Vocabular: Care este semnificaţia cuvântului “sinaxă”?

R: nume dat adunărilor primilor creştini

Cât alcool conţine cea mai tare bere din lume?

R: 32%

Când lansează Eminem o extensie a albumului “Relapse”?

R: 21 decembrie 2009

Evenimente: În ce an şi-a declarat Albania independenţa faţă de Imperiul Otoman?

R: 1912

Bătălii: În ce an a avut loc Bătălia de la Berezina, bătălie ce s-a terminat cu înfrângerea trupelor lui Napoleon?

R: 1812

Formaţii: Ce formaţie a lansat în anul 1969 albumul “Let It Bleed”?

R: The Rolling Stones

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HS: Pienehkö mies yritti ryöstää yhden naisen ja kuristaa toista Helsingissä keskiviikkoiltana.

Ensin mies yritti ryöstää nuoren naisen uhkailemalla puukolla, mutta onnistui vain vahingoittamaan naisen käsilaukkua. Myöhemmin hän tarttui läheisellä bussipysäkillä toisen naisen kaulaliinaan yrittäen kuristaa naista sillä. Nainen kuitenkin puolustautui iskemällä pientä miestä nyrkillä kasvoihin ajaen tämän pakosalle.

Silminnäkijöiden mukaan tekijä oli hyvin pieni mies. “Ei ollut hänessä suurmiehen ainesta”, toteaa paikalla ollut vanhempi silminnäkijä.

- “Aleksanteri Suuri, Napoleon ja Mannerheim, ovat aivan eri puusta veistettyjä”.

- “Siinä missä tämä sankari onnistui vain vahingoittamaan yhtä käsilaukkua ja omaa nenäänsä, todelliset suurmiehet onnistuvat saattamaan satojatuhansia hengiltä. Todelliset suurmiehet ryöstättävät kokonaisia kaupunkeja, jopa kansakuntia. Toista se on tämä nykynuoriso. Vahingoitetaan vaan käsilaukkuja ja saadaan neppariin naisilta. Jos -39 Mainilassa meillä olisi ollut tällaisia näin pieniä miehiä paikalla, puhuisimme kaikki venäjää!” – silminnäkijä huutaa ja lyö toimittajaa keskelle nenää.

Hän ei ollut pieni mies

El personaje es el príncipe Luís Fernando de Prusia -Louis Ferdinand Prinz von Preußen (1772/1806)-, príncipe, soldado y músico. A pesar de su corta vida -apenas 34 años- nos dejó unas cuantas buenas historias de hechos militares, personales y musicales. Feroz combatiente en las Guerras Revolucionarias Francesas y, más tarde en las Napoleónicas, fue varias veces herido en combate hasta que el 10 de octubre de 1806 resultó muerto en la batalla de Saalfeld: “El suboficial aposentador de los húsares franceses, Jean-Baptiste Guindey, le ofreció la oportunidad de rendirse, pero el príncipe rechazó la oferta. Atacó con su sable al sargento francés causándole una herida grave en el rostro. Sin embargo, la respuesta del francés le atravesó el pecho, muriendo de inmediato”. Fin de la historia.

Grabado del célebre dibujante militar y creador de la Uniformología, el alemán Richard Knötel (1857/1914) en el que interpreta la muerte de príncipe Luis Fernando a manos de los húsares franceses en la batalla de Saalfeld.

En lo personal nos dejó diversas aventuras y escarceos amorosos fruto de los cuales fueron sus, al menos, tres hijos ilegítimos y uno más habido en su matrimonio morganático -entre dos personas de distinta clase-. En lo musical nos dejó la lamentable pérdida de quien probablemente haya sido el personaje de la realeza con más talento para la música, tanto en su faceta compositiva como interpretativa. En este último campo hay que destacar que no solo fue alumno de Beethoven, sino que éste le dedicó su Concierto para Piano y Orquesta Nº3, alabando sus grandes dotes interpretativas.

En cuanto a la composición su catálogo es bastante breve -apenas 13 obras catalogadas-, algo lógico teniendo en cuenta su temprana muerte y su repleta “agenda de actividades extra-musicales”. Dicho catálogo se concreta en principalmente en piezas de música de cámara con alguna incursión orquestal. Sin embargo, esta brevedad compositiva se ve acompañada de una calidad fuera de toda duda y que nos hace soñar, una vez más, con lo que pudo haber sido y no fue.

Rondó Brillante, tercer movimiento del Gran Trío -Großes Trio- en mi bemol mayor, Opus 10, perteneciente al primero de los tres volúmenes que componen la integral de tríos.

Recientemente el Trio Parnassus, a través del sello alemán MDG [+], ha publicado la integral de Tríos con Piano en tres soberbios discos compactos que reflejan perfectamente tanto las dotes compositivas del irrepetible príncipe prusiano como las interpretativas de este gran trío. Que ustedes lo disfruten.
.

Las piezas incluidas en esta bitácora se muestran a modo de ejemplo. Si te gusta alguna de ellas, compra el disco en tu tienda o a través de los enlaces que te proponemos. Ayudarás a los artistas a seguir con su trabajo y a todos nosotros a disfrutar del mismo. Gracias.

Les afficionados de Napoléon vont être aux anges avec la version collector de Napoléon Total War.

Cette édition Imperial contiendra un poster; une biographie illustrée de Napoléon Bonaparte”(format A3) ainsi que 2 unités supplémentaires.

I have just read the Memoirs of the Young Princess, Duchesse d’ Angouleme detailing the flight of the French royal family to Varennes.I found the Dramatis Personae quite fascinating and captivating to say the least. The overthrow of the French monarchy in 1789 was an earth shaking affair which was to precipitate the Napoleonic wars that lasted for many years. The France of Louis XVI was a far cry from that of his grandfather and Sun king, Loius XIV who in a fit of pique and arrogance had declared as follows;”L’etat Cest Moi” which translated into English meant as follows “The State is me”.

Why did the French Monarchy fall? Were the reasons from within or without? Was Camille Desmoulins right when he had emphatically declared that it was a crime to be a King? Did the hapless king deserve to die by the guillotine? Was the ‘Austrian whore’ Marie Antoinette responsible for the demise of the monarchy and royal family? Were her affairs and scandalous living too much for the French proletariats to endure? Did the French people deserve the Reign of terror of Robespierre and the Directory? Questions, questions and more questions.

