straight line. Their aim is to exploit the defender’s movement. They look for units caught between patrol points, objectives that are thinly held, or moments when hesitation or failed activation leaves a position weak. By applying pressure in different areas, the attacker can disrupt the defender’s ability to maintain control, breaking the system piece by piece rather than through a single decisive clash.
Victory depends on control over time rather than a single moment. The defender wins by continuing to patrol and hold the required locations. The attacker wins by disrupting that effort, either by taking key points or preventing them from being properly maintained. The scenario feels less like a set battle and more like a security operation under strain, where movement, timing, and decision making matter more than firepower alone.
The game started predictably for my Egyptian irregular horse after a failing a pin test I tried to rally rolled “snakes eyes” and ran of the board!
I quickly started to patrol one objective (stay touching for a turn)
But not for long as I was promptly thrown back by the River Arabs tribal infantry.
I repeated the patrolling on the left. Was promptly charged by tribal cavalry who frankly just “didn’t like it up em”
It was then my turn to unleash my irregular cavalry in a glorious charge and over a short period of charges and follow ups wiped out the River Arab tribal troops who had the audacity to stop my patrolling!
More tribal troops advancing only to feel the hot lead from my Regular Sudanese troops.
Back in their rightful place patrolling the first objective!
Things were quite tight for a while until the Egyptian massed fire power gradually caused the River Arabs to melt away. When we decided the bar was more inviting it was a close run event with the Egyptians in front 16 to 12.
The “Wayneinator” turned out to be no Arnie! Long live “Skynet”! Oops I mean Guru!
During the Nine Armies War of 1785, Monkey Cave transformed from a secluded religious sanctuary into a vital strategic bastion for the Siamese defense in the southern provinces. As King Bodawpaya’s massive invasion forces swept down the Malay Peninsula, the natural limestone fortress of the cave offered a rare geographical advantage. Its deep, interconnected chambers served as a secure storehouse for gunpowder, rice, and traditional weaponry, protecting these essential supplies from the scorched-earth tactics commonly employed by the advancing Burmese columns.
The cave also functioned as a critical humanitarian refuge for thousands of villagers fleeing the path of the conflict. In an era where the capture of labor was a primary goal of warfare, the easily defensible bottlenecks of the cave system allowed small groups of Siamese soldiers to shield non-combatants from being abducted into forced servitude. This protection maintained the social fabric of the region, ensuring that local resistance did not collapse under the weight of civilian displacement.
Tactically, the high karst ridges surrounding the cave provided an unparalleled vantage point for Siamese scouts. From these hidden heights, observers could monitor the movement of Burmese naval flotillas and land units as they maneuvered toward the strategic target of Thalang. The intelligence gathered at this site was funneled back to the legendary sisters Thao Thep Krasattri and Thao Sri Sunthon, providing them with the early warnings necessary to organize their famous defense of Phuket.
Beyond its physical utility, the site provided a necessary psychological anchor for the outnumbered defending forces. The presence of the reclining Buddha and the ancient belief in the cave’s guardian spirits turned the location into a spiritual headquarters. Warriors often performed traditional rites within the cool, shaded interior before launching hit-and-run ambushes, drawing on the perceived “sacred protection” of the mountain to bolster their morale against a numerically superior enemy.
Ultimately, the role of Monkey Cave during the Nine Armies War highlights the importance of local geography in shifting the tide of national history. By serving as a cache, a lookout, and a sanctuary, the cave allowed the Siamese to maintain a persistent presence in the south that the Burmese simply could not flush out. This localized resilience played a significant part in the broader failure of the Burmese invasion, helping to secure the sovereignty of the newly established Rattanakosin Kingdom.
The mammoth tome Gallipoli by Les Carlyon is one of the most useful single-volume accounts of the campaign I have ever read. It is well researched without becoming unreadable, and it manages to tie together the political decisions, the operational failures, and the experience of the men on the ground. What makes it particularly effective is the way it uses letters and diaries to keep the narrative anchored in lived experience rather than drifting into abstraction.
The book opens with the strategic thinking behind the campaign, especially the role of Winston Churchill and the push to force the Dardanelles. Carlyon makes it clear that the idea was not irrational in itself, but it was built on weak assumptions and poor intelligence. There is a consistent thread of overconfidence and a failure to properly account for Ottoman capability, which runs through the planning from the beginning.
When he turns to the landings in April 1915, particularly at ANZAC Cove and Cape Helles, the narrative shifts quickly from plan to reality. The landings were confused, badly coordinated, and immediately contested. What had been intended as a decisive entry into the peninsula became a fight just to hold on. That transition from intention to improvisation is one of the key themes running through the book.
The sections on trench life are where Carlyon is at his strongest. He does not overstate things, but the cumulative effect is clear: heat, flies, disease, lack of water, and constant pressure. Movement is limited, and the strain builds over time. The campaign becomes less about manoeuvre and more about endurance, which is an important corrective to more simplified accounts of Gallipoli.
