The third of the Greek Vickers tanks.

All three so far.

Hopefully another one tomorrow.

I am always interested in picking up books on obscure information that could easily be forgotten in time. when I saw this one on the Book Grocer it took only seconds to get out the plastic!

Sailors in Slouch Hats: From a Sea of Memories, edited by W. W. Rice, is one of those unit histories that sits somewhere between memoir, tribute, and record. It is not a grand official history and it does not pretend to be one. Its strength lies in the fact that it was recorded by the men of 42 Australian Landing Craft Company, Royal Australian Engineers, AIF, and that gives the book a directness often missing from more polished accounts of the Second World War.

The title is a good one. These men were soldiers, but much of their war was spent doing work that looked more naval than military. They operated landing craft, moved men and supplies, dealt with surf, tides, enemy fire, bad weather, confusion, mechanical failure, and the thousand small problems that come with amphibious operations. They were, in a very real sense, sailors in slouch hats. That awkward identity is part of what makes the book interesting. It reminds the reader that the Australian Army in the South West Pacific was not just infantry battalions, artillery batteries, and command headquarters. It also depended on small, practical, hard worked units that kept operations moving.

The book is especially valuable because it gives attention to a part of the war that is too easily passed over. Landing craft units were essential, but they rarely receive the attention given to the men who went ashore with rifles in their hands. Yet without these crews, many operations would have been impossible. The men of 42 Landing Craft Company had to put troops ashore, supply them, and in some cases get them out again under extremely dangerous conditions. Their work demanded courage, but also skill, patience, improvisation, and a willingness to keep going when plans broke down.

As a piece of history, the book is at its best when it allows the men to speak for themselves. The memories have the feel of recollection rather than formal reconstruction. That means they can sometimes be uneven, but that is also part of their value. There is humour, pride, sadness, understatement, and the familiar Australian habit of treating extraordinary danger as if it were merely another difficult job to be got through. The result is not always neat, but it feels human.

The strongest parts of the book are those that show the practical nature of the unit’s war. The reader gets a sense of men working with machinery, weather, water, mud, darkness, and uncertainty. This is not war as a clean movement of arrows across a map. It is war as hard labour, poor sleep, wet clothing, shouted orders, engines, loading, unloading, beaching, reversing, repairing, and trying again. That sort of detail is important because it brings the reader closer to the actual experience of service.

There are limitations. Readers looking for a broad operational study may want more context, clearer maps, and a firmer connection between the men’s memories and the wider campaign. Because the book is built around personal recollection, it does not always pause to explain the larger strategic situation. At times it assumes the reader already knows where the unit fits. For a specialist reader this is not a major problem, but for a general reader it may require some outside reading.

That said, it would be unfair to judge the book mainly by what it is not. Its purpose is not to replace official histories. Its purpose is to preserve memory. On that measure it succeeds. It records the service of men who might otherwise remain in the background of better known operations. It gives names, faces, stories, and incidents to a kind of work that is often reduced to a line in an order of battle.

For anyone interested in Australian military history, especially the South West Pacific, amphibious operations, Royal Australian Engineers, or small unit experience, Sailors in Slouch Hats is well worth reading. It is also useful for wargamers and military historians because it shows how operations depend on far more than combat units alone. Beaches, boats, supply, timing, weather, and evacuation matter. So do the men who make those things happen.

In the end, this is a modest but important book. It preserves the memory of ordinary Australians doing an extraordinary job under difficult and dangerous conditions. It is not always polished, but it is honest, affectionate, and valuable. Books like this matter because they keep small units from disappearing into the margins of history. The men of 42 Australian Landing Craft Company deserve that remembrance, and Sailors in Slouch Hats gives it to them.

One for the enthusiast because of its obscure topic, but if you are one you should definitely have in your collection.

Guess who wins!

Before the outbreak of the Second World War, Greece possessed only a very small armoured force. Its most significant tanks were two Vickers 6-Ton tanks purchased from Britain in 1931. One was a Type A model fitted with twin machine-gun turrets, while the other was a Type B with a single turret armed with a 47 mm gun. These vehicles were acquired primarily as training tanks to help establish the foundations of a Greek armoured force and to develop doctrine rather than to provide a meaningful combat capability.

