I have at various times been accused of being a warmonger
because I like to play wargames or perhaps more politically correct military
simulations. I really think liking or disliking war itself has nothing to do
with my enjoyment of playing these types of games. I don’t like war, I’m not
a veteran, I have not had someone shoot at me. I don’t know what’s like to hear
the scream of an artillery shell coming, followed by an explosion that rocks
the ground around me. I may not agree with my government’s decision to go to
war but I will always support the brave men and women who have volunteered to
do just that when so commanded. None of that has anything to do playing
wargames, whether it’s a board game or with miniatures.
I play because I like history, I like the challenge of
seeing whether I can do better or something different that brings me a victory
on our cloth covered fields of battle. There is no noise, there is no blood
spilled, at the end of the game counters go back in the box or troops go back
into their storage trays ready for my next foray into the desert
of North Africa , the fields of France or the
islands of the Pacific. Mostly it’s the history that I enjoy, researching
uniforms and orders of battle. I like to dive deep, to discern the
causes of a given conflict or action to give a bit more meaning to the actions
I have chosen to recreate. I love to paint miniatures and the research that
goes along with that. At times there is frustration with that kind of research like
trying to get any information on the flags used by Denmark during their period
of heavy involvement in the thirty years war (at which time I found out that the
best information on Danish flags from that period was in Swedish museums). I can’t
even count the numbers of troops I have painted over the course of 30 years but
it has to be pushing close to 10,000 when I think about the armies that I have
bought, painted, sold and started over again.
Although I have not served myself, I am a Marine Corps brat
and probably spent more time in the base hospital at Camp Pendleton
than your average Marine. My father was a Marine Corps Officer and I was but a
signature away at one point of joining. My oldest son’s best friend is a
Marine, my girlfriend’s oldest son is a Marine. I have friends and
acquaintances that were in the Marines, the Army, the Navy and the Airforce
(the one that served in a boomer is a little weird though ;-) ). A number of
them served in Vietnam , Panama , the Gulf War, Somalia ,
Afghanistan and Iraq . I have
not lost a friend in combat though and I hope not to. I have three great uncles
that served in WWII, one in the First Armored Division in North Africa and Italy . Another
was in the 8th Air Force, 390th Heavy Bombardment Group
flying into Germany
in the nose of a B-17 as a bombardier. The youngest was in an infantry division
in the Pacific and fought and died during the re-invasion of the Philippines .
Obviously I only knew two of those uncles, but I have Uncle Stanley’s Wings and
Uncle Donald’s purple heart. Those are things that remind me that what I do is
just a game and will never be more than a game. I fully appreciate that at
times real people have to put their lives on the line so that I can continue to
do what I do. I’m pretty sure that does not make me a warmonger.