Bonaparte par Napoléon

L’auteur de ce livre n’est pas un historien, mais l’arrière-petit-neveu de Napoléon Bonaparte himself. Pour faire plus simple, disons que le plus jeune frère de l’Empereur, Jérôme, était le grand-père du grand-père de l’auteur, Charles Napoléon. A la différence des historiens, Charles Napoléon, 59 ans, écrit donc sur sa propre famille lorsqu’il nous parle de son illustre aïeul. Ce qui, on est d’accord, n’est pas un gage un de qualité! Néanmoins, l’ouvrage se révèle instructif, bien documenté et présente un portrait original. Loin des clichés qui font qu’on s’imagine un Bonaparte à la tête de ses troupes et tyran, ce livre met en lumière le côté rebelle de l’Empereur, homme de progrès mais aussi en proie au doute, un homme jaloux, jouant avec son fils, aimant s’amuser avec ses amis, et trichant aux cartes. Charles Napoléon explique avoir été baigné dans son histoire, éduqué au milieu de tableaux comme celui de David, représentant le Premier consul franchissant du Col du Grand Saint Bernard. Alors s’agit-il ici d’un livre de plus sur Napoléon, alors que chaque jour dans le monde, un livre nouveau sur Napoléon paraîtrait dans le monde depuis sa mort, selon les calculs de l’historien Jean Tulard? Sans doute. Charles Napléon lui-même n’en est pas à son coup d’essai. Mais si vous n’en avez plus eu entre les mains depuis un petit temps ou que vous êtes un amateur de tout ce qui touche à l’Empereur, ce livre devrait néanmoins vous passionner…

Christelle

“Napoléon, mon aïeul, cet inconnu”, de Charles Napoléon (XO éditions), 416 pages, 21,90 €

Cote: 4/5

Napoléon et l’amour !

Désirée, Pauline, Georgina, Antoinette, Adèle, Eléonore, Marie, Marie-Louise, … La liste des femmes que Napoléon a aimé est longue! Pour un soir, un mois ou beaucoup plus, ses conquêtes jalonnent sa vie amoureuse comme ses victoires son tableau de chasse militaire. Mais si le sujet semble frivole, l’auteur du livre nous détrompe: et si la misoginie de l’Empereur qui transpire bien des articles du code civil était le prix payé pour les mensonges, infidélités et coquetteries d’une seule… Joséphine? A noter, en fin d’ouvrage ce “florilège de pensées napoléoniennes sur les femmes et l’amour”. Certaine sont coquines comme par exemple ce  ”L’amour est une sottise faite à deux”, “A l’amour comme à la guerre, il faut se voir de près” ou encore ce “Pour être heureux, le mariage exige un continuel échange de transpiration”. D’autres, par contre, ont de quoi faire bondir les féministes: “Il vaut mieux que les femmes travaillent de l’aiguille que de la langue, surtout pour se mêler des affaires politiques” ou encore sa réponse à Mme de Stael qui lui demande quelle est la plus remarquable femme du monde: “Celle qui fait le plus d’enfants”…

Christelle

“Napoléon, Joséphine et les autres”, par Isabelle Bricard (Larousse), 314 pages, 20€

Cote: 4/5

We take our first look in Part 1

by dkpatriarch

© 2009 David Hilton

When to next for the Assassin?

With Ubisoft’s Assassin’s Creed 2 achieving great first-week sales of 1.6 million units worldwide, a 32 percent increase on the original medieval action stealth title, which sold around 1.1 million copies the first week in 2007, I’ve decided to jump the gun a bit and explore where and when the inevitable third Assassin’s Creed game could take place.

Ubisoft have chosen very well for their first two titles and so they must think very carefully (if they have not already decided) [Ed: which they already have, but just haven't let on about] about the setting of the next installment, especially now that they’ve got the game’s mix of free-running action and mission diversity right this time.

Here is Part 1 of my list of possible time periods and settings that I’ve come up with after pondering the possibilities through the filter of my past education in history.  I’d really like to know which one you, as fellow gamers, think would fit the Assassin’s Creed style.

1. The Fourth Crusade: Crusaders Sack Fellow Christian Bastion of Constantinople

The Siege of Constantinople

This would be a bit of a “back to the past” as far as time period goes, but there is no reason why this series needs to stay in chronological order, except if Ubisoft believes gamers want ‘more’ technology (like the gun and flying machine in Assassin’s Creed 2).  I hope that isn’t the case because this period has much to recommend it.

First, the Medieval Crusader period is still a rich setting to explore, and second, the Fourth Crusade wasn’t remotely the same as the one explored in Assassin’s Creed.

Finally, it is a time when the Templars were still active, and they and the Assassins are central to all the games’ overarching plot.

This ‘crusade’ started out with the goal of Christian soldiers fighting the ‘infidel’ Muslims in the Holy Land, but the crusaders were waylaid by the Venetians and used instead to fight Venice’s trading rival and the Greek Orthodox Church in Constantinople (present day Istanbul).

In other words the war was about power, greed and competition between both the merchant cities and the two great Christian Churches: Roman Catholic and Eastern Greek Orthodox.

The Crusader sack of Constantinople in 1204 was largely due to Venice’s manipulation, where you had the Crusaders all ready to recapture Jerusalem only to get into debt with the Venetians who were to transport them there and then instead get pointed toward Constantinople to pay off their debts.

This presents plenty of the betrayals and manipulations found in the first two games.

Present day Zadar

It also presents the gamer with beautiful exotic new settings in Constantinople, which had been the capital of the Eastern Roman Empire full of rich culture and history and extraordinary Byzantine architecture which can still be seen in Istanbul today, and Zadar (in present day Croatia), which is still a beautiful medieval town along the Dalmatian coast.

There is also some familiarity in a setting that has been done just recently in Venice, though the city has not yet reached the Renaissance period.

Ubisoft Montreal have said they want to use historically significant events as settings for their Assassin’s Creed games, so why would this be a good choice?  I found this website summed it up nicely:

Probably the most telling event which displayed the decline of the crusader ideal was the capture and pillage of the Christian bastion of Constantinople by the members of the Fourth Crusade in 1204. The subsequent dismemberment of the Byzantine Empire weakened Christendom in the Near East and created an animousity between Catholics and Orthodox which has lasted into the 20th century.

Constantinople could not recover enough to fight off the Turks after this and much of Eastern Europe fell to the Muslims as a result.  Talk about shooting yourself in the foot: go off to expand Christianity and end up losing a whole lot more territory of it.

2. The French Revolution: Vive La Revolution!

Bastille prison attacked in revolution

This is very likely one of the strongest possibilities for the next game as it was rumoured to be the setting for the second game back in December 2008.  I’ve written about this before, and you can find more detail about the time period here,  but I will try and summarise why this setting would be appropriate.

The French Revolution (1789-1799) was a huge historic period of upheaval where the notion of absolute rule by the monarchy and the aristocrats was turned on its head when the downtrodden, starving, smelly, diseased peasants, incited by the intellectuals and merchant class, revolt and start killing off their so-called betters.

When they ran out of them, they followed by killing each other off too during the Reign of Terror. Of course the ideas of freedom, equality, and brotherhood were all dandy but repression was more fun. It was just that repression was now carried out by the lay-people, not just upper crust lords and ladies in wigs.

Off with their heads!

The other monarchies of Europe felt threatened by the French Revolution and so attack. Napoleon fights them and wins. For awhile anyway.

The mayhem of this period and the clash of idealism and power make it another great period for an Assassin’s Creed game.  This would allow Ubisoft to be more chronological as well, though I don’t personally believe this is necessary.

Certainly the French Revolution and the Republic that followed showed the violent transition between the old feudal social model and the new ‘power to the people’ ideal which would be revisited in various forms throughout Europe and the New World.

Paris (before the big wide boulevards, cafes and Eiffel Tower) still has a lot to offer as a setting, even if dirtier and full of narrow alleys, and various other French towns could complement it.

I’m not sure where the Templar and Assassins conflict would come in, but as secret societies now they could be integrated into the upheaval fairly easily.

