A couple more reviews

I am afraid readers are stuck with more reviews today as reading remains the main pain free activity; its not as bad as it was thankfully but a long way to go...or so it feels.

This is an engaging look into a fascinating slice of medieval Iberian history. The Fall of Moorish Seville 1023–1091 focuses on the rise and collapse of the Abbasid dynasty during the taifa period, becoming the most powerful of the taifa kingdoms under the Abbasid dynasty. and it manages to bring political intrigue, cultural achievement, and military tension together in a way that feels vivid rather than academic. 

One of the author’s strengths is how he humanised the rulers of Seville—especially al-Mu‘tamid. Instead of presenting him as just another medieval king, the author shows him as a poet, a patron of the arts, and ultimately a tragic figure caught between ambition and survival. The political manoeuvring between Christian kingdoms and rival taifas is clearly explained, without drowning the reader in names and dates. Even if like me you are not deeply familiar with eleventh-century Iberia, you won’t feel lost.

The illustrations deserve special mention. They are vivid, bold, colourful, and clearly inspired by historical sources, nor are they stiff or overly stylised. The cover image, for example, shows a warrior in chainmail with a rich cloak and turban, standing in a commanding pose. The details—like the texture of the mail, the layering of fabrics, and the muted battlefield scene in the background—add depth and atmosphere. Inside, the colour plates and other artwork helps anchor the narrative in a tangible world: shields, weapons, clothing, and architectural elements are thoughtfully included. The illustrations do not just decorate the text; they reinforce the cultural blend of Andalusia and broader medieval Mediterranean influences.

The narrative can occasionally feel a bit brisk, but there is a great deal to get through. Some events—particularly the shifting alliances with Christian kingdoms—move quickly, and a reader who enjoys deep military analysis might wish for a bit more tactical detail. But the trade-off is a smooth reading experience that keeps the story moving.

Overall, this is a strong entry in the series and a solid introduction to the taifa period. It balances storytelling and history well, and the illustrations add real value rather than feeling like filler. If you’re interested in medieval Spain or the complex world of al-Andalus, this one is definitely worth your time.

ISBN: 978-1-804518-30-4                    193 pages                     Paperback

Moving on 500 years, this latest addition to Helion’s Century of the Soldier stable is another one of those books from Helion where yet again the British Civil Wars are cut into bite-sized chunks, which is an approach I wholeheartedly endorse and prefer. My initial skim through the book resulted in me being instantly drawn into the untold mysteries of seventeenth-century garrison life. Andrew Abram has produced a genuinely interesting study of a topic that is usually treated as the dull logistical backdrop to the main set-piece battles. Here, the garrisons finally step out from behind their crumbling parapets and take centre stage.

What made the book instantly appealing to me is its sheer breadth. I used to think of  the British Civil Wars as a parade of Marston Moors and Nasebys, forgetting that the entire conflict was stitched together by dozens upon dozens of small, half-starving, perpetually under-paid strongpoints. Abram digs into these places with impressive clarity: who served in them, how they lived, how they fought, and—of course—what happened when the locals decided they had had quite enough of maintaining somebody else’s war.

The human detail is where the book really shines, and readers will be perhaps reminded that this aspect of warfare is something I am very interested in. Muster rolls, petitions, and complaints from governors and townsfolk are woven in without ever bogging the narrative down. I got a vivid sense of the dreary daily grind punctuated by sudden bursts of proper danger. Even the inevitable ‘accounts and provisioning’ sections are surprisingly readable and Abram has a knack for showing how the mundane becomes strategically essential.

Visually, it fits right into the Century of the Soldier series—good maps, decent artwork, and enough illustration to keep the pages lively without it feeling like a picture book. It also contains some handy tables and  details of some individual regiments. It is also mercifully well-structured, and I have found it possible to dip into individual chapters without losing the thread, which is handy if you are mining it for wargaming inspiration or background flavour for a scenario.

Is it niche? Absolutely. Does it matter? No. It is niche done particularly well: authoritative without being plodding, detailed without drowning you in academic footnotes, and, most importantly, packed with the sort of insight that reminds you the Civil Wars were far more than set-piece field battles. If you have even a passing interest in the period, the series, or the hidden machinery of seventeenth-century warfare, this is a cracking addition to the shelf.

In short, a lively, quietly fascinating study of the real backbone of the wars—those battered, begrimed little garrisons that kept the whole show running. Helion have another winner.

ISBN: 978-1-804518-37-3 222 Pages Paperback.

Some New Napoleonic Cavalry

Pictured in the post are a selection of miniatures produced by Piano Wargames. Mainly 3d resin prints with one of metal castings. As is clear from the photos I still need to do the basing and give them some flags.

