Sunging in the Rain

As we roll inexorably towards the end of the line for DBM 3.1, the Politburo of Central London meet in a darkened room, under a gathering fogging cloud produced by the furious chain smoking of filthy unfiltered cigarettes.

"So Comrades, we have a choice. DBM 3.1 will be dead for sure next year, and revolution will be in the air. The world will be in flames, there will be massive social upheaval as the very fabric of the world wargaming society will be rent asunder. We face the prospect of the competition landscape being changed forever."

"Ermmmm, So what? Whatever rules we play, there will still be beer, late nights, looking rough in the morning, and trying to avoid that tiresome tosser who corners you in a pub at lunchtime with extreme halitosis whilst wittering on about his bad dice in a game of Napoleonics at the Assembly Rooms in Derby in 1974?"

"Yes Comrade - but with a new set of rules, we may actually need to think about the games a little – no autopilot functionality until we learn them. This could seriously cut down on the drinking & clubbing time – and (dare I say it) we might even start to enjoy the gaming again as well!"

"Yeah, and who cares about winning anyway – we always have the fallback that we will all still do better than Martin van Tol whatever the rules!" 

"Sorry Comrade – that was out of order. Starting a sentence with "Yeah" is a bourgeoisie reactionary counterrevolutionary action suitable only for Colonials, teenagers and players of Flames of War – any repeat and you are out."

 "Sorry,….."

"So, back to business. 3.1 s dead, no-one has any vision of what might happen next year – so my proposal is that this year is officially defined as a Year of Nostalgia. We try and do the Classic Competition Circuit. And in February that can only mean Burton Doubles."

"But the alternative is Cannes …..?"

"Are you the Comrade who said "Yeah" just 2 minutes ago…..?"

"Erm, well, erm….I see what you mean. Burton it is then. Can we take one of my armies though...?"

……………

So, we set off for Burton in two separate convoys, one pushing up from the East under Marshall Von Tol, and an earlier advance column from the West driven by Commissar Holmes.

The Western Armies arrived at the Town gates as dusk fell. Although we wouldn’t have known, as we were in the bar even before we had fully checked in…. Several pints of Burton Bridge Porter later, and the forces had split, one seeking out more liquid refreshment, and another digging into a slice of Italy. We then descended on a nightclub and got our first taste of things to come: the cocktail of the Week was the

Burton Slapper.

Only £1.50 All Night

While Stocks Last

From what we could see, stocks would not run out anytime soon....