3. World War 2: Was Hitler A Templar?

Templars are supposed to have beards, not silly mustaches!

I’ll be upfront with my opinion of this option: it stinks!  Yet according to some rumours Ubisoft may be looking at a female protagonist and they may be looking at World War 2 as a time period appropriate for a female assassin.  That means I’d better include it in my list, reluctant though I am.

I have no problem with a female assassin but I don’t believe that female assassins are only appropriate to the 20th Century.  And let’s face it, World War 2, though it still can be an engaging game environment, is not fresh or inspiring for an Assassin’s Creed game.

The female assassin in World War 2 has been done before in a game as well: Velvet Assassin, not to mention that a stealth open-world style game set in WW2 is being done by EA in The Saboteur, out soon.

Assassin's Creed 3: The remake?

Could the Nazis make good neo-Templars with their insignias, swastikas, uniforms, and interest in the occult?  Yes.  Would they make good targets for an assassin?  Yes.  Do I see this time period being exciting and feeling like the historic Assassin’s Creed games so far?  No.

Still, Sebastian Puel, the producer, said:

We don’t want to just decide we want to change and have a female hero as the first inspiration is always the time period, but if you’re talking about, say, World War II the economies in England and France were run by women because the men were off fighting.

Hmmm….the economies, huh?  Factory girl gone assassin….fascinating stuff.

4. The New World: Conquistadors

A New World for a new game?

An intriguing option would be the expansion of the Spanish Empire into the New World with the conquest of Incan and Aztec territories by the gold and land hungry conquistadors from the 15th to the 19th centuries.

These men were explorers, conquerors, adventurers, soldiers, and fortune hunters and invaded the New World for themselves, for Spain, and for the Church.

As far as turning points in history go, this is a big one: the wealth and prestige gained by owning new territories began a colonialism race that only fairly recently has faded and certainly is responsible for the way the world is made up today.

What role the Templars and Assassins would play in this is unclear, but the New World represented a new start to many, and a place where people could build their own society with some degree of independence.

This would appeal to any surviving Templars, as they would see a new place for them to rebuild their wealth and influence (possibly at the Spanish Court using their new riches, but possibly just in new territory away from interference).

The conflict for the Assassins would be to prevent this, while all around them native populations are taking sides, dying of sickness brought by the newcomers, and waring against these smelly pale Europeans who carry advanced weaponry.

Depending on the exact date chosen, there could be Spanish colonial towns and forts,  Incan or Aztec cities with temples, and dangerous jungle in between.

Well that ends Part 1, with Part 2 coming soon, so keep your eyes out for it on OXCGN. You can also catch Ubisoft’s Hybride Technologies Assassin’s Creed Lineage films here in full glorious colour -  – all 45 mins of them. Part 1 and Parts 2 – 3.

• Where would you like to see Assassin’s Creed 3?

Remember that David’s prediction of the current location and era was correct, so perhaps his predictions may well be close to the mark for the next iteration. Make your vote count, as we send these articles to Ubisoft, and they can  see your comments and the poll.

©2009 David Hilton

• Other games in genre at discount $’s for ALL OXCGN readers + Bonus Points

je suis un démon à trois cornes, de la race, mais un peu dégénérée de Napoléon.

lettre à Mme Hanska (10/05/1834)

Même si Balzac n’a pas connu directement Napoléon (1769-1821), il en a été un grand admirateur. il est en relation (épistolaire) avec Letizia Marie Bonaparte, nièce de l’empereur. Napoléon et sa Grande Armée sont très présent dans l’œuvre et la vie de Balzac. Il compare sa vie à celle des soldats Ma vie est celle de l’armée d’Italie, moins Napoléon, se compare volontiers à cet empereur qu’il admire (et qui avait la même puissance de travail, 18h par jour, que l’écrivain), avec la lucidité ou la (fausse ?) modestie d’être un ton en dessous tout de même. En 1844, il aimerait néanmoins se situer au niveau de Napoléon : Quatre hommes auront eu une vie immense : Napoléon, Cuvier, O’Connell, et je veux être le quatrième. Le premier a vécu la vie de l’Europe, il s’est inoculé des armées ! […] moi, j’aurais porté toute une société dans ma tête. En goguette vers la Sardaigne (avec l’objectif d’acheter une mine d’argent, mais il arrivera trop tard, mine déjà vendue à un autre), en 1838, il passera par la Corse et visitera la maison de son modèle J’ai beaucoup souffert, surtout sur mer, mais me voici dans la ville natale des Napoléons. […] Je suis allé voir la maison de Napoléon, et c’est une pauvre baraque. D’ailleurs j’y ai rectifié plusieurs erreurs. (l. à Mme Hanska, Ajaccio, 26 mars 1838). Si Napoléon est très présent dans la vie de l’écrivain, il l’est autant dans sa Comédie Humaine qui fait référence plus ou moins directement à la Grande Armée dans par exemple (non exhaustif) L’Adieu ou encore Le Colonel Chabert qui accompagne Napoléon à Eylau en 1807 pour combattre les Russes. Napoléon intervient même en tant que personnage dans 2 romans : La Vendetta et Une Ténébreuse affaire. On dit que (d’après Virginie Ancelot), sur une statue de l’Empereur placée dans son cabinet de travail, Balzac aurait écrit : Ce qu’il a commencé par l’épée, je l’achèverai par la plume.

Dear darling readers, were you running out of sarcastic comebacks at social outlets?

We’re very sorry for our “we-couldn’t-help-it” silence, and we’ve got just the thing to make you forget all about it. Or, to distract you at least for a while. This is a bunch of quotes knitted with what we think was either missed out on, or actually intended.

We’ve picked out a first batch of ten, and revamped them YakhneBatata-style. Feel free to use them, let us know which you think have more of a “BAM” impact!

1. Be nice to spoiled brats. Chances are you’ll end up working for one.

Original quote: “Be nice to nerds. Chances are you’ll end up working for one.” (Bill Gates)

2. Be faithful to small things because it is in eating them that your strength lies.

Original quote: “Be faithful in small things because it is in them that your strength lies.” (Mother Theresa)

3. A man will fight harder for his interests than for your rights.

Original quote: “A man will fight harder for his interests than for his rights.” (Napoleon Bonaparte)

4. A celebrated people lose sleep. A very celebrated people lose brain cells due to celebration beverages.

Original quote: “A celebrated people lose dignity upon a closer view.” (Napoleon Bonaparte)

5. Opportunity is nothing without ability.

Original quote: “Ability is nothing without opportunity.” (Napoleon Bonaparte)

6. I am an extraordinary patient, provided I get my meds on time.

Original quote: “I am extraordinarily patient, provided I get my own way in the end.” (Margaret Thatcher)

7. I am a little keystroke under the tip of the finger of a writing drone who is sending a forwarded email to the world. (No, this quote is not intended to speak of God)

Original quote: I am a little pencil in the hand of a writing God who is sending a love letter to the world. (Mother Theresa)

8. Women are nothing but machines for producing children. Happy Mother’s Day!

Original quote: “Women are nothing but machines for producing children.” (Napoleon “Yes-I-Actually-Said-That” Bonaparte)

9. I don’t think the Republicans can damage my character. I reserve the right to accomplish that myself.

Original quote: ”I don’t think the Republicans can damage my character.” (Bill Clinton)

10. God does not play dice. He does not breed mice. He does not eat rice. And he doesn’t ever blink twice.

Original quote: “God does not play dice.” (Albert Einstein)

11. ”My sister’s expecting a baby, and I don’t know if I’m going to be an uncle or an aunt.”