Wurtzberg Light Dragoons

Hesse-Darmstadt Garde du Corps. Ok, there shouldn’t be as many figures in the unit as it was quite small. However, in my reality we have a proper-sized unit. These are metal.

Wurtemberg Jäger Garde Squadron.

Wurtemberg Garde du Corps squadron

Two squadrons of Wurtemberg Grenadier-Garde.

In reality this is another unit I decided to field at full strength with four squadrons for no other reason than it looks good.

French Infantry During the Seven Years War , Volume 2, Part 1.

My health at present is such that the best I can do for anyone reading this to be entertained is another review. 

Jean-Louis Vial has produced another solid and quietly impressive volume, the sort that rewards anyone with even a passing interest in the French Army of the mid-eighteenth century. This second instalment, French Infantry During the Seven Years War 1756–1763 volume 2: Regimental Distinctions and Colours; Part 1: French Regiments No. 1 to No. 74, covering regimental distinctions and colours for these regiments, continues the meticulous approach of the first book but feels even more assured in its presentation.

Vial’s strength lies in clarity. He manages to make a potentially dry subject—buttons, lace patterns, flag variations—surprisingly digestible. The organisation is clean, the detail is steady rather than overwhelming, and everything is backed by careful research. It is simply reliable, well-evidenced, and easy to use.

The colour plates and uniform artwork are, as expected, one of the highlights: crisp, attractive, and immediately useful for painters and wargamers. In fact with 32 pages of colour illustrations of each of the regiments’ uniforms and ensigns, we have something of a jackpot of detail to feast upon. However, the accompanying text is where the book earns its keep, guiding the reader through a complicated maze of uniform evolution without ever tying knots in one’s brain, well almost in my case. The uniforms of each regiment are discussed in some detail which complement the splendid regimental illustrations. There is even a concise service history for each regiment.

All told, this is a thoughtful, well-constructed reference that delivers exactly what it promises—and does so with quiet confidence. A pleasing addition to the shelf for anyone drawn to the Seven Years War or the ever-fascinating tangle of French regimental history.

This is No.151 in Helion’s from Reason to Revolution 1721–1815 series.

ISBN: 978-1-804515-40-2                    114 Pages Paperback

More Germans for France 1940

 Next up for France 1940 is a squadron of German cavalry and a unit of bicycle infantry. Both would form part of a reconnaissance unit for a non-motorised infantry division, I think. I have a spare company of motorcycle troops and a Kfz 13 to bring the battalion up to strength. 

The cyclists are plastic Hat miniatures while the cavalry are metal, from Early War Miniatures.

 I like them. I have some infantry who will play the role of the dismounted version of the above. 

I am now trying to finish several (5) horse-drawn limbers for a second battery of 105mm guns (Hat and EWM) and a couple of infantry guns (to give them an alternative means of getting about). 

I need to tidy up my Sdkfz251 as alternative transport in case I need to represent 1st Pz Div.  I also just found my French cavalry. Will it never end. …………?

Wehrmacht Odds and ends for 1940 (1/72)

I’ve been laid up for over a fortnight with a horribly painful bad back so not got much done and cert I’m not fighting fit so far as a game is concerned. I have however continued to be seen doing anything other than paint my Kingdom of Holland Grenadiers of the Guard and start my new Piano Miniatures Baden battalion. So, instead of all that Napoleonic nonsense I thought I’d post some photos of a few Fall of France 1940 models, in the shape of a variety of German items. Most of what is shown here, with the exception of the weathering and so forth were painted with acrylic paint pens. The models got a dunkelgrau undercoat and the rest (not much I agree) is pen. Ok the undercoat does most of the work but I finished all these in half a hour, plus basing. Not much to most of these items but it was an interesting experiment.

New additions to the Wehrmacht Fall of France collection.

This is a die cast Del Prato or similar set I picked up a charity shop. (I managed to bag eight in total, either with the 20mm Flak or 37mm AT gun). 

Three boring trucks. 

Staff car although I can’t think to what formation it will belong.

A resin printed Kfz 13.

105mm Infantry Gun and Kfz 69 Horsch tow. 

The deployed versions of the IG105 and the 20mm Flak.

I’m finding the completion of this collection quite an enjoyable experience, certainly more so than painting 30 Kingdom of Holland Guard Grenadiers and some more Paraguayans. 

Some More Excellent Reading.

At the risk of flooding my blog with more reviews, while I've been out of action in terms of actual games the past few weeks  I have had plenty of opportunity to tackle the large pile of books I have accumulated on the past month or so.

