The game: nine Flags (red pawns), a sixty-card Troops deck and a twenty-card
Tactics deck, and a four-page rules sheet. The handy reference card
I downloaded from BoardgameGeek.com
I
arrived at the expected time for a game with T (remarkably on a Monday for our
sometimes inappropriately named Monday night game), only to find he had a
visitor. T is taking some extended leave from work, and his boss had come
around to discuss a few matters regarding his area. T’s taking a few months off
to deal with some things. After introductions, I scurried off to make some
coffee and rustle up a suitable diversion, nothing having been set up as yet.
T keeps
his games in his home office, among the family’s extended game collection. The
shelves run floor to ceiling on the back wall, with most of the wargames on the
top shelf. There was no way I was climbing on his swivel chair to try to
retrieve something from up there, but a did spot something just about at
eye-level which seemed perfect for a truncated game and a chat.
I’ve
written about the Reiner Knizia game Battle Line (GMT Games, 2000) previously
(and more than once). I have a storied relationship with the game. I like
it as a game, and it ticks a lot of boxes for what we’re all about here at A
Fast Game – Monday’s session took about forty-five minutes from taking the box
down off the shelf to putting it back in its spot. Battle Line a numbers game,
which doesn’t appeal to everyone, but I like to play the percentages in a
non-gamble-y way.
If you
haven’t played it, it’s much more a war-themed game than a wargame; the game
involves setting out nine wooden pawns, called Flags. This is the battle-line
of the title. Play involves each player consecutively playing a card from their
hand before one of the flags, trying to construct three-card runs Adjacent to
the flags, then drawing a replacement card from either the Troop deck or the Tactics
deck. When each side has completed a run, they determine which side has won and
place the Flag on the winning run. The game is won when one side has scored five
flags or three adjacent flags (harder than it sounds).
The Troop
deck is made up of variously six suits of ten cards each, rated 1 to 10 in
value, and these are used to make runs in the following configurations (in
descending order):
Wedge – Straight flush
Phalanx – Three-of-a-kind
Battalion Order – Flush
Skirmish Line – Straight
Host – Any other formation (numerical values
tallied)
So, a
Wedge beats a Phalanx, which in turn will prove more than a match for a Battalion
Order, and so on, down to the Host (in a competition between Hosts, the greater
value of Troops showing up will carry the day, in the case of a tie, the side
who completed their run first is the winner of that Flag). The Tactics deck
mixes the straight mathematics of the Troop deck up a little. Various Tactics
cards can be played to stand in for a particular (or any) card required but not
drawn or allow the removal of a card your opponent has placed, and its
re-placement on a run on your side of the battle-line. These are the wild cards
that add a little chaos to the mathematical order of the game.
Flags placed cards dealt, anticipation building.
There’s quite a lot going on at the moment in life outside of games so, interestingly, T chose not
to draw any Tactics cards at all – usually he’ll draw around half a dozen in a
game – and I only drew one, and then only when I needed a Hail Mary for a run I
was trying hard to build (I’ll come back to this), which paid off in the short
term. We were both playing a fairly pure mathematical game. There’s an argument
in literary theory and the development of the detective genre in the late nineteenth
century and especially the rise in its popularity after the Great War was a
societal response to the diminishing influence of religion as a source of
assurance in everyday life; when people lost faith in God, there was still a
need for a sense of order, and people retreated into a world where wrongdoers always
received their comeuppance, and Truth was always revealed, Order inevitably
restored. Battle Line may just be a perfect game for restoring a sense of
balance, for a little while at least, in the face of life’s topsy-turviness.
At the
outset, the goal for me is to try to win the game by garnering three adjacent Flags.
I have never accomplished this, nor have I ever seen it done.* But I have to
believe it’s possible, though it might require your opponent to be oblivious to
your machinations and entirely absorbed in his own. To accomplish it you need
to set an anchor, a solid, insurmountable run at least third Flag in from
either end. This will give you the opportunity to win the two flags on either
side, or two consecutive flags from the anchor. I can’t say this has been an
effective strategy, having, as I said, never won with three adjacent flags, but
it carries a kind of logic that I find compelling. And try as I might, I haven’t
come up with a better opening.
Needless
to say, this is what I tried to do from the outset. I don’t think there is a
positive or negative effect related to playing the first card; T did in this
game. The first card placed in a run can suggest some clue as to what your
opponent is planning to place at that flag, which will in turn suggest what
cards he his holding or hoping to collect. I used to approach every game like
this, what you might call the Great Detective approach, parsing the evidence in
the search for meaning. This way lies madness. I’ve adjusted my approach to Battle
Line,
A blow
by blow of cards played would be tedious beyond comparison. Instead, I’m going
to present some photos of the developing game with some extended commentary on
each for the reader’s edification.
.
| I'd been holding the purple 9 and 10 for eight or nine rounds, so when T laid out the purple 8 I knew I needed a bit of luck, or some clever Tactics. |
In the
end, the game came down to the last two Flags, which were both taken quite handily
by T. Even with a more sanguine approach to the game, I can get a touch of white
line fever with some runs; I hold out too long for one result and miss the
opportunity to close it with a less optimal but still serviceable formation, only
to lose it to an unimpressive but still effective opposing run.
There is
a purity of thought in crunching the numbers in Battle Line, a certainty in the
absolutism of the game’s parameters that offers a kind of comfort. T likes to
use the term, “Playing your own game.” There is the space of play and there are
the boundaries, quite distinct. The space within becomes a manageable world of
probabilities, where options can be weighed against one another, and you can
feel a small measure of control over your own fate, however illusory. It‘s a strange
thing, but a game that once represented a kind of chaos in miniature has
evolved – for me at least – into something, if not peaceful, then somewhat controllable.
I don’t think T ever had the issues I've had with Battle Line – or if he did, he
certainly hid them more convincingly, but It seems to have become a safe
harbour for him as well.
| End state. As mentioned, T should have won about a half dozen rounds earlier, but in the end, the honourable Opposition was shrouded in all kinds of victory. |
* While
I was finishing this post, I caught up with T for another game. We played
Battle Line again, and T won with a three adjacent flag sequence at his extreme
right flank, which duplicated the technical result here.
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