Original quote: ”My sister’s expecting a baby, and I don’t know if I’m going to be an uncle or an aunt.” (Chuck Nevitt, we threw that one in extra)

So, which of these do you think would perform better for you?

Personally, I find inspiration in the quotes of several people. Napoleon is the one that I have most recently searched for. The quotes that I have chosen have a personal interest to me. Most of them are about being the best, leading, and of course some are just plainly inspirational;

- A leader is a dealer in hope

- A man will fight harder for his interests than his rights

- A soldier will fight long and hard for a bit of coloured ribbon

- A throne is only a bench covered with velvet

- A true man hates no one

- Ability is nothing without opportunity

- All religions have been made by man

- Death is nothing, but to have lived defeated and inglorious is to die daily

- Glory is fleeting, but obscurity is forever

- He who fears of being conquered is sure of defeat

- He who knows how to flatter also knows how to slander

- I love power. But it is as an artist that I love it. I love it as a musician loves his violen, to draw out its sounds and chords and harmonies

- Imagination rules the world

- Impossible is a word only to be found in the dictionary of fools

- In politics….never admit a mistake

- It requires more courage to suffer than to die

- Let the path be open to talent

- Men are moved by two levers only: fear and self-interest

- Men take only their needs into consideration – never their abilities

- Never interupt your enemy when he is making a mistake

- One should never forbid what one lacks the power to prevent

- Religion is excellent stuff for keeping common people quiet

- Religion is what keeps the poor from murdering the rich

- Soldiers generally win battles; generals get the credit for them

- Take time to deliberate, but when the time for action has arrived, stop thinking and go in

- Ten people who speak make more noise than ten thousand who are silent

- The best way to keep one’s word is not to give it

- The herd seek out the great, not for their sake but for their influence, and the great welcome them out of vanity or need

- The people to fear are not those who disagree with you, but those who disagree with you and are too cowardly to let you know

- The surest way to remain poor is to be an honest man

- The truest wisdom is a resolute determination

- There is only one step from the sublime to the ridiculous

- To do all that one is able to do is to be man, to do all that one would like to do, is to be god

- Victory belongs to the most persevering

- We must laugh at man to avoid crying for him

- When small men attempt great enterprises, they always end by reducing them to the level of their mediocrity

- You must not fight too often with one enemy, or you will teach him all your art of war

I wonder if you actually read all the way down to the bottom?

It lied there. Forgotten, caked in the dried blood of what may have been a Russian Cossack, or a British Dragoon. Perhaps, it was the blood of a general or, perhaps, just of a simple infantryman. The soft grey blade rested amongst the stems of grass, it’s grim ornamentation glistening in the noon sun.
I touched the hilt and felt the twisted leather’s rough texture underneath my palm. I pulled it free from it’s prison and raised it above my head. Unlike what I had heard from those who tell stories, it did not shine brilliantly. The only thing that happened was that more light was cast upon the scratched, bloody surface.
I wondered, with some childish excitement, who could have held a sword as fine as this. It could have been a  mounted cavalryman or an officer, perhaps even a general! I lowered it and dragged it’s edge along the grass, watching the grass bending underneath the blade. Holding it in my hand, I could feel the power, the essence of it’s glorious owner overtaking me. I imagined that I was the Emperor himself, riding into battle, the cavalry of the Guard struggling to keep up with me and artillery firing in the distance, the loud explosions frightening man and beast alike. Of course, that’s not how it happens. He doesn’t ride into battle like a suicidally brave soldier. He stays behind the lines and plans, thoughts and strategies swirling in his mind, until he comes up with something so perfect that it cannot fail. And, usually, it doesn’t. He has tasted defeat, of course, but not nearly as much as his enemies.
Slowly dragging the sword behind me, I left the field and stood on the road that led to a city. I imagined that along this road with me walk the grenadiers, fusiliers and many other soldiers, the music of the drummers ringing in my ears, the song of these frightening citizen-soldiers striking fear into the hearts of the enemy.
I sang with them that day. I walked along the dusty dirt road and sang every song I knew, whether it was a marching song I heard from the storytellers or a lullaby my mother taught me.
I could see the ghosts of the past coming back to life in the fields around me. Tens of thousands of soldiers rose from the fields, like armies doomed to fight for an eternity. To my sides stood the fusiliers, the glorious Guard, the cuirassiers  and carabiniers with their shining armour. On the opposite side stood the the vile enemy, who only come to burn the land, steal treasure and enslave us.
As quickly as they appeared, the ghosts vanish. I sit down in the shade of a tree and wait, minutes passing slowly as I lean on the sword, staring at a ditch in front of me. Perhaps, this reality is better than the one I imagined. It is peaceful now. The sea is not far. Birds sing as they soar across the sky and the lazy spring dust settles upon the road I’ve walked since I was born. The snow had already melted and the may sun sends it’s warmth down to us earth dwellers.
I heard something and looked to the skies. It sounded like a dragon, roaring and spitting fire, but there was nothing.
I stood once more and walked into the centre of the road. Dust was  being raised in the distance.
This was something I had not seen before.
Slowly, it was moving towards me – the cloud of dust, so thick I couldn’t see anything. It was frightening, but I held firm the sword and stood my ground. It was closer now and I could make out what was coming.
Barrels jutted like spikes from the cloud as the tanks neared, the black crosses on their sign appearing as the eyes of the beast. Tracks pressed into the dirt, but the war machines moved swiftly.
My father had spoken of them. He saw some, in the War. The roaring returned and I looked up. This time, the sky was filled with dark shapes. Many dark shapes, similar to still birds, their wings extended. Hundreds, maybe.
The dust cloud was now only a few kilometres away and I could see the trucks, the war machines, artillery. I stood on the side of the road, to let them by.
The steel beast passed me, it’s dark grey frame like a monster from ghost stories. They were all grey. The machines, the trucks, the artillery and even the soldiers. A single man broke off the final column and approached me. He asked me what was I doing here and I answered, with unnecessary bravado, that I was watching for the enemy and defending my homeland. He just laughed.
He removed a small blue helmet from his side and placed it on my head. Now, I was a real soldier. With another laugh, he stood back up and appeared much taller than he was before. He grinned down at me and said, with a heavy accent:
“To protect your homeland, you’ll need a lot more than a stick and a helmet.”
And then he left, running after his platoon. I dropped the stick, which until now was a sword, and ran towards home. That day, I learned a lesson. Sometimes, the enemy is far closer thank you think. And sometimes, he is not even my enemy.

Wer hat Angst for Haien???

Ja, ja, da konnte ich noch Scherze machen! Das war nämlich VOR dem heutigen Tauchen mit den Haien…

Mein Arbeitskollege Ivan und ich haben uns heute im Underwater World auf der Insel Sentosa getroffen, um mit Haien, Rochen und einem Napoleon-Fisch (und natürlich einigen anderen Fischchen) zu tauchen.