Fall of the Merchant-Farmer Republic, the Battle of Visby 1361 and the Danish Conquest of Gotland by prolific Helion contributor Mchael Fredholm von Essen is the first in a new series from Helion, ‘a Time of Knights 400CE to 1453CE.’ It is one of those books that sounds quite worthy on the cover and then promptly turns out to be a very enjoyable read indeed. It is the story about which I had absolutely no knowledge, of a state that tried to juggle trade, agriculture, and politics all at once — and slowly discovered that keeping all those balls in the air is a recipe for disaster and rarely ends well.

Von Essen writes with an easy confidence that makes complicated ideas feel pleasantly straightforward. You drift from markets and land reforms into factional squabbles, military panics, and political overreach almost without noticing. It all feels very human: lots of good intentions, plenty of sharp elbows, and the occasional moment where you can practically hear the wheels coming off.

The real fun lies in the contradictions. Merchant elites preaching civic virtue, farmers footing the bill, and armies that never quite arrive in the right place at the right time. Von Essen has a dry eye for these things, and he lets the absurdities peak for themselves which makes for a much more enjoyable read. 

The maps and illustrations are well judged and actually useful (always a plus), and the book has that familiar Helion neatness about it — clean layout, no fuss, easy on the eye.

In short, this is a lively, readable account of a republic that overreached itself with impressive energy. The colour plates are as ever very striking and characterful, and the black and white illustrations and photographs of surviving fortresses and equipment are helpful. 

Informative without being heavy, thoughtful without being dull, and very easy to recommend. Just the sort of book you start ‘for a chapter or two’ and end up finishing in one sitting. Highly recommended for anyone who enjoys history with a bit of character and a lot of heart. 

ISBN: 978-1-804518-29-8                          195 pages                   Paperback

Moving half way round the world and 500 or so years into the future, Sunstruck Giant, Vol. 1: The Sino-Japanese War 1894–95 by John Dong is one of the latest additions to Helion’s ‘from Musket to Maxim 1815–1914’ series. It is book that got me thinking why this war does not get written about more. It is usually boiled down to ‘Japan modernised, China did not’ and left at that. What I find useful is that this volume actually rolls its sleeves up and shows what was really going on.

What I liked straight away is that it does not treat either side as cardboard cut-out stereotypes. The Qing forces come across as uneven, sometimes frustrating, but far from useless, while the Japanese army and navy are clearly effective without being magically perfect. Training, kit, leadership, and sheer luck all play their part, and the author is good at showing how quickly plans start to unravel once shooting begins.

The battle sections are clear and nicely paced. You can follow what is happening without needing to stop after every page and re-read a paragraph, which is always a good sign. There is a real sense of confusion and pressure, especially as modern weapons meet old systems and neither side fully controls the results.

The excellent maps and illustrations do their job properly—clear, sensible, and actually useful, which cannot always be taken for granted. The colour plates are particularly impressive and vivid. The book also contains a large number of contemporary black and white images. The appendices are also useful in explaining the Chinese and Japanese military ranks and Japanese uniform colour, and liberally spread throughout the book are various useful charts and tables to support the narrative. 

Overall, this is a very readable and surprisingly gripping account of a short, sharp war that changed a lot more than people tend to realise. Informative without being heavy, and interesting without trying too hard. If this conflict has ever felt like a blind spot, Sunstruck Giant is a very good place to start.

ISBN: 978-1-804518-15-1 233 pages        Paperback

The Gaelic World at War: Soldiers & Soldiering in Ireland 1366–1547 by Fergus Cannan-Braniff is one of those books that quietly fills a significant and unrealised gap until one begins turning the pages. The Gaelic World at War takes us into late medieval Ireland at ground level, away from the familiar Anglo-Norman castles and Tudor policy papers, and instead plants us firmly among the kerns, gallowglasses, horse boys and war leaders who actually did the fighting. This is No. 5 in Helion’s new and exciting series ‘a Time of Knights 400CE –1453CE.

The author’s great strength is that he treats Gaelic warfare as a coherent military system rather than a chaotic prelude to real early modern armies. Recruitment, pay, equipment, tactics, logistics – it is all here, and handled with an admirable lack of romance. The kern is not some mist-shrouded skirmisher out of Victorian myth, but a professional soldier with a defined role, expectations, and limitations. Likewise the gallowglass emerges as more than a two-handed axe with legs. It was a social and military institution that evolved over time and adapted to changing conditions.

