Painting Challenge XVI: Soviet BA10 Armoured Car & T26 tank

This week I present a couple of armoured vehicles for my Winter War Soviets, both finished with a rough, field-applied whitewash over the standard Soviet green. This was very much a leap of faith for me. After assembly, I got the models fully painted, decaled, and weathered to the point where they looked “done”… and then deliberately smeared white paint all over them like a vandal. 

There are plenty of established whitewash techniques out there, but I ended up bodging together my own. I mixed white acrylic paint, distilled water, and airbrush flow improver in roughly equal parts. The flow improver is the unsung hero here: it reduces surface tension and stops the paint from pooling or beading. What you get is a milky glaze that needs two or three coats, depending on how heavy you want the finish. I hand-brushed it panel by panel, deliberately avoiding raised edges and high-wear areas like hatches and crew access points. The aim was that hurried, uneven, already-wearing-off look you see in historical photos. 

 

The BA-10 armoured car was developed in 1938 and produced until 1941, making it the most numerous Soviet heavy armoured car of the pre-war period, with over 3,300 built. This is the earlier BA-10 variant, descended from the BA-3 and BA-6, using the GAZ-AAA chassis and sporting improved armour up to 15mm on the front and turret. It was meant to be replaced by the BA-11 in 1941, which would have had a diesel engine and a more advanced armour layout, but the war rather rudely intervened. The BA-10 soldiered on in Red Army service until 1945, and a number were captured and pressed into Finnish service during the Winter War (at least 24 that are known of).

The T-26light infantry tank needs little introduction. Developed from the British Vickers 6-Ton, it became one of the most prolific tank designs of the interwar years. More than 11,000 were built across an eye-watering 50-plus variants, including flamethrowers, engineering vehicles, self-propelled guns, artillery tractors, and armoured carriers. Early versions had twin turrets with machine guns in each, but this is the 1939 single-turret model with the 45mm main gun, a coaxial machine gun, and an additional rear turret MG. By 1939, its armour was already starting to look thin against modern anti-tank weapons, but sheer numbers kept it relevant and deadly through the Winter War. Once again, captured vehicles were hastily repainted and used by the Finns to defend their homeland, many in service right through to the end of WWII. 

Both models are from Rubicon, and they were a pleasure to build. The BA-10 can be assembled with or without the over-tire tracks, while the T-26 kit gives you enough parts to build one of several variants on the same chassis. The instructions for each kit are very clear, but as with any plastic kit, patience is the key to success. I enjoyed making these so much that I have now bought a couple of GAZ-AA trucks from Rubicon to carry my infantry in. Gotta give Ray’s Finns something to shoot at during his Motti attacks after all. 

Painting Challenge XVI: Winter War Soviet MMG's & Mortar Teams

Fresh off the painting desk are two new Medium Machine Gun teams for my Winter War Soviets, and they’re wonderfully chunky little beasts. Each team is manning the PM M1910/30, the Russian take on Hiram Maxim’s immortal design, mounted on the distinctive wheeled Sokolov carriage. With its broad stance, solid shield, and unapologetic industrial look, this is a weapon that doesn’t mess around and dares the enemy to disagree.

The story of the gun itself is a fine example of Russian pragmatism. The Maxim had already proven its lethality across the world, but the Soviets refined it into something brutally reliable. The M1910/30 update improved sights, strengthened components, and standardised production for a Red Army that expected to fight in appalling conditions. The Sokolov mount, complete with gun shield, reflected lessons learned the hard way: crews needed mobility, stability, and at least a sporting chance of not being immediately shot while doing their job.

Then came the Winter War, where theory met the indomitable Finns. In the forests and frozen lakes of the Karelian Isthmus, these Maxims were often dug in low, their wheels partially buried or removed altogether to reduce silhouettes. Crews camouflaged shields with whitewash or snow-covered cloth, and firing positions were carefully sited to dominate narrow approaches through woods and villages. Ammunition had to be kept warm to prevent stoppages, and gunners learned to balance sustained fire with the brutal reality of freezing metal and exhausted men.

