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Tango01 Supporting Member of TMP15 May 2024 5:09 p.m. PST

"Having thrust a nickel into the dirty hand of the always screaming newspaper boy, the former tax inspector and hereditary nobleman of the Kharkov province Valerian Emmanuilovich Pirlik quickly ran his small, sharp eyes in a gilded pince-nez over the front page of "Free Speech"*. He chuckled with satisfaction and, crossing Bolshaya Sadovaya Street, headed to one of the many coffee shops in Rostov. Entering the dimly lit room from the sunlit wide street, Valerian Emmanuilovich, squinting, tried in vain to find at least a partially free table. In clouds of tobacco smoke and stench, the room was literally filled with dubious-looking personalities, some officers and young ladies of various types. Having once again looked around the hall of the establishment with myopic eyes, he, to his happiness, suddenly discovered an almost empty table in the far corner. Behind him sat a thin, unshaven officer, either smoking or dozing, chillily wrapped in a long overcoat with captain's shoulder straps, draped over his tired shoulders. Making his way through the visitors who were incessantly chattering in the establishment, Valerian Emmanuilovich almost came close to the dozing captain, and, without ceremony, muttered rather cheekily: "Permission, sir?", but before the former tax inspector had time to pronounce his grating "R"! , without changing his posture or facial expression, the captain's eyelid rose up, his tired yellow eyes measured the beggar with an indifferent gaze. Valerian, without waiting for an answer, plopped down into a nearby wicker chair. Once again he unfolded the newspaper and plunged into reading. The officer puffed on his almost extinguished cigarette and, closing his eyes, continued to sit silently. Having glanced over the text and finding it interesting, Valerian Emmanuilovich, fidgeting in his chair, suddenly threw away the newspaper and, calling on his neighbor to dialogue, asked the question: "Mr. Officer, how do you like it? A? Just imagine, there is another revolution in Siberia. In Omsk, the government of the right Socialist Revolutionaries was arrested by the Cossacks. The military declared a dictatorship. The coup was led by our famous polar explorer Kolchak! How do you like this news? The captain, without opening his eyes, muttered through closed lips: "Everyone shares power? And there is no one to defend Russia." "Don't tell me, Mr. Captain, the admiral is a very competent navigator and an intelligent scientist. He is a wonderful naval officer – a hero of the Great War. The last commander of the Black Sea Fleet! – Pirlik did not let up. "That's just it," the officer continued, barely opening his eyes: "- like a navigator. But we need to fight the Bolsheviks in the fields. Forests and ravines are not the surface of the sea. What do they write there? Three hundred Cossacks disarmed the guard battalion, etc. And here on the third day, here nearby, on the General's farmsteads, 35 versts from Rostov, on the Tuzla River." "And what happened on Tuzla on the third day? We didn't hear anything? – Pirlik suddenly perked up. "They roared as if guns were somewhere, but we thought it was far away." The captain continued: "We are standing guard at the line, on the left bank of Tuzla, opposite the General's farm, protecting you and your coffee shops. We are sitting. It seems like there are quite a few of us?…"




Main battle at Плюмбум (Pb) или азартная игра Blog



Nottingham Wargames17 May 2024 3:31 a.m. PST

This looks great. Well worth visiting the website for lots of images of other games

Tango01 Supporting Member of TMP17 May 2024 3:45 p.m. PST

Happy you enjoyed it…


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