by Jim Werbaneth
I'll address the big issue here, why this issue took longer than I wanted to see
the light of day. Over the winter I thought I could throw something together, a
new review perhaps and a bunch of articles from the strategic reserve of
projects, all done and ready to go. That ran aground on a rather prominent rock,
namely my own perfectionism. The more I thought about it, the less I wanted to
just throw some articles together and call it Line of Departure. It would
have been very easy, not in my mind right.
So I went back and started writing more projects that I expected to put into the
magazine. My standard methodology has been to try to write a little more than
necessary for each issue, actually keeping my eye on the next two issues. That
way there should be enough material for each magazine, with something left over.
In theory too, when it comes time to work in an issue, some of the articles are
in place for it already. Then I can work on it, and the next edition, so that
it's a constant, rolling process.
Along the way too, there will be articles that, for reasons of space, don't make
it into Line of Departure as planned. They go into a "strategic reserve"
to fill out issues where needed, and where they fit content-wise. My ideal is
that every time that an article leaves the strategic reserve to see print,
another should take its place. That doesn't hap-pen every time, but it's
definitely what I prefer.
Some stay in there for extended periods. I've published articles that were on
the bench, as it were, for up-wards of five years. Again, there was nothing
wrong with any of them, they were just waiting for the right place in the
magazine. It can just take a while.
For Issue 65, I decided to follow this process, recommitting to it even. It's
worked well so far, and I believe has helped keep up the quality.
All the while, time became tight for a while. Some-times the only thing more
demanding of time than going to college is being the guy at the front of the
classroom. I had a daytime constitutional law class, a Wednesday night
introduction to political science class, and a "fast track" constitutional law
class, consisting of four weekends of Friday night classes and all day in the
classroom on Saturdays. On top of that, there were four online American
government classes at any one time, on a rotating basis, and two less
accelerated online classes in comparative government and American history since
1939.
As Bob Hoskins, playing Nikita Khrushchev in the movie
Enemy at the Gates said:
Caviar is a luxury that we have. Vodka is a luxury that we have. Time is a
luxury that we do not have.
So my day (and often night) job became a major time hog. Again.
On top of that, as though there was a need for more, I started graduate school
in April. Right now I'm only taking one class, which was about all I could
handle with that workload. I'm taking advantage of the educational benefit
offered by American Military
University to its staff, and I'm working on a Masters degree in military
history, with a concentration on World War II. It's a long term project, one
taking several years. In the end too, I view it as a natural fit with my
wargaming work, and the work for my Masters will probably help both my wargame
design and development work, and Line of Departure.
A second Masters probably isn't a bad career move either.
The features in this issue are chosen and not drafted. The review of
Ici,
C'est la France! was intended all along for the lead position. There are
relatively few titles on revolutionary warfare, and fewer that handle it really
well. So I was deeply interested in profiling Kim Kanger's game on the Algerian
War of Independence.
The article on France 1940 is not included as an in-stance of sustained
French-bashing. Rather, this is an early addition to the very small game library
I had in the early seventies, and one that, for all of its issues of balance and
erratic simulation value, a wargame from which I learned a great deal.
Besides, this month marks the seventieth anniversary of Case Yellow, so it seems
appropriate.
The analysis of
Athens & Sparta marks something that I had wanted to do for a long time. For
years, I wanted to cover the block games published by
Columbia Games. They are a major
subcategory of wargaming, and maintain a highly enthusiastic fan base. I
addressed
Command & Colors: Ancients last year, so games with blocks have got-ten the
Line of Departure treatment, but this issue is the first one to cover a
game that relies on wooden blocks as a necessary, defining characteristic.
Finally, my friend Robert Smith continues his contributions to Line of
Departure, with a review of the deluxe edition of
Twilight Struggle.
Enjoy the issue, and before long the next one too.