Also completed this week is a Soviet light mortar team. The main Soviet 50mm mortars used in the 1939/40 Winter War were the RM-38, RM-39, and the more common RM-40, all part of a series developed for infantry support, though they were complex and proved underpowered because the shell contained less high explosive than some hand grenades. They had a maximum range of around 800 meters, but the effective range was much shorter, generally around 100-400 meters. Later in WWII the 50mm was phased out in favour of heavier models such as the 82mm, which had a much more useful maximum range of 3000 meters. 

Painting these teams really drove home how central weapons like this were to Soviet tactics during the conflict. They’re not flashy units, but they’re the backbone: defensive anchors, ambush enablers, and morale breakers all rolled into one oil-soaked package. On the tabletop, they’ll do exactly what the real ones did, lock down ground and punish movement.

Painting Challenge XVI: Soviet Winter War Infantry

This year’s project for the Analogue Hobbies Painting Challenge marches straight into the deep snow of Northern Europe and the Winter War between the Soviet Union and Finland. The action took place, as the name suggests, in the winter of 1939–40. Once again, I’m painting the Russians, while Ray takes on the Finns. All of the figures for these first units are from Parkfield Miniatures, although later units may include specialist reinforcements drafted in from other ranges. One of the real joys of this period is that it gives us a second use for all the 28mm winter terrain we’ve already built for last year's project, Napoleon's Retreat from Moscow. 

Historically, the Winter War began in the uneasy aftermath of the Molotov–Ribbentrop Pact, when Nazi Germany and the Soviet Union calmly agreed on who would menace whom. Stalin, peering nervously at maps, decided that Finland’s proximity to Leningrad was intolerable. The Finns were newly independent and understandably unimpressed by Soviet demands for territorial concessions. Diplomacy collapsed, and in November 1939, the Red Army rolled across the border in what Moscow insisted was a defensive measure, and everyone else recognised as an invasion. 

 

What followed took place in some of the most brutal winter conditions ever endured by modern armies. Temperatures dropped to –30°C and below, turning weapons brittle, engines temperamental, and exposed skin into an invitation to frostbite. Soviet planners expected a swift victory, assuming that mass, armour, and artillery would quickly overwhelm a small, lightly equipped opponent. What they hadn’t factored in was Finland’s near-mythical familiarity with its own landscape. Forests, frozen lakes, and endless snow weren’t obstacles; they were tools. Finnish units moved on skis, vanished into tree lines, and struck where Soviet formations were weakest, turning the environment itself into a weapon.

 

The war’s narrative divides neatly into two acts: the Soviet disaster and the Soviet recovery. Early operations saw Red Army columns funnelled along narrow forest roads, where Finnish troops cut supply lines and isolated units using “motti” tactics, breaking larger formations into smaller, doomed pockets. The results were humiliating and costly. By early 1940, though, the Soviets adapted. Leadership improved, artillery was concentrated, and sheer industrial weight was brought to bear against the Mannerheim Line. Finland fought with extraordinary determination, but numbers and firepower eventually told. The Moscow Peace Treaty ended the war in March 1940, forcing Finland to give up territory while retaining its independence, a bitter compromise, but one that stunned the world.

The contrast between the two armies is part of what makes the Winter War so compelling, both historically and on the tabletop. The Soviet Union had vast resources but suffered from rigid doctrine, poor preparation, and an officer corps hollowed out by purges. Finnish forces were outnumbered, under-equipped, and often improvising—this is, after all, the conflict that popularised the Molotov cocktail—but they had experience, initiative, and morale in abundance. They were defending their homes, their freedom, and a way of life. 

As you would expect, my soviet forces consist of a lot of infantry. I have started with a Platoon HQ unit and two light machine gun squads. I have several more primed and waiting in the wings, along with some support weapons and some armour.