Although Greece hoped to expand its armoured arm, financial limitations and the deteriorating international situation prevented further acquisitions. As war approached, Britain was increasingly unable to spare modern tanks for export, leaving the Greek Army with only these two ageing Vickers vehicles and a handful of armoured cars. By the time of the Italian invasion in October 1940 and the German invasion in April 1941, the tanks were already obsolete, mechanically worn, and unsupported by a larger armoured organisation.

The two Vickers tanks were eventually assigned to the Greek Army’s mechanised formations, including the 19th Mechanized Division, but there is little reliable evidence that they saw significant combat. Most historians regard them as training and demonstration vehicles whose military value had largely disappeared by 1941. Nevertheless, they occupy an important place in Greek military history as the country’s first tanks and the starting point of its armoured warfare tradition.

Despite this history, the Greek army list for Bolt Action allows players to field a range of armoured vehicles, including Vickers Light Tanks, Peerless armoured cars, FT-17 tanks, and captured L3/35 tankettes. In reality, the FT-17 saw little, if any, operational use during the 1940–41 campaigns and was largely obsolete by that stage. The captured Italian L3/35 tankettes, however, were put to much better use. Greece captured a large number of therm (40+) during the successful counteroffensive against Italy in Albania, and these were pressed into service to supplement the country’s very limited armoured forces.

With that in mind, I intend to assemble and paint a company of five Vickers Light Tanks to provide some much-needed armoured support for my Greek mountain troops. These two are the first of that project.

The Vickers is also one of my favourite Second World War tanks. I am not entirely sure why, as it was neither the most successful nor the most influential armoured vehicle of the war, but there has always been something about its compact, purposeful appearance that has appealed to me. Perhaps it was because they formed the basis of Australia’s first tank formation to see combat?

While these models represent a degree of historical licence, they are entirely in keeping with the options available within the game and add an interesting and characterful element to the army on the tabletop.

Further down the track, I also intend to add another four L3/35 tankettes to supplement the single example already in my collection. At least those will be a little closer to the historical record. Until then, my company of Vickers Light Tanks provides a plausible and enjoyable tabletop force, even if it takes a few liberties with history.

The models are from “The Tank Factory”. I am very impressed with the cost and quality of the work from Michael Thomas and would recommend their growing range to you. I will write a full review soon.

Thanks to ChatGPT for help with the drawings.

I was hoping to finish some more on my Greek WW2 army today but with limited tk e I decided to fi ish off another KNIL command team today

Hopefully the Greeks tomorrow.

Another short post today as I am still “”Rugrat Wrangling”.

An edition to a second squad to make it up to the 12 mode.s required for MWWBK.

Additions to my WW2 Greek army tomorrow.

Just a short post today as I am “Rugrat Wrangling” over the next few days. It is great to have our youngest Grandson staying with us so we could spoil him rotten with the three essential food types of cake, sweets, and fast foods, playing and watching footy, and cooking with Grandma. Playing games was also essential, as was, of course, allowing him unlimited screen time and staying up late.

Cooking with Grandma.

Playing football and cooking with Grandma was my favourite activities.

My name is Charles and this is my quick and easy recipe for an apple strudel.

Before cooking you first need to have a healthy breakfast of pancakes with Nutella spread, berries, ice cream, maple syrup and “sprinkles”!

Now for the cooking. Get together your ingredients”

• 2 sheets of frozen puff pastry
• 1 egg
• 1 small can of apple slices
• 1 snack pack of sultanas
• milk for glazing
• 1/2 cup of custard powder
• 1 tablespoon of sugar
• 1 heaped teaspoon of cinnamon

This recipe is so easy even I can do it.

Mix the custard powder, sugar and nutmeg into a bowl and stir well

Gently fold in the canned apples

Lay out the frozen pastry on a flat rectangular tray. leave some left over on each side to fold on top later.

Oops I forgot to add the sultanas so I needed to fold them in straight away.

Spoon in the apple mixture starting with the corners and sides and then smooth out evenly.

Fold the top over. The small balls of pastry were silly grandpas idea!

