I found this video on YouTube showing a working Stug G at Tankfest (Bovington). I've not seen a moving example before, and given my current painting project I found this quite interesting to watch.
"The StuG was an assault gun based on the chassis of the panzer 3. This example was restored by the Sd.Kfz foundation, it had sat on the bed of the black sea for 60 years after its transport ship was torpedoed by a Russian submarine. Two were raised a few years ago but the other one has not been restored yet."
Saturday, 4 July 2009
Friday, 3 July 2009
StuG Platoon
I've started working on my first 15mm models; the resin StuG G's from the Open Fire box set and a command StuG from the Panzer Kanonen boxed set. I'm taking my time with these as I'm entering new territory. The Resin models just needed a wash and the turrets Superglued into place before undercoating (black as usual for me). The other vehicle has more metal parts and they need some cleaning up before I attempt assembly and undercoating.
The Sturmgeschutz III was originally conceived as a close-support and mechanised artillery vehicle. However it swiftly migrated toward the anti-tank role after the Germans encounter with the soviet KV-1 & T-34 tanks on the Eastern Front. In line with the general trend toward heavier armour and armament, a new vehicle based on the StuG Ausf. F was designed, mounting the 105mm FH 18 howitzer. This version of the StuG was designated Sturmhaubitze (StuH 42) and saw its first action in November 1942. Coming off the assembly-line in December 1942, the Ausf G was fitted with a 75 mm StuK 40 L/48 anti-tank gun and was produced until the end of the war with no major changes to the design.
"The vehicles of the Sturmgeschütz series were cheaper and faster to build than contemporary German tanks; at 82,500 RM, a StuG III Ausf G was cheaper than a Panzer III Ausf. M which cost 103,163 RM to build. By the end of the war, 10,619 StuG III and StuH 42 had been built. This was due to the omission of the turret, which greatly simplified manufacture and allowed the chassis to carry a larger gun than it could otherwise." (Source: Wikipedia)
The Sturmgeschutz III was originally conceived as a close-support and mechanised artillery vehicle. However it swiftly migrated toward the anti-tank role after the Germans encounter with the soviet KV-1 & T-34 tanks on the Eastern Front. In line with the general trend toward heavier armour and armament, a new vehicle based on the StuG Ausf. F was designed, mounting the 105mm FH 18 howitzer. This version of the StuG was designated Sturmhaubitze (StuH 42) and saw its first action in November 1942. Coming off the assembly-line in December 1942, the Ausf G was fitted with a 75 mm StuK 40 L/48 anti-tank gun and was produced until the end of the war with no major changes to the design."The vehicles of the Sturmgeschütz series were cheaper and faster to build than contemporary German tanks; at 82,500 RM, a StuG III Ausf G was cheaper than a Panzer III Ausf. M which cost 103,163 RM to build. By the end of the war, 10,619 StuG III and StuH 42 had been built. This was due to the omission of the turret, which greatly simplified manufacture and allowed the chassis to carry a larger gun than it could otherwise." (Source: Wikipedia)
There is an interesting article about the StuG G on the FoW Website. I also found some interesting pictures of the StuG G (and other variations) on the Achtung Panzer website.
Thursday, 2 July 2009
The Chase
Today I thought I'd share a piece of short fiction that I wrote when I created my home grown D&D setting, The Isles of Ethos. It was inserted in a printed Setting Guide I gave to my players before we started the campaign. Magic Users have a hard time of things in my world, with prejudice and suspicion directed at them (not entirely undeservedly) on a regular basis. I wanted anyone that played a Mage in my game to be under no illusions as to what they were getting themselves into.
Favion’s lungs felt like they were about to burst out of his chest. The muscles in his legs burned with the exertion, but he had to force himself to keep running. He stumbled over a pile of rubbish lying in the street and crashed into a wall. Temporarily dazed he drew in a few quick breaths to clear his head. In the distance he could hear the sound of running feet and the assorted cries of the mob. Tears of frustration and fear welled up in his eyes but the young Magi fought them back and began running again. He had grown up in the city but now he didn't know where he was. In the dark the city was a stranger to him. His quite life of study and discipline now looked as if it would end with a premature and pointless death.
The fine robes that marked him out as a Mage Acolyte were streaked with filth. Blood, from a cut above his eye, flowed freely down his face staining the high white colour of his shirt. He had been lucky to have survived this long. When he had been surrounded by the Followers of Manifest Destiny fear had immediately filled his heart. But he had kept his mind clear and when they attacked he was able to use his arts to buy time for escape. Favion’s legs felt like lead now. He couldn't run for much longer and when he stopped the mob would be on him. He skidded into an ally and made one final effort. His legs gave way and he crumpled down in a doorway totally spent. He was now too exhausted for tears, each breath was agony and with each moment he could hear death approaching.