Beim Ausfüllen des Schadloshaltungs-Formulars war es mir dann aber schon nicht mehr ganz sooo wohl…

Und dann hat nur noch Schalk und Humor geholfen, die anfängliche Angst zu “überspielen”…

Und dann ging’s los!!

Zum Glück hatten die ALLE schon genügend zu fressen bekommen!

Für mich waren aber eigentlich nicht einmal die Haie sondern das Füttern der Adlerrochen der Höhepunkt! Wahrscheinlich kann man sich nicht vorstellen, wie wunderschön sanft die Haut eines Adlerrochen ist, bis man sie selbst einmal berühren konnte. Ein unglaublich schönes und prägendes Erlebnis!

Ich habe sogar seine Zähne gespürt, als wir ihn mit Muscheln gefüttert haben!

Und nach dem gut halbstündigen Tauchgang war ich total fasziniert und zufrieden – natürlich aber auch froh, dass immer noch alle Finger und beide Füsse dort sind, wo sie hingehören!

Die zwei Haifisch-Taucher: Maikoll & Ivan

]]> http://westernhistory.wordpress.com/2009/11/20/wwii-turning-points-munich-agreement/ Sat, 21 Nov 2009 00:35:12 +0000 JA Smith http://westernhistory.wordpress.com/2009/11/20/wwii-turning-points-munich-agreement/

After the end of WWI, and the dissolution of the Austro-Hungarian empire, a new state called Czechoslovakia was formed in 1918, consisting of the regions of Bohemia, Moravia, Silesia, Slovakia, and Carpathian Ruthenia. Many different ethnicities resided within this newly formed country, including Germans, Slovaks, Hungarians, and Ruthenians, living alongside the majority Czech population.

In the western-most region of the country, in the provinces of Bohemia, Moravia, and Silesia, there lived a majority German-speaking population, many of whom had been former subjects of the Kaiser before the fall of the Second Reich. This region was known in German and English speaking countries as Sudetenland, named for the Sudeten mountain range that ran thru Silesia along the Polish border.

At the end of WWI, these Sudeten Germans, known as Sudetendeutsche, pushed hard for unification with Austria, in the ultimate hopes of being incorporated into Weimar Germany. The Czechs, however, pushed US President Woodrow Wilson equally hard for the annexation of Sudetenland to Czechoslovakia. Wilson responded by sending an ambassador to the region to access the situation. At this time in European history, oppression of ethnic and religious minorities was common, and the situation was no different in a figurative melting pot like Czechoslovakia. After witnessing a violent crackdown on Sudeten German protesters by the Czech authorities, Wilson’s ambassador suggested that most of Sudetenland would be better off under German or Austrian rule, but his suggestion was ignored. Those observing the situation knew that Sudetenland would one day become a problem in the future, either for the Czechs at the hands of Germany, or for the Sudeten Germans at the hands of Czechoslovakia, but given the region’s ample resources, and massive industry, which the Czechoslovak State would come to depend on, the Prague government insisted that Czechoslovakia could not survive without it.

During the years after the end of WWI, the Czechoslovak government undertook a massive program of fortifying the Sudetenland along their border with Germany, in fear of invasion. Many of these fortifications were nestled into the Sudeten mountains, and were thought by most military analysts at the time to be even more formidable than the infamous Maginot Line in France. Naturally assuming that any German invasion would have to come thru Sudetenland, the Czechoslovak government didn’t spend nearly as much time, money, or resources fortifying the rest of the country, although there were a similar, though less formidable set of defenses along the Hungarian border as well.

When the Great Depression devastated the worldwide economy in the 1930’s, Sudetenland was hit particularly hard by the downturn, as most all of Czechoslovakia’s industry was located there; armaments, textiles, glassworks, etc… Many ethnic Germans lost there jobs when the factories were forced to lay off workers, and a majority of them blamed the Czech government for their problems. Given their newfound hardships, they became all the more susceptible to communist and socialist messages. Marxist and Fascist parties gained popularity amongst the Sudeten Germans and many Pan-German organizations were formed. One party in particular, called the Sudetendeutsche Party (SdP), an ultra-nationalist/separatist group led by Konrad Henlein (ironically an anti-Nazi until the pro-Nazi element within Czechoslovakia attained power), gained a rather large following amongst Sudeten Germans, after aggressively agitating for union with Nazi Germany and making impossible demands that the Czechoslovak government couldn’t possibly accept. His philosophy was summed up by the following statement; “We must make demands that cannot be satisfied”. Adopting the Nazi phrase “Ein Volk, ein Reich, ein Führer” (one people, one empire, one leader) as his own, Henlein’s SdP attained a majority vote in Sudetenland by the late ’30s, and was behind a number of terrorist attacks and coup attempts against the Czechoslovak government. These attacks failed and Henlein was forced to flee to Nazi Germany in 1938, where he then became a guerilla leader and launched covert attacks on Czechoslovakia from the north. He was instrumental in influencing Hitler’s enthusiasm in regards to the Sudeten Crisis and also played a major role in shaping the Munich Agreement. 

On Sept. 30th, 1938, Hitler signed the Munich Agreement, or Munich Pact, with a number of other signatories, including British Prime Minister, Neville Chamberlain, and Fascist Italian leader, Benito Mussolini. After making numerous threats against Czechoslovakia, demanding the handover of the Sudetenland, the major European powers, England, France, and Italy, moved quickly to appease Hitler, as they had done only months earlier when Austria was annexed to the Third Reich in “Anschluss” (meaning link-up). A conference was held in Munich, as the title Munich Agreement would imply, in which the fate of Czechoslovakia was to be determined, yet Czechoslovakia had no say in the matter. Their ambassadors were barred from the conference altogether, at the behest of Hitler, and were forced to sit by quietly as their country was mutilated by Nazi daggers wielded by the very countries (i.e. Britain and France) who had guaranteed to protect Czechoslovakia from the very actions their own statesmen were undertaking. With a stroke of the pen, and a friendly handshake with der Führer, Neville Chamberlain and Édouard Daladier signed over virtually all of the Czechoslovak defenses and industry to Nazi Germany. In addition to the formidable mountain fortifications, which Hitler personally inspected after the pact was made, the famous Škoda Works armaments plant, which was responsible for the production of most all of Czechoslovakia’s armaments, was ceded to the Nazis as well. In fact, the Škoda Works was responsible for the production of the LT-35 and LT-38 tanks, more commonly known by the German name Panzer 35(t) and the Panzer 38(t), which were originally Czech creations. Both models would ultimately serve as the foundation in the invasions of both Poland and France. 

After the Munich Agreement had been signed, Czechoslovakia lost all faith in the West, and would not forgive the governments of Britain and France for their backstabbing until many years later. Oddly enough, Hitler was just as angry. He reportedly loathed the diplomatic dealings of Chamberlain and felt he had been made to act like a democratic bourgeois, threatening that “If that silly old man (Chamberlain) comes interfering here again with his umbrella, I’ll kick him downstairs and jump on his stomach in front of the photographers”. Fearing war might result if nothing could be agreed upon, the British population received the pact favorably and felt they had dodged the bullet, literally and figuratively. In what has become one of the most infamous moments in history, Chamberlain returned to London waving around Hitler’s signature in his hand, exclaiming that he had delivered “peace for our time”… which, in retrospect he most obviously did not. The French ambassador to the conference, Édouard Daladier, however, sensed that the worst of it was yet to come, stating that he believed Hitler’s aim was, “domination of the Continent in comparison with which the likes of Napoleon were feeble”. Unfortunately, as fate would have it, Daladier was right and Chamberlain was wrong. 