Lightly brush all over with some milk, and cook in the oven until the pastry is golden brown.

Take out of the oven (grandpa did this for me) and lightly dust with icing sugar (I like it not so lightly).

It was yummy, yummy, yummy. Even more so because I cooked it!

Although my KNIL army in progress was originally designed for WW2 the models also fit quite well for the Aceh war that I would also like to work on down the track.

The WW2 section requires only 11 figures so I needed to add another figure to each of my currently completed sections to make them up to 12 models to allow me to use them for a Men Who Would Be Kings unit.

I will not make the same mistake for the next few infantry units I am painting, as i have already added an additional figure for each!

Another figure to be painted for another unit tomorrow!

Frontline Dispatch 20
Who Commands the Plague?
By J. Harland, Embedded Correspondent

One of the most persistent myths among frontline soldiers is that the Plague is little more than a mindless horde. After months spent observing the conflict along the frontier, I can report that nothing could be further from the truth. While much of the infected mass appears chaotic, intelligence gathered from recent engagements suggests a sophisticated command structure exists within the Plague. Understanding it may be the key to surviving future battles.

Stage 3A Command

The most commonly encountered battlefield leaders are the creatures classified as Stage 3A Command organisms. These monsters are frequently observed directing groups of mutants and infected troops during assaults. Unlike lesser Plague creatures, they demonstrate tactical awareness, coordinating attacks, exploiting weaknesses, and redirecting forces as conditions change.

Several Enforcer officers have reported situations where seemingly disorganised assaults suddenly became focused and effective following the arrival of a Stage 3A commander. While not strategic thinkers in the conventional sense, they appear capable of exercising local battlefield control and greatly increase the effectiveness of nearby infected forces.

The Stage 3A Command is the only Plague faction command element that can be mounted in a vehicle. Only the “Mule” transport can be used.

Corruption

Above the battlefield commanders stand the beings known as Corruptions. Rarely seen directly, they are believed to act as regional coordinators for major Plague operations. Reports consistently describe them remaining behind the front lines while directing large numbers of infected organisms over considerable distances.

What makes the Corruption particularly dangerous is its apparent ability to influence both minds and bodies. Areas under its control often experience accelerated mutation, increased aggression among infected troops, and a disturbing degree of coordination across wide sectors. Intelligence analysts increasingly believe that many major Plague offensives are orchestrated through these creatures.

Compared with the 32mm Deadzone model

Stage 1A Lord

At the top of the hierarchy stand the terrifying entities known as Stage 1A Lords. Encounters remain exceptionally rare, largely because few witnesses survive them. These beings are regarded as the highest expression of the Plague’s evolution, possessing intelligence, strategic awareness, and power far beyond anything encountered elsewhere within the infection.

Military records attribute the fall of several colonies directly to the presence of a Stage 1A Lord. Entire campaigns have reportedly been redirected by their intervention. Unlike lesser commanders, these creatures do not simply lead battles. They shape wars. Where a Stage 1A Lord appears, every indication suggests the Plague is pursuing objectives extending far beyond the immediate battlefield.

Compared with the 32mm Deadzone model

Taken together, these three command levels reveal an uncomfortable truth. The Plague is not merely an infection spreading across the stars. It is an organised enemy capable of learning, adapting, and coordinating its forces with alarming effectiveness. The infected masses that soldiers encounter on the battlefield may be terrifying, but it is the intelligence guiding them that should cause the greatest concern.

This is J. Harland, signing off from the frontier. Stay safe, and we’ll bring you the next report from wherever the war takes us.

A small group at “Axes and Ales” has recently become interested in 12mm science fiction big battle gaming. As often happens in this hobby, what began as a casual conversation quickly evolved into discussions about armies, rules, terrain, painting plans, and the inevitable question: “How many miniatures do we really need?” The answer, of course, appears to be “more than we currently own.”

The attraction of 12mm is easy to understand. The scale sits in a sweet spot between spectacle and practicality. Infantry formations look like formations rather than scattered skirmishers, tanks can manoeuvre in meaningful numbers, and entire battalions can fight across the table without requiring a second mortgage to buy miniatures or a village hall to play the game.