How had it come to this, he asked himself. He had started the day full of optimism. His new robes had arrived from the tailors and having now come of age the way was open for him to take his studies to the next level. Proud and eager he had donned his robes and gone out to buy new materials. He had almost finished his shopping and headed down to the dockside. Heading off of Fish Street and into the maze of little shops Favion crossed into the market square. Immediately he was aware of many eyes watching him and it was clear they were not admiring his gold and purple robes. Mumbled words quickly turned to angry shouts and then Favion found himself surrounded. He knew he was in trouble immediately. The followers of Manifest Destiny, the Manifestors, hated wizards and blamed them for the cataclysm. Some cities were virtual no-go areas for wizards but Deephaven had always been cosmopolitan and tolerant. But down here by the docks many sailors from other islands mingled with the crowds of city folk. It was a tanned and scarred sailor that roused the crowd against him and sent him running for his life through the streets of a city he called home.
Lost in his pain and self pity he was caught completely off guard when the door behind him swung open. Panic entered his heart as several hands gripped his robes and he was hauled unceremoniously inside the building. The door was quickly shut plunging Favion into utter darkness. He struggled free of the hands and shuffled back across a polished wooden floor. Brief thoughts of fighting his way out were quashed with the sound of the doors bolts being thrown. Whispered voices echoed in the dark and when he tried to speak a hand was thrust over his mouth. "Be quite you fool or you will kill us all" hissed a woman’s voice. Favion’s eyes were by now growing accustomed to the darkness and in the cave like gloom he could make out two adult figures, one obviously a woman. His captors stopped whispering as the sound of running feet approached. Many people were passing by and from their tone it was clear this was the mob that had hunted Favion.
The fine robes that marked him out as a Mage Acolyte were streaked with filth. Blood, from a cut above his eye, flowed freely down his face staining the high white colour of his shirt. He had been lucky to have survived this long. When he had been surrounded by the Followers of Manifest Destiny fear had immediately filled his heart. But he had kept his mind clear and when they attacked he was able to use his arts to buy time for escape. Favion’s legs felt like lead now. He couldn't run for much longer and when he stopped the mob would be on him. He skidded into an ally and made one final effort. His legs gave way and he crumpled down in a doorway totally spent. He was now too exhausted for tears, each breath was agony and with each moment he could hear death approaching.
How had it come to this, he asked himself. He had started the day full of optimism. His new robes had arrived from the tailors and having now come of age the way was open for him to take his studies to the next level. Proud and eager he had donned his robes and gone out to buy new materials. He had almost finished his shopping and headed down to the dockside. Heading off of Fish Street and into the maze of little shops Favion crossed into the market square. Immediately he was aware of many eyes watching him and it was clear they were not admiring his gold and purple robes. Mumbled words quickly turned to angry shouts and then Favion found himself surrounded. He knew he was in trouble immediately. The followers of Manifest Destiny, the Manifestors, hated wizards and blamed them for the cataclysm. Some cities were virtual no-go areas for wizards but Deephaven had always been cosmopolitan and tolerant. But down here by the docks many sailors from other islands mingled with the crowds of city folk. It was a tanned and scarred sailor that roused the crowd against him and sent him running for his life through the streets of a city he called home.
Lost in his pain and self pity he was caught completely off guard when the door behind him swung open. Panic entered his heart as several hands gripped his robes and he was hauled unceremoniously inside the building. The door was quickly shut plunging Favion into utter darkness. He struggled free of the hands and shuffled back across a polished wooden floor. Brief thoughts of fighting his way out were quashed with the sound of the doors bolts being thrown. Whispered voices echoed in the dark and when he tried to speak a hand was thrust over his mouth. "Be quite you fool or you will kill us all" hissed a woman’s voice. Favion’s eyes were by now growing accustomed to the darkness and in the cave like gloom he could make out two adult figures, one obviously a woman. His captors stopped whispering as the sound of running feet approached. Many people were passing by and from their tone it was clear this was the mob that had hunted Favion.
After what seemed an age to the young Magi the sounds outside died away and his captors let out a collective sigh of relief. The hand was removed from his mouth. "Where am I?" he managed to say. Again the woman’s voice "You are safe from the Manifestors. This is the house of Gilalian, and I am his Life Mate, Freneya". Across the room a Lamp fluttered into life and the fine features of a young Elven woman appeared before him. "We will tend your wounds and then Gilalian will make sure you get home safely. But first we will have to do something about those ridiculous robes of yours."
Wednesday, 1 July 2009
Rampage 09 - Pt 5
This is the concluding part of my picture review of Rampage 09 . Monday I focused on the Dambusters game by Whitsable and Hern Bay Wargame Club. On Tuesday I looked at the Brécourt Manor Assault which was run by Horchurch Wargames Club. I also looked at a game run by Dagenham Wargames Club. This post is a selection of pictures of the other games also on display including another WWII game, Pirates of the Cursed Seas, Wings of War and Warhammer 40k.
This game was Big Cats & Hedgerows by Enfield Wargamers. Again I liked the attention to detail with this game.
This is a Wings of War game run by South East Essex Military Society.
A Pirates of the Cursed Seas game run by Graves End Gamers Guild. 
Truk Waagh! by Braintree Wargames Group.
I've put a Picas Album up now will all the photo's shown plus a few more.
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