By signing the Munich Agreement, Britain and France neutered Czechoslovakia by handing their most formidable defenses to Hitler. This laid the groundwork for the total annexation of Czechoslovakia by Nazi forces, which would take place the following year when the Wehrmacht entered Prague. In addition to this, virtually all of Czechoslovakia’s industries, including the Škoda Works, were made part of Hitler’s war machine, and many of the Panzers that came off of the Škoda production lines were responsible for the deaths of Allied soldiers, in addition to the capture of Paris and Warsaw. Without a doubt, the Munich Agreement set the Allies back for years in terms of their struggle with Hitler. The pact strengthened Hitler’s hand, and weakened the Allies all in one fell swoop. While the goal of “peace in our time” was a noble one, Chamberlain’s dreams of a pacifist Europe were not met by reality. Hitler was very clearly on the warpath and had Britain and France recognized that before it was too late, and had they actually lived up to the obligations they made with countries like Czechoslovakia, Hitler’s war machine may have been stopped years sooner than it was, and millions of lives would’ve been spared. The Škoda Works alone were responsible for untold carnage within the Allied ranks… the same Škoda Works that had belonged to the Allies prior to 1938.

The setting was superb. Nothing would spoil the wedding breakfast.

One of the rules of NaNo is that one writes and DOES NOT EDIT until the required minimum wordcount of 50,000 words (or end of novel, if that adds up to more) is reached. But for your sake, dear Reader, I have edited a little. Corrected spelling and typos. Otherwise it is open to revision and redoing in December

This, therefore, for good or for ill, is an excerpt from my work-in-progress: or NaNo WIP.
I hope you enjoy. It’s a miracle to witness the continuing flow, I can tell you.

All had been made ready for the guests. The bride waited at the head of the stairs

Horses and carriages stood at the gates, a long line of opulence and conspicuous wealth, each waiting its turn to process down the shady lime avenue which heralded the last mile of approach to the house.

Not a family in Aberdeenshire had been ignored. Invitations sent in January by messenger, hand delivered to Clubs and castles throughout the shire ensured that the assembled gathering would be the greatest affair in the social calendar for a generation. John Ramsay Irvine was going to make sure his daughter’s marriage was witnessed by them all. Grooms and stablehands were lined up at the curved façade to help ladies down awkward steps as consorts and cousins and brothers assisted with the finery, petticoats and layers of taffeta and veils billowing in the slight breeze.

The day was glorious: mid June brilliance with a scent of abundance in the air.

A phalanx of footmen ushered ladies into the house to powder noses, while gentlemen were escorted to the gigantic marquée set on the lawn, hands charged with a glass of champagne immediately they stepped under the awning. Butlers and footmen manfully shouldered silver trays groaning under the weight of crystal brimming with bubbles. Chatter was loud but festive. The ladies would join them in a moment. For now the tent was dominated by menfolk catching up with colleagues, discussing the week’s affairs, arrangements for the shooting season in late summer, and whose house-party already had its quota of family and summertime guests.

When the first of the ladies emerged from downstairs boudoirs and stepped into the light of the terrace, a hush descended on the crowd. Every one of them, matron, maid, young miss was adorned in finery, as if they individually were to be the bride: tiaras appeared glinting in the sun: getting a summer airing from safes and velvet boxes they’d nestled in since Christmas or for parties at Hogmanay. Pearls and rubies shone and sapphire necklaces extracted from bank vaults for this special occasion reflected blue light from the lake.

Brother Hugh stood alone, apart from the jostling crowd, waiting for a signal from his mother’s window that Catherine would soon be ready to take his arm; for him to proceed with her to the little chapel across the lawn to the glade of trees down by the lake. But carriages were still appearing, stopping at the great entrance to unload more adorned maidens with doting brothers or fiancés, and trundling slowly off to the Home Farm where grooms and drivers would wait to be summoned again after it was all over. A long procession still stretched down the lime avenue as far as Hugh could see. There was no rush yet to summon Catherine and her maids.

In the upstairs chamber with its four-poster usually reserved for her mother, Catherine stood radiant. She was to wear Great-grandfather’s South Seas pearls and the ruby necklace brought with him from Russia when he was a successful merchant plying Baltic waters to Danzig. It was now family tradition that these, the first glittering evidence of John Ramsay’s fortune, should be worn by every bride since 1758, the year that the adventurer purchased the Straloch estate from the famous cartographer, Robert Gordon of Straloch. It had been Ramsay’s fortune which built the grand mansion in its grounds.

Today Catherine felt like a swan gazing in her mother’s long dress-mirror at the sparkling jewels round her white neck. There was something about these new continental gowns, the low ‘empire’ line made fashionable by the ladies of Napoleon’s court . The British may have defeated the dictator, but his ladies’ fashion sense lingered on. The high bosom and low neckline made her feel dizzy in the shafts of sunlight glancing through the gauze curtains. It danced and shifted, casting a pool of light at her feet. She allowed herself to peer over her sudden perky breasts at the pompom slippers of maroon silk which peeped out below the vanilla silk hem of her gown. Mother was right. This new line may be a little too daring for such a backwater as Aberdeenshire, but it was just the most beautiful creation she had ever seen and she was standing in it, allowing its long pointed sleeves to hug her delicate wrists, the tight waistband to nip her small frame even more closely than she ever would have dared at a normal party.

‘Everything is allowed for a wedding, my dear. Even daring narrow waists and low necklines.’ If her mother’s voice had a hint of disapproval, it was covered by laughter. Tones tinkled in pride at the sight of her daughter’s surprise.

“We may be of merchant stock, but Grandfather knew a jewel or two. And I must say they do add a je ne sais quoi to your already fabulous beauty.’ Her mother laughed again. ‘I may not be the one to say, but it does run in the family.’

She reached out her own silk-gloved hand to caress the folds at the rear of her daughter’s gown, smoothing an imaginary crease.

Bridesmaids in the ante room behind the pillar giggled and, seeing Catherine’s mother smile and beckon, fell into the room in a huddle of lace and satin and pink pumps.

‘Careful, girls. We don’t want any accidents.’

All four glanced at each other and then at their hostess and giggled again.

‘I wish it were all over. No, of course I don’t but Hugh said he’d start the procession at least by two. It must be close to three.’ Catherine’s small face crinkled in a fleeting frown, scanning her mother’s profile. One of the house maids popped her head round the door.

‘Carriages still coming, m’lady,’ she said, bobbing a hasty curtsey. ‘Master Hugh says another glass of champagne should settle the gentlemen. He wants to know if you would like some up here.’

‘Most certainly not. Thank you, Rose. Tell the Master we shall wait for his signal.’ The maid’s head disappeared again.

‘I can see the end of the carriages.’ A tiny gloved hand holding its regulation posy of roses dropped the long curtain at the window and one of the Burnett girls burst into a fit of giggles. Another grabbed the curtain and then she too dropped it with a guilty look. She turned to the other bridesmaids and whispered
‘It’ll be the bridegroom in the very last carriage.’

