How a Spare Room Changed my Hobby

This week, I revisit a topic that’s close to every miniature wargamer’s heart—even if we don’t always say it out loud: the dream of having a dedicated hobby space. A place where the clatter of dice and the faint whiff of acrylic paint mingle like incense in a temple to plastic and pewter. The idea came from @LorenzoFourth, who recently watched a nearly five-year-old video I made when I first unveiled my dedicated hobby room—what I rather dramatically dubbed the "Operations Room." He asked a simple question: “How is the Ops Room five years on?”

Well… it’s full. Gloriously, unashamedly full. But also far better organised, more functional, and—somehow—still evolving. I took the opportunity to rewatch that old video and laughed immediately. Not just at my younger, slimmer self, but at the optimism I once had about all the “spare” storage space. Spoiler: it’s gone. All those empty drawers and shelves filled up in no time at all.

Still, the bones of the room held up well. My metal storage cabinets have done sterling work, and the biggest upgrade has been the painting area—better lighting, real paint racks, and most importantly, a layout that doesn’t involve knocking over half the desk just to find a bottle of Burnt Umber. Of course, to install the racks, I had to relocate my Blandford books, which now live on some budget faux-leather shelves tucked into a corner. 

Another win was finally adding an MDF topper to my old gaming table. It’s still not huge, but it’s 50% bigger and has made both hobbying and working from home much easier. Yes, I work from here too—this table has seen both dice and spreadsheets, and sometimes both at once. The lesson? Flexibility is key. Whatever space you have, whether it’s a spare room, shed, or attic nook, it’ll change. You’ll run out of space. You’ll find better storage. You’ll wish you’d bought more drawers. The trick is to tidy and reorganise regularly, or risk being buried under an avalanche of unpainted projects and terrain you forgot you built.

And while I joke about eyeing up my daughter’s room for “Operations Room Mk II,” I genuinely appreciate the space I have. Not everyone gets a whole room to themselves, and I never take mine for granted. Most importantly, having a dedicated space lets me focus. It’s where I film videos, paint miniatures, and momentarily escape real life. Without it, I doubt this channel would even exist.

So if you’ve got a corner to call your own, guard it well. And if you don’t, find one. Even the smallest space can become a sanctuary for the imagination. And thank you, Lorenzo, for the question that sparked all this. Now, your turn: what’s your hobby setup like?

A Taste of Typhoons and Trouble: A Rapid Fire Reloaded WWII Game

Over the weekend, a few of the Rejects dusted off the 15mm figures and came together for a rare WWII game—this time using Rapid Fire Reloaded. I picked up the rules earlier this year and had been itching to give them a proper run out. So, when Dan offered to host a game, I jumped at the chance. What followed was a cracking game—full of drama, unexpected twists, some triumphs, and (as always) a healthy serving of carnage. In short, it was everything a good wargame should be.

Our scenario came straight from one of the Rapid Fire Reloaded scenario books, focusing on the period between 6th and 9th June 1944—just days after the D-Day landings. British and Canadian forces were pushing inland from the beaches, facing stiff resistance as they tried to break out. Our game was set on the 9th and featured the 9th Canadian Infantry Brigade, supported by British armour, advancing inland from Juno Beach.

Historically, the Sherbrooke Fusiliers and the Nova Scotia Highlanders had pushed a bit too far ahead of their artillery support and stumbled—rather unpleasantly—into elements of the newly arrived 12th SS Panzer Division. The SS, showing unnerving fire discipline, let the Canadians roll past their concealed positions before opening fire and causing utter mayhem. The result? The Canadians were cut off and forced to withdraw. It would take over a month before this ground was retaken.

Thankfully, things unfolded a little differently on our table...

How Not to Launch an Armoured Assault

Our game kicked off with the Allied vanguard under Stuart (aka Postie), consisting of a Recce Squadron of Stuart tanks, a Carrier Platoon with infantry, an Anti-tank battery of M10s, and a support company fielding a 6pdr and a 3" mortar. Stuart wasted no time and promptly pressed down the road towards Authie, with the objective tantalisingly close beyond.

Meanwhile, I commanded the main force, made up of three squadrons of Shermans (each handily equipped with a Firefly for that extra "knock-out punch") and a HQ platoon in carriers, complete with a 2" mortar, a PIAT team, and a bonus 75mm Sherman. Thinking myself rather clever, I swung the main force to the left to outflank what I suspected was a weak German position in the centre. I had visions of a sweeping advance, tanks charging heroically through cornfields, and a quick victory. What I actually got was a faceful of hidden SS Panzer Regiment, lying in wait like a bunch of patient crocodiles in a swamp.

The trap was sprung with cinematic brutality. In an instant, I lost my commanding officer, a Sherman, and—tragically—a Firefly. The road was now blocked with burning wrecks, and I was staring down the barrels of concealed German guns from heavy woodland. So much for my grand tactical outflanking manoeuvre. If this were a Hollywood movie, the dramatic music would have cut out and been replaced by a sad trombone.

