Neither Crapaud Force nor the "Not those Carlists" LDV had the forces to outdistance J and his mounted troops, nor RDR-2's frantically running (and charioteering) Lew Wallace Memorial boys. After a brief exchange of fire between their forces, differing tactics became clear. Crapaud Force advanced warily behind J's politically confused Spaniards, hoping that the "initial wave" of attacks would be broken by the Committee's firepower. Carl and his "Not those Carlists" LDV, however, possibly driven mad by their long-running battle with the Lower Course tank and benefiting from some long range weapons, took to bombarding the "front runners" from behind with great glee - particularly Carl's old friend, RDR-2. Whatever the tactical thinking, perhaps not so tactful in relation to a man who was due to give you a lift home later....
Gee-up! Whipcrack away! RDR-2's 28mm commander, juddering along on his artillery limber, well saw that he was being outpaced by the faster moving mounted troops of J's force, and knew that he could expect no mercy from behind. Forward! Faster! Into the teeth of fire from the defending Committee! Onwards on the Fairway of Death!
The lead horse of the artillery team went down; then another. The remainder stumbled, recovered, gathered themselves for the final gallop and.....
An artillery shell landed slap bang on top of them.
The brave 28mm commander was obliterated in an instant; in a tangle of leather straps and drivers and mangled horseflesh, in that but one explosive instant, both the leader and the dreams of the Lew Wallace Memorial Assault Group died.
But did they?
On their left, J's fast movement had put him into the teeth of the Committee's fire. Spaniards fell left and right, with J's forces rapidly being whittled down. RDR-2 still had one (reduced) section of grim-faced miners to make one last close assault...
The respective (1/1 scale) Commanders saluted. It was to be now or never. After a long day of grinding battle, it had come down to one last, great charge....
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