‘I heard that.’

Catherine was nervous as a kitten. The last thing she wanted to know was news that that her darling, handsome husband-to-be was the last to arrive. She swept the thought aside. Henry was like her brother Hugh: so strong and brave. Such a pity Father was no longer well enough to sit up, far less be wheeled to the ceremony. But until she became Henry’s, Hugh would be her rock. He would more than make up for her father’s infirmity.

Hugh had turned out like his grandfather: he’d continued the work begun by Great-grandfather in the 244 acre estate after he built the palladian mansion, just as father and grandfather had done. Nowadays there was talk in Society of how rash a move it had been, in the time of King George III, to pull down a 13th century building and put up a Georgian palace. But Great-grandfather was an innovator. He knew all the tricks and turns used by wealthy European royalty in his day and his palace was built to the scale and proportions of the great Italian architect, Palladio, whose style thereafter became the fashion.

Straloch had been revolutionary for its time. Now in the early 19th century, It was considered ‘all the rage.’ For a wedding ceremony and breakfast attended by all the County’s best families, its size and style were totally inkeeping. It had precisely the required number of public rooms, a grand ballroom, drawing room, morning room and a dining salon that none could rival. It had outlived its ‘foreignness’ and become a style which other families copied. Burnetts and Forbeses and Irvines all had since pulled down ancient towers and put up a palladian edifice in its place: at Colpy and Keig and Pittodrie, palaces were erected where cramped medieval towers had been. The Ramsay fashion had become the norm. And in Aberdeenshire, a county renowned for its conservatism, that was saying something.

Hugh was more like father in the way he cared for and tended the trees of the avenue, the stately park specimens getting most of his love and attention. And he had recently started a programme of planting the new fashion in trees: beech.

If you listened to Hugh on the endless variety of beeches one could plant… he could bore anyone to tears. It was enough to make her yawn just to think of it. Some day, of course all this would be Hugh’s. Catherine was just fortunate to be able to have such a beautiful backdrop for her Big Day. And as for father’s being an invalid and not really able to know what was going on, was something one just had to be philosophical about. He seemed more himself when she’d spoken to him this morning, wanting to share with him the excitement to come, the huge numbers who would attend. He looked at her through watery eyes, propped himself up on one elbow from the cushions on his daybed and whispered:

‘Be still in the candlelight, Darling.’

She had not the faintest idea what he meant, but she nodded her head and kissed him on the forehead.

Suddenly Annie Farquharson jumped up and down at the window, her pink slippers doing ballet turns.

‘It’s Hugh. He’s signalling to be ready. He’s pulling out his fob watch and pointing. I think he means it’s time.’

‘All right, all right, girls. No need to lose our heads. Now, we all remember the order. When Hugh comes to the door, you four go first. Ahead of him. Follow Catherine’s cousin Jamie to the head of the stairs and wait. Do you hear me? Wait until I get there.’

There came a chorus of ‘yes’.

‘He’s coming. He’s coming,’ Annie bobbed up and down more frantic than ever.

‘All right, Annie. Now into your special order, please girls. We do this as we practiced it. All right?’

Catherine felt remarkably calm. If Hugh was ready, it meant her dear beautiful wonderful sweet loving kind fiancé Henry was already down in the woodland glade by the lake; at this very moment entering the little chapel and waiting for her. The thought made her faint with pleasure. Annie’s sister June had the presence-of-mind to prop her up. She tut-tutted her support.

There was a knock at the door and Hugh was ushered in by a dressing maid. He whispered something in Mother’s ear and looked over at his sister:

‘Ready my sweet princess? I’ve never seen you more glorious than today. Really. And I’m not being brotherly. I really mean it. You could not look more perfect. I think you are right about these new styles. It’s going to be the wedding of the century.

That’s pretty bold, she thought. This is only 1822. Surely newer fashions will one day make all this seem out of date and from a different world. Again, she brushed the unruly thought aside like a wisp of stray hair in her eye, took a step towards him and grasped his outstretched hand.

‘Thank you my darling Hugh. I would not be able to do this without you.’
He smiled and led her to the door.

Each waited her turn to descend the Great Staircase

On cue, the piper at the front door thrummed up his bagpipes and began a low drone. Catherine could see outside sunlit faces turn from the awning towards the front door.

It was beginning.

She held Hugh’s arm in a tight grasp.

‘You’ll be wonderful,’ he whispered.

She smiled up at him, wishing she could say something in return, but her eyes filled with tears and she swallowed instead.

Six pages rushed past carrying golden candelabra from the drawing room to stand in two rows down the great staircase. As one of them came abreast of her and Hugh, he tripped and looked at her wildly as if to apologize for his clumsy nervousness. His companion bent over to help him fix one of the candles which was beginning to work itself loose from its holder, its flame still alight, but shaking. As one page righted himself, the other’s grasp on his own candlestick slipped.

Catherine and Hugh could only stand and watch. In slow motion, the triple glow of golden light wrapped in cherubs and foiled bacchanalian wreaths, began a downward curve towards the staircase. Hugh grabbed his sister tightly, starting to swing her torso out of the way of the falling light. For a moment all Catherine saw was light: a small flame, so tiny it could do no harm, its glow wanting so much to add to the perfection of her day. Its fall was broken by the solid mahogany ball-and-claw knob of the bannister at the head of the stairs. Instead of cascading flame-first down the stairwell into the abyss below stairs, the dislodged candle bounced back and – oh so excruciatingly slowly – turned its menacing beam on Catherine.

Bridesmaids leapt to left and right, each trying to avoid what must happen: the staircase was in disarray. Other candles started to shake and falter.

‘Hold your lights, there’. It was Hugh’s voice, so close to her ear, but it sounded a million miles away.

Her eyes were glued to the falling candle. Why was it taking so long? It should have landed by now. By now she should be able to jump sideways and out of harm’s way. But Hugh’s arm held her tight. She was immobilized. All she could do was watch, frozen in time as the dislodged candle made a soft thump – such a simple sound – and hit the top of the staircase. Candle wax spilled in all directions, some of it sparking with a flame. One tiny spark of wax fell on the hem of her gown and she stared – her eyes wide now, her mouth open in a silent scream of terror – as flames engulfed her vanilla silk underskirts.

One of the butlers held a tray. He stood crouching back by the open door of the room they had left a moment ago. Hugh let go her arm, made a couple of strides across the landing and grabbed two champagne glasses, throwing the contents at her. He missed and the liquid splashed her arm.

‘Bring me a carafe,’ he ordered, his voice sounding more like a general in Napoleon’s army than her own gentle brother.

He grabbed another two glasses and threw. This time they hit their mark, but in the few seconds’ delay, the fire had caught hold. It was burning her silk stockings. She felt heat sear her legs. It seemed to penetrate right through to the bone. Her tears couldn’t help her. Her brother’s champagne rescue was doing a little but not enough. The candle, so small and innocent a flame, was doing its worst.