Back near Authie, Stuart was having a hard time of his own. Trying to get infantry into hard cover while dodging fire from two AT guns and a squadron of Panzer IVs isn’t what you'd call a relaxing afternoon. One of our M10s was quickly brewed up, and for a brief moment, I was genuinely worried the game might be over before we’d even cracked open the biscuits. But then... the dice gods changed their minds.

A turn of appallingly ineffective fire from Steve (commanding the Germans) gave us the breathing space we needed. Stuart made the most of the opportunity with some excellent dice rolls—knocking out a couple of Panzer IVs and, in a moment of pure vindication, taking out a German 105mm howitzer. The tide, it seemed, was turning.

In keeping with the real Normandy campaign, we Allies had the upper hand in the air. And thanks to scenario rules, we were granted access to that iconic symbol of Allied support: the mighty Typhoon. Well, it looked mighty... until we used it. Despite calling in airstrikes on three separate occasions, we failed to hit a single thing. Not so much "Death from Above" as "Mild Inconvenience from a Distance." Eventually, the Typhoon was brought down by German AA fire, at which point I considered trading in my pilot's wings for a bus ticket home. Still, at least we tried. Repeatedly. And failed. Repeatedly.

As the game wore on, our situation improved. Despite my earlier blunder, having my tank force bogged down by the 12th SS may have worked to our advantage in a weird, wargamer’s version of accidental genius. By engaging them early—though unintentionally—we blunted their ambush. Had they waited until we were fully committed down the centre, they'd have been shooting into our sides and rear armour. Instead, we faced them head-on and slowly but surely began knocking them out one by one.

By this point, we'd seriously depleted the German armour. The battlefield was littered with burning wrecks, and the Allies were (somewhat battered but still breathing) in control of key positions. Cruicially, there was nothing between us and our ultimate objective at Franqueville. With the game tipping firmly in our favour, Steve sensibly decided that the Germans would have withdrawn and conceded the ground.

Final Thoughts

Considering how the game started—with burning Shermans, a dead CO, and a failed airstrike—I don’t think Stuart or I saw victory on the cards. But that's the joy of wargaming: just when things look bleak, the dice throw you a lifeline, your opponent has a wobbly turn, and your Firefly remembers how to aim.

All in all, it was a thoroughly enjoyable game with good friends, great models, and more drama than a Sunday night war film. Rapid Fire Reloaded worked brilliantly, and I’m already itching to get it back on the table again... Minus the uncooperative Typhoon! Indeed, I'm considering how I can use these rules with my 6mm North Africa collection, which hasn't seen the light of day in many years. 

Until then, keep your dice high and your morale higher!

Struggling with rules: Watch This

Struggling to learn new wargame rules? You’re not alone—and in this video, I share my honest journey through the rulebook fog and how I finally found ways to make the rules stick. Whether you’re trying to grasp the basics of a new historical wargame or hoping to become confident enough to teach rules to your gaming group, this video is packed with practical tips and personal experiences to help.

 

Budget Terrain for our Retreat from Moscow Project

Recently, Ray and I spent a full day tackling a big part of our ongoing Retreat from Moscow tabletop wargaming project: creating a massive winter wargaming mat and winterising a collection of custom-built river terrain. The result was a dramatic snowy battlefield for a fraction of the cost of a commercial gaming mat, plus a set of icy rivers ready for Napoleonic misery. 

Rather than spending £100+ on a commercially available snow mat, we went down the DIY route using a large white fleece throw as our base. Fleece is a brilliant option for terrain builders—it’s lightweight, flexible, absorbs paint well, and drapes naturally over hills, books, or other sub-surface terrain features.

We laid the fleece out on a flat surface and began building up layers of paint. The goal was to replicate the subtle variations you get in real snow—areas of slush, icy shadows, windblown drifts, and patches of churned-up mud or earth. We used diluted grey, brown, and white emulsion, lightly sponged and brushed to avoid flattening the texture. The key to success here was patience. We worked in layers, letting each dry before adding the next. This not only gave the mat a convincing natural look but also helped prevent it from becoming stiff.

Once the mat was complete, we turned our attention to a set of river sections we’d commissioned some time ago from Last Valley, who do superb custom terrain. These rivers needed a serious cold-weather makeover to match our new snowy setting. We added sand and grit to add texture to the earth areas, and when dry, we painted them with Earth Brown. Then a quick drybrush of white emulsion added a frosty 'frozen earth' look. The last step was adding our snow mix and frost grass tufts. 

The fleece cost £20, and we probably spent about £50 on paint and tools, so this was significantly cheaper than buying a commercial battle mat. More importantly, it has been painted to our specific requirements and is 7ft by 7ft, ample for our needs. 

If you want to see the results for yourself, check out the YouTube Short! We packed the highlights of the process into a quick clip.