Jeff Brown, Chris Donovan, and I got together to play A3 Descent Into Hell. This is a three map scenario showing two separate German glider landings against New Zealand defenders on Crete. It combines the first two scenarios in the '89 Annual into an "ideal team game" (according to the scenario; after playing it, I agree). Victory is judged separately in the two different parts of the game, with a sweep required to win. A split is a draw. Jeff and Chris divided the Germans, while I was the Kiwis. Just for laughs, we each added a "personal" 7-0 to the game, and tracked their Elan/Cowardice as per the old SL campaign system (updated in the '95 Annual).
As you read my account of what happened, bear in mind that I enjoyed what were unquestionably the hottest dice of my ASL career throughout this game. It seemed like I couldn't avoid rolling "3's" when I needed them ... especially at the very end of the game, when my guys turned what looked like a certain draw into a ridiculously unlikely win.
The scenario opened with twelve German gliders landing near Maleme airfield, which was defended by three 40L AA guns and several squads, including the soon-to-be-famous (infamous?) Cpl Derrick. AA fire was desultory, and the gliders landed largely without incident (although part of Chris' wing overshot their landing hex and came down off board, which delayed their involvement in the action). For awhile it was "Descent Into (Rules) Hell," but we hacked through the glider rules with the help of Curt Schilling's article from the '96 Annual, and it really wasn't too bad.
With the Germans down, they began their (cautious) approach to the airfield. We quickly saw that where the AA guns were ineffective against the gliders (which landed well away from the airfield and out of my initial covered arc, forcing long range shots with penalties for turning my guns around), they were hideously effective using IFE against infantry trying to advance across the largely open ground toward their objectives. Early on, one of the guns held ROF for at least a half-dozen shots, reducing a stack of Chris' elites to a disorganized, gibbering mob, including the first and most grievous wound to his beloved Cpl Kreiser (more about him later). When the dust died down and the Germans were still separated by deadly open ground from their best jumping-off points for the assault on the airfield, it looked like the Kiwis' could count on victory at Maleme.
This is a two-part scenario, however, and the second part had yet to begin. A second wing of nine gliders dropped on Tavrontis Bridge on turn four ... literally. Gliders have to land into the wind, and the wind shifted just before the gliders came on board (how often does the damn wind change at all, much less when it matters?), allowing the gliders to land DIRECTLY ON THE BRIDGE, in a neat little row. Even an unexpected gust couldn't upset the Teutontic efficiency of the wing, who emerged en mass from their gliders and popped off devastating advancing fire against the stunned New Zealanders, who saw their carefully constructed bridge defense undone in a moment. We were set up to prevent an approach to the bridge, not to attack the bridge itself, which provides excellent cover for anyone on it. Sigh.
The recently-landed Germans made short work of my defenders (despite some dicey CC in one of the buildings, and repeated shots at my guys in a foxhole overlooking the bridge ... they refused to die, but they stayed broken, all the way to the last turn, when the wounded leader on the spot boxcared a rally attempt for the second time and died on a "4" wound severity roll ... we figured he went off his nut and executed a swan dive off the cliff into the dry river below). Near the airfield, the German advance had ground to a halt, although Jeff's Cpl. Engelke was piling up the Elan like mad, including one neat bit where he gunned down some escaping Kiwis pickets who had been taken prisoner before the German advance ran out of steam. Despite Engelke's "heroics," Maleme was secure, so I decided to run a squad and a leader across the board to "relieve" my guys who were getting slaughtered at the bridge. What the hell ... it was worth a try.
And much to my surprise, they made it, but not before surviving some point-blank fire from Chris' stragglers on the hill, including a hopeless CC attack by Chris' Cpl. Kreiser, who was by this point several times wounded and tagged with eight cowardice points, having watched three squads under his command get shredded by 40L fire from the airfield. Kreiser just couldn't live with the shame, I guess ... with Luger blazing, he limped into the cauldron and went down in a hail of grenades, a frothy "Sieg Heil!" dying on his lips. At least Chris won't be saddled with this anchor in the next game of the campaign. Kreiser's death helped distract us all from the very real possibility that my guys could spoil the German victory at the bridge by ducking into the victory area on the last move.
Meanwhile, back at the airfield, my opportunistic Cpl. Derrick had slunk out of concealment to direct AA fire at Chris's shattered glider troops still clinging to the forest atop a near-by hill. Several hot dice shots followed, and Derrick cherry-picked about a half-dozen Elan points. A hail of fire in return served to pin, but not break, the plucky Derrick, who later scurried back to cover in a building, content to ride out the engagement half-way to a cheaply-won promotion.
Action near the bridge gets hazy at this point. I managed to advance my squad into victory position (although by this time it was whittled down to a LMG-toting HS, with the leader cowering in a farmhouse), while the rest of the Germans were mopping up the remains of my original bridge defense. The last turn of the game saw my HS (in open ground, mind you) survive a 9 -1 shot (we use the IIFT, and haven't gone blind yet) in the PFPh, then break two German squads moving adjacent by maintaining ROF with their LMG, including snakes on the last shot to knock out a squad and a leader that would certainly have finished them in CC. It was the luckiest damn streak of my ASL life.
Back at Maleme, with all hope of even a draw gone up in smoke, the Germans cried "Vengeance!", and pulled out all the stops to kill Cpl. Derrick. Stacks of Germans fell prey to my killstack as they sprinted across open ground, heedless of danger. A German 8-1 advanced into CC, but the wily Derrick remembered that he was from New Zealand, and hence ANZAC ... and hence Stealthy, which earned him an ambush. I thought about retreating Derrick before CC, but killing that German officer would mean a promotion, my dice were hot, and Derrick really didn't deserve the success he'd poached to that point. So, I went for it, and of course Derrick came through, leaping from a closet to brain the reckless German leader from behind, simultaneously killing his opponent and running his Elan total to 11.
Result: victory for the Kiwis in the scenario, a promotion for Cpl. (now Sgt.) Derrick, and near defenestration at the hands of my opponents, who by this point had suffered all they could handle of my hot dice.
The record reflects that this scenario often ends in a draw, and I can see why ... unless the Germans are very aggressive in their landing at the airfield, they don't have much chance on that side of the board. Most players, being new to gliders, will be cautious and land well away from the field, but during our post-game debriefing we agreed that for the Germans to have a chance, they have to trust to moderate dust on the first couple turns to land right on the airfield, even on the runway itself, and hope the AA guns don't take too terrible a toll. If the Germans aren't at the fringe of the field by the time the dust dies down, they'll have very little chance of knocking out all three AA guns in the time provided.
On the other hand, the German assault on the bridge is pretty wicked, especially when Germans can peel off from the first landing and flank the defenders on that side of the board. There's no way I should have won the victory conditions on that side of the board, especially with those damn gliders landing oh-so-sweetly, nose-to-tail, on the bridge itself, but what can I say ... I'd rather be lucky than good.
My dice notwithstanding, we had a great time. It was one of those improbable "war movie" scenarios that keeps pulling me (at least) back to this game time and again.
Gliders are cool, too. Read Curt's article in the Annual, then check them out.
Paul O'Connor