My dearest Hedwig, I write to you from the churning battlefields of King Friedrich II’s campaign to reinforce Silesia against the lurking Gallic aggressor. I regret to inform you that the French Hussars are kicking our Hussarses. We just engaged what our scouts from the 17th Pop-Up Tutorial Squadron promised was a “light” patrol of ill-trained musketmen and cavalry, just outside Hildesheim. French equestrians appear to be made of different stuff than our Prussian chargers. They cleave through our Landmiltz like wheat. Meanwhile, our horseguys can’t take a single bayonet to the gaskin without turning for home.
All is bloodmist and flashing unit banners. There is no time, dear Hedwig, for the baguette-wielding infidels swiftly descend upon my sole surviving regiment of Cantonist Recruits. Our ill-named leader Count von Smash has long since cast down his sabre and left to pursue a second career as a humble peasant with a suspiciously fine moustache. Avenge me, my love! Complete the Silesian campaign in Master Of Command and retrieve my bloody bones!
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If you’re hungry for another historical Total War, and besotted specifically with the gunpowder combat of Napoleon: Total War and Empire: Total War, you might enjoy Master Of Command, Armchair History Interactive’s real-time strategy game set during the Seven Years War of 1756 to 1763.
That’s my conclusion after 40 minutes with it, anyway. The game only just launched on Steam, and there is a heck of a lot of period detail to chew through, but you can boil it down as follows: you lead an army around a procedurally generated map of real-ish places cloaked in fog of war, duffing up rival armies and claiming or trading with settlements while managing your supplies.
Your army consists of upgradeable regiments drawn from a whiskery bestiary of 150 celebrated 18th century European military units. There are officers with buffs and customisable hats, and many kinds of equipment to consider, such as tricking your muzzleloaders out with the latest cylindrical ramrods to shorten the gap between volleys. On the battlefield, meanwhile, you line up your grenadiers, fusiliers, cossacks and whatnot to outmarch, outgun, outflank and otherwise outfox the enemy, while taking advantage of terrain features like hedgerows, and monitoring each regiment’s ammo and morale.
I am skimming through the nerdy warfaring minutiae here not out of disrespect for historians (armchair-based or otherwise), but simply because AAAAARGH, I think this game is trying to kill me with proper nouns. I am swimming in a sea of heraldry and plumed headgear. Fortunately, the in-game presentation is quite intuitive, so far, without simply being functional. The maps, menus, UI elements and character portraits are wrought in bright, bold colours. The 3D unit models are simple and toylike, next to Total War: Warhammer 3’s blinged and prancing miniatures, but you’ll wince nonetheless when one of your flanking cavalry formations eats a full musket volley. As battles go on, the view fills with gunpowder smoke. The strikingly painted countryside grows bleary and concussed. Oh the humanity!
Dear Hedwig, I live! Following my last, desperate letter, I managed to escape the carnage by playing dead. After night fell I stole back to camp, where Count von Smash loitered in his tent, having finally regained his nerve after two solid miles of running and screaming. He assures me that we’ll give the tricolore trouble-makers what for during our next encounter. I can only hope he reads Armchair Interactive’s “basic” guide to units before continuing the offensive.