His treatment of command is consistently critical. There is a clear sense that senior leadership struggled to adapt, that coordination was poor, and that opportunities were missed or mishandled. This is most evident in the August fighting, particularly at Lone Pine and The Nek, where tactical bravery is obvious but ultimately wasted.
The evacuation at the end of the campaign stands in sharp contrast to everything that came before. Carlyon presents it as the one phase that was properly planned and executed, and it shows. It is efficient, controlled, and largely successful, which only reinforces the failures of the earlier stages.
Overall, the book works because it keeps the scale balanced. It does not lose sight of the broader strategic picture, but it never lets that override the experience of the soldiers. It is not a theoretical study of warfare, but it does make clear how poor assumptions, weak planning, and command failure can shape the outcome of a campaign. For understanding Gallipoli in a practical and human sense, it is hard to go past. a must for any one interested in the campaign.
The story of Thao Thep Kasattri and Thao Sri Sunthon is the heartbeat of Phuket’s cultural identity and a defining moment in Thai history. To understand these two women, known originally as Chan and Mook, one must look back to the late eighteenth century. The year was 1785, and the newly established Chakri Dynasty in Bangkok was facing its greatest existential threat. The Burmese King Bodawpaya had launched what became known as the Nine Armies War, a massive multi-pronged invasion intended to crush the Siamese kingdom once and for all. While the main fighting raged in the north and center of the country, a specific fleet was dispatched to seize the wealth of the southern peninsula, specifically the tin-rich island of Phuket, which was then known as Thalang.
The situation in Thalang was dire. The governor of the island had recently passed away, leaving the local administration in a state of chaotic transition and the military defenses largely leaderless. Into this power vacuum stepped Chan, the widow of the late governor, and her sister Mook. These were not women of leisure; they were daughters of a prominent local family who understood the strategic importance of their home and the brutal reality of what a Burmese occupation would mean for their people.
han realized that they did not have enough trained soldiers to meet the professional Burmese army in a standard field battle. However, she also knew that warfare is as much about psychology as it is about steel. She and Mook organized a brilliant campaign of deception. They gathered the local women of the island and instructed them to dress in men’s clothing, donning the traditional uniforms of Siamese soldiers. They cut their hair short and carried wooden staves carved to look like muskets from a distance.
Image credit: @taarekrek via Instagram
For weeks, these disguised women marched around the perimeter of the Thalang fort in plain view of the Burmese scouts. They moved in constant rotations, appearing as a massive, unending reinforcement of fresh troops arriving from the mainland. To the Burmese commanders watching from the coast, it appeared that Thalang was an impenetrable fortress defended by a limitless garrison. This psychological pressure, combined with a month-long siege that exhausted the Burmese supplies and spread disease through their ranks, finally broke the invaders’ resolve. The Burmese fleet eventually retreated, and Phuket remained unconquered.
When news of this unlikely victory reached King Rama I in Bangkok, he was profoundly moved by the sisters’ bravery and ingenuity. He bestowed upon them the noble titles by which they are known today. Chan became Thao Thep Kasattri, and Mook became Thao Sri Sunthon. Their legacy transitioned from military history into the realm of spiritual guardianship, cementing them as the ancestral mothers of the island.
Every year in March, the island erupts in the Thalang Victory Memorial Fair to celebrate this anniversary. The highlight is a massive open-air historical drama featuring a cast of hundreds, including elephants and pyrotechnics, to reenact the siege on the very fields where it occurred. This two-week festival blends somber merit-making ceremonies by Buddhist monks with vibrant cultural displays such as Nora dances, shadow puppetry, and communal candy-making. It is a time when the mythic quality of the sisters is most visible, as the community comes together to play the roles of their ancestors, ensuring the tactical brilliance of the 1785 defense is never forgotten.
The physical manifestation of this reverence is most prominent at the Heroines Monument, which stands at the center of a major traffic circle in Thalang. This bronze statue depicts the two sisters standing side by side, dressed in traditional garb and carrying swords. It was inaugurated in 1967 and serves as the literal and figurative heart of the island. Travelers arriving from the airport often pass this landmark, and it is common practice for locals to honk their horns or offer a respectful wai as they drive past, acknowledging the protection the sisters continue to provide.
A more intimate site of worship is the Wat Pranang Sang temple, which is believed to be the site where the sisters organized their defense. However, for those seeking a deeper spiritual connection, the Thao Thep Kasattri and Thao Sri Sunthon Shrine offers a place for quiet reflection. Here, the atmosphere is heavy with the scent of jasmine and incense. Visitors offer yellow flowers, gold leaf, and small figurines of elephants or soldiers as tokens of gratitude. The statues inside the shrine are often draped in vibrant saffron and gold silks, reflecting the royal status bestowed upon them by the King.
The heroines represent a unique intersection of Thai values, combining the fierce independence of the southern people with a deep loyalty to the crown. They are a reminder that leadership does not always come from expected places and that wit can be just as sharp as any blade. Today, their presence is felt everywhere from the names of major roads to the quiet prayers whispered in front of their images. They remain the eternal sentinels of Phuket, ensuring that the spirit of Thalang is never forgotten.
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