What I really like about this book, though, is its balance. This is not just a catalogue of weapons or a parade of battles. There is real attention paid to how war fitted into Gaelic society: lordship, kinship, cattle raiding, seasonal campaigning, and the blurred line between warfare and politics. English forces in Ireland are sensibly integrated into the story rather than treated as an external intrusion, which makes the whole period feel far more dynamic and contested than the usual ‘decline and conquest’ narrative.

The illustrations deserve a mention too. They are well presented, clear, purposeful, and actually useful – showing equipment, dress, and organisation in a way that complements the text rather than padding it out. Wargamers and reenactors will get plenty of inspiration here, but it never feels like the book is pandering to them.

If there is one takeaway, it is that Gaelic Ireland was not militarily backward, merely different – and that difference persisted, stubbornly and effectively, well into the sixteenth century. For anyone interested in medieval warfare beyond the usual French and English circuits, this is an absorbing, corrective, and very readable study.

In short this a serious book that does not take itself too seriously, and all the better for it. One I will be reaching for again as the whole subject matter is a fascinating dive into soldiering in Ireland between 1366 and 1547.

ISBN: 978-1-804518                  126 pages        Paperback

Some interesting books.

 This is No.155 in Helion’s from Reason to Revolution 1721–1815 series.

In Fuentes De Oñoro, Massena’s Last Battle and the Campaign of 1811 Kenton White has produced a clear, steady and authoritative account of one of the more awkward, fascinating battles of the Peninsular War, relying on a well-paced and absorbing narrative that guides the reader through the messy realities of 1811 with calmness and precision. 

The author brings out the personalities—Massena fraying at the edges, Wellington juggling risks—with just enough colour to keep things human without drifting into melodrama. The campaign context is handled particularly well and as a result I never felt lost, nor did I feel lectured. It is simply explained, neatly structured, and surprisingly easy to follow. The Peninsular War is not an area I am as familiar with as say, 1805 to 1808, so this approach certainly helped me through the detail admirably. 

The battlefield analysis is sensible rather than showy, and the maps and illustrations support the text without overwhelming it. For wargamers, there is more than enough in here to spark scenario ideas, but it never feels like that is the book’s aim. For me I was content to let the facts carry the story. The two appendices make interesting reading and comparisons, as they present the orders of battle and strength returns for both Wellington’s and Massena’s armies as of 1 May 1811.

All in all, it’s a measured, engaging and quietly impressive study—one that rewards a relaxed afternoon’s reading and leaves you with a solid appreciation of a complicated little corner of the Peninsular War. 

ISBN:978-1-804518-24-3                        269 pages              Paperback

Moving on to a very popular subject, the Great Italian Wars. The Battle of Pavia 1525 by Massimo Predonzani is a reminder of just how chaotic early-modern warfare could be, even when some of Europe’s biggest names were on the field. You go in expecting pikes, shot, and grand manoeuvre — and you come out with mud, confusion, desperate firefights in the dark, and a king having a very bad day indeed, no doubt wishing he had stayed in bed!

The Italian Wars seem to be a very well-represented conflict at the moment, with numerous wargamers’ guides, rule sets and supplements in abundance. This book complements the author’s five-book series on the Italian Wars, also published by Helion. Predonzani tells the story with a nice, steady hand. The build-up is clear without being ponderous, and when the fighting kicks off it is brisk, sharp, and refreshingly uncluttered. The clash between French gendarmes, Swiss pikes, and Imperial shot is explained in a way that actually makes sense, which is no small achievement given how often Pavia gets buried under layers of myth and hindsight.

What really works is the sense of things going wrong very quickly. Command decisions unravel, formations lose cohesion, and suddenly this carefully planned campaign turns into a brutal scramble in woods, parks, and broken ground. Predonzani is particularly good at showing how firearms and terrain teamed up to ruin traditional assumptions about cavalry and shock tactics.

The maps and illustrations carry the book and are genuinely helpful rather than decorative. You can follow the action without constantly flipping back and muttering under your breath, which is always a good sign. The colour plates are amazing, especially the eight pages of the Pavia tapestries. The colour drawings, particularly that of Francis I and the one depicting the fight between the Imperial Landsknechts and the French Black Band, together with the banners, are also detailed and beautifully executed.

All told, this is a cracking account of one of the Renaissance period’s truly decisive battles. Clear, engaging, and very readable, it strips away the legend and leaves you with a fight that feels messy, dangerous, and very real. If you have ever wanted a book on the battle of Pavia that actually makes sense, this one is well worth your time. This is No. 33 in Helion’s superb and eclectic ‘from Retinue to Regiment 1453–1618’ series.

ISBN: 978-1-804518-34-2 161 pages Paperback