With this in mind, I have decided it is finally time to start working through my Mantic Epic Warpath collection. Most of the figures originate from the Warpath Kickstarter and have been patiently waiting in their boxes for several years. By “patiently waiting” I mean quietly judging me every time I walk past the hobby room and start yet another project instead.

The forces in question are the Plague and the Marauders, which conveniently represent two very different approaches to warfare. The Plague favour horrifying biological monstrosities, rampant mutation, and the sort of battlefield appearance that would make a health inspector resign on the spot. The Marauders, on the other hand, seem to have looked at military doctrine and concluded that if something is worth building, it is worth building larger, noisier, and with considerably more guns attached to it.

The plan at this stage is to begin with the Plague, work out a painting scheme that can be applied quickly across large numbers of figures, and then move on to the Marauders. Whether this sensible plan survives first contact with reality remains to be seen.

Hopefully over the coming weeks I will be able to post some progress photographs as the armies begin to take shape. With luck, this will result in two painted forces ready for some large scale science fiction battles. With slightly less luck, it will simply result in a different collection of partially painted miniatures occupying space in the hobby room.

Either way, it should be an entertaining journey.

Photos from Mantic and image created using ChatGPT.

I picked up Alan Gallop’s Mr Stanley, I Presume? largely because of my interest in colonial pulp gaming. At first glance that may seem an odd reason to read a biography of Henry Morton Stanley, but Stanley sits behind much of the imagery that feeds the genre: expeditions, river journeys, armed porters, lost routes, hostile terrain, rival adventurers, and the confident Victorian belief that the world existed to be mapped, crossed and claimed. He is almost a ready-made pulp character: journalist, explorer, self-inventor, celebrity, imperial agent and ruthless survivor.

Yet that is also why the book needs to be read carefully. Colonial pulp gaming often turns the period into colourful adventure, but Stanley’s real career was tied to violence, coercion, racial arrogance and the brutal opening of the Congo. Gallop’s biography interested me because it helps look behind the adventure story and see the harder historical reality beneath it. For a gamer, the period offers rich scenario material, but it also requires judgement. The trick is to use the drama of the setting without forgetting the world that produced it.

Gallop’s biography is a solid and readable account of one of the most famous and troubling figures of nineteenth century exploration. The title plays on the famous meeting with Livingstone, but the book is really about the man behind the phrase. Stanley was born John Rowlands in Denbigh, Wales, and later remade himself as Henry Morton Stanley, American journalist, explorer and public figure. Gallop is good at showing this process of self-invention. Stanley was not simply exploring Africa. He was also manufacturing Stanley.

The book works best when it presents Stanley as driven, wounded, ambitious and often difficult. Gallop avoids turning him into the clean heroic figure of Victorian adventure writing. Stanley’s endurance was extraordinary, and his journeys through Central Africa were remarkable feats. He understood publicity, newspapers, lectures and the power of a memorable phrase. In that sense he feels surprisingly modern.

Where the book is less satisfying is in its treatment of the wider imperial damage surrounding Stanley’s career. Any modern reading of Stanley must deal with his connection to King Leopold II’s Congo project. Gallop does not ignore the darker side, but the book remains mostly a biography of Stanley rather than a deeper study of African experience, colonial violence or the horrors that followed in the Congo Free State. That makes the book accessible, but it also leaves some hard questions only partly answered.

For a general reader, Mr Stanley, I Presume? is a useful introduction. It gives the shape of Stanley’s life without burying the reader in academic argument. For someone interested in colonial pulp gaming, it is also a reminder that the raw material of adventure stories often came from a brutal and unequal world. There are scenarios everywhere in Stanley’s life, but there are also traps for the unwary gamer or writer.

Overall, this is a readable and engaging biography of a remarkable but deeply compromised man. It restores Stanley as a complicated human being rather than leaving him trapped inside one famous sentence. It should not be the final word on Stanley, the Congo or European imperialism, but it is a good starting point. Read alongside more critical histories of the Congo, it becomes much more useful.

Verdict: a strong introductory biography, clear and accessible, but less complete as a modern reckoning with the imperial world Stanley helped create.