Fire raged up the front of her skirt, smoke engulfing her face, her neck, the pearl and ruby necklace. A page stumbled towards Hugh carrying a bedroom ewer, its enormous weight of water slowing him down. Hugh grabbed the jug and poured its contents down her uncomplaining front. His left hand held her steady, in case she fell from the sudden mass of water. Nobody spoke. The other pages stood motionless, still in position lining the staircase. Of four bridesmaids, two were crying and two were holding gloved hands in anguish over their open mouths. Mother had stopped rigid in her tracks halfway down the staircase. She and the pages created a flimsy barrier between Catherine and the jostling crowd of onlookers beginning to push into the main entrance hall.

All could see now: she was the centre of attention: this tragic apparition, her faultless coiffure still crowning a face ravaged by tears, sleeves and gloved hands soaking wet but intact.

Rubies glittered as if they knew red was not only a colour but a flame.

And below the waist – nothing – it was all gone. She was naked except for two charred shivering legs, a vestige of maroon slippers looking like something from the Black Death. She collapsed to the floor just as Annie rushed to cover her nakedness with her vanilla stole. The last thing she heard was her mother’s voice:

‘Give her some air. Let her breathe.’

But it was father’s words which she heard in her mind:

‘Be still in the candlelight, Darling. Be still.’

Le voile est levé sur le prochain volet de la série Total War qui sortira le 10 février 2010 et  qui aura pour cadre…

Se hizó realidad, el pasado 16 de noviembre se anunciaba oficialmente desde GMT el nuevo juego de la serie Command & Colors con ambientación napoleonica, y su inclusión dentro del sistema de pedidos P500, que hoy tres días despues ya lleva 420 ordenes.

Por lo que se indica tendrá una gran similitud con el CC:A pero con las correspondientes variantes para adaptarlo a otra época, aquí tenéis las notas del propio diseñador, Richard Borg.

“El periodo histórico Napoleonico ha sido uno de mis favoritos y en es la ambientación histórica utilizada en el segundo juego que he desarrollado usando el sistema del Command & Colors. Las reglas del C&C:N pueden parecer al principio más complejas, pero si estás familiarizado con el sistema del Command & Colors, necesitaras unicamente unos pocos pasos para tomar el Mando. Incluso si no has jugado anteriormente, aprender los fundamentos del juego es muy sencillo y puede ser un excelente descubrimiento.

Para nuestro grupo de juego en Orlando, C&C:N es uno de nuestros juegos favoritos. Hay una mezcla de elementos que lo hacen diferente a otros periodos históricos y, además, se le añade las nuevas doctrinas tácticas en Francia y en el resto de naciones que lucharon contra Napoleon.

- El periodo Napoleonico representa una mezcla única entre los roles de la Infantería, la Caballería y la Artillería en el campo de batalla.

- En Combate, la fuerza de una unidad es directamente proporcional al número de bloques representados en la unidad. Por lo tanto la perdida de bloques produce una perdida de efectividad en combate.

- Una unidad de Infanteria, en formación de cuadro, puede reducir de manera muy efectiva los efectos de las cargas de Caballería.

- La Artillería, en combinación con el uso de la Infantería o la Caballería en ataque cuerpo a cuerpo produce efectos más devastadores sobre el oponente.

- Como en otros juegos del sistema C&C, los dados de batalla resuelven rapidamente el combate y las cartas de Mando proporcionan una “niebla de guerra” y nuevas oportunidades de victoria para los jugadores.

- Cuando estás al mando, las tácticas de batalla deberas adaptarlas a las ventajas y limitaciones inerentes a cada uno de los Ejércitos Napoleonicos. Por ejemplo, como Comandante Frances deberás maniobrar tus unidades a posiciones que te permitan utilizar la bonificación de ataque cuerpo a cuerpo. El Comandante Británico deberá colocar su infanteria de linea en una posición para resitir y añadir un dado de bonificación. El resto de Naciones también poseen ventajas similares que pueden impactar en cada batalla e influenciar la forma de utilizar tu Mando sobre cada ejército.

El juego principal del C&C:Napoleonics incluye tropas Francesas, Británicas y Portuguesas, las siguientes expansiones ofrecen una mezcla de ejércitos aliados y opuestos a Napoleón.

El Periodo histórico Napoleonico es uno de mis favoritos y he estado pensando durante mucho tiempo como introducirlo en un juego, y realmente creo, despues de trabajar con los chicos de GMT en el C&C:Ancients, que esta es una manera perfecta de conseguir otro excelente juego.
Richard Borg”

El juego principal del C&C: Napoleonics contiene:

- 1 Tablero de juego que representa el Campo de Batalla.

- 4 Hojas que contienen las losetas de Terreno y marcadores de Infanteria.

- 70 Cartas de Mando.

- 8 Dados de Batalla.

- Bloques Franceses, Britanicos y Portugueses y sus correspondientes hojas de etiquetas.

- 3 Hojas de Referencia de las Naciones.

- 1 Libreto de Reglas.

- 1 Libro de Escenarios que contiene 15 escenarios.

Por ahora tiene muy buena pinta, ahora a esperar más inforamción.

by Shaun Milne

IT WAS Napoleon who famously said that an army marches on its stomach – and that’s certainly proving the case for Scots troops out in Afghanistan.

Soldiers based with 1 Scots in Helmand Province have been celebrating after the arrival of their own ‘Combat Cook’ Lance Corporal Stevie Allan.

The 23 year old Fifer – who has just deployed to Forward Operating Base Wishtan in Helmand Province – is a former Scottish junior chef of the year.

MIXING IT: Combat Chef Stevie Allan

And they are now lapping up his award winning grub including his trademark ‘Jock Pasties – filled with ham, beans and cheese.

Deployed

Just hours after jumping off a helicopter into his field kitchen, Stevie said: “I’m delighted to be back with the lads. I cooked for B Company throughout our training in Kenya before we deployed, and then back in the UK.

“I couldn’t have asked for a better group of friends. It goes beyond that though – the lads mean everything to me, they are my second family.”

L/Cpl Allan, from Kirkcaldy, is with the Royal Logistic Corps, has even been equipped with a brand new winter cookhouse from which to work.

The new kitchen has been named ‘The Jordan Rossi Cookhouse’ after Sapper Jordan Rossi, who was tragically killed by an explosion while on patrol nearby in May 2009.

It is a much needed improvement, with Stevie and his fellow chefs benefiting from greater space and better appliances, vital to feed over a hundred soldiers three times a day.

And top of the agenda is preparations for their Christmas feast and in February, a Burns Supper in the dustbowl country.

L/Cpl Allan attended Balwearie High School, Kirkcaldy, and worked initially at Stuart of Buckhaven Butchers.

Kitchen

Known as ‘Combat Chef’ among 1 SCOTS, having spent parts of pre-deployment training as a member of an Infantry platoo he is trained to handle the full range of infantry weapons, from the pistol to the grenade machine gun.

Stevie said: “One minute you could be in the kitchen, cooking away, the next minute you could be in a Sangar firing at insurgents, or find yourself sent to an isolated patrol base – you just never know.”

Due home in April, Stevie hopes to get a well earned holiday before having a crack at the notoriously difficult Royal Marines Commando course in Lympstone, Devon.

His food is currently being enjoyed by soldiers from ‘B’ Company, The Royal Scots Borderers, 1st Battalion the Royal Regiment of Scotland, during their current six month deployment.

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