The Ned Baron
by
Jeff Stimpson © 2007
"'Dogfight' is a light version of WWI air
combat. The Germans and Americans each get six biplanes divided into
two squadrons of three planes each. Each squadron gets a hand of
combat maneuver cards, and players move one plane from each squadron
engaging and evading each other. For each plane shot down, you
receive an ace token that entitles you to hold a larger hand of
cards. Anti-aircraft guns guard each home squadron, and the lucky
flyer has the opportunity to strafe the enemy's planes on the
ground." - From the really cool site
www.dogfightgame.com
One hundred and sixteen squares. Six little
plastic planes, moved by dice. One 45-year-old, and one 6-year-old.
"The deck has only two 'Loop' cards, Ned, so be
careful you don't leave the tail of your plane exposed if you don't
have a 'Loop' card. Don't show me your cards, Ned!" He folds them
against his chest, crinkling them! They haven't made these things
since the 45-year-old here was a very little boy.
If you're attacked from the side, I explain to
Ned, play a "Barrel Roll" card. If you're attacked head-on, play
your highest burst card. We start slow, just using two planes a side
and a few cards. I help Ned pick the cards, position the planes for
his next move ("You can't move that way, Ned; when you ended your
last turn, you left your plane pointing the other way ..."), and
learn such tricks as putting the tail of your airborne plane against
the edge of the playing board when you haven't drawn any "Loop"
cards, to prevent the enemy from attacking from behind.
I know this game. I played "Dogfight" with my
older brother Lee when I was a kid. When he grew away from getting
his ass kicked over the Western Front, I invented a solitaire
version, and even - as time ticked disturbingly into my teen years -
imagined and documented careers of fictitious pilots on both sides
who lived and died like meteors. World War I pilots carried no
parachutes, but they fought in a time of honor, when victors saluted
the vanquished just before the latter smashed into the ground.
The game is part of the American Heritage series
largely of the 1960s, and the series included "Skirmish" (little
plastic Redcoat soldiers), "Broadside" (little sailing ships), "Hit
the Beach!" (little destroyers and bombers), and "Battle Cry"
(little Civil War guys). "Dogfight's" board is a lavish depiction of
a battlefield, from the warbird's-eye view of the hangers and the
field hospitals, up towards the artillery nearer the trenches, to
the brown strip down the center of the board that's lined with
trenches and dotted with what are supposed to be the foot soldiers'
helmets. On each side of the board is a little drawing of a crashed
warplane.
I believe only "Dogfight" is in the Smithsonian.
It is also on ebay (starting at, incredibly, only about $10), along
with its replacement parts. "Ned, don't bend that!"
I was unsure when to start Ned on the Big DF. The
biplanes and the stands they sit on during play are fragile --
plastic may not biodegrade, but it doesn't stand up to kids well,
either. I try not to snap at him when Ned drops one of the tiny
green disks used to designate the German aces, or when he pulls his
playing card from the wrong deck.
He does pretty well in the warm-up games. I hope
he likes this; we've kind of drifted away from model-building after
the ships of "Star Trek," a show I watched in syndication as a kid
but which now isn't on anymore. Syndication isn't what it used to
be.
"Ned, would you like to try a real game?"
I write to the doctor who oversees
dogfightgame.com, telling him that I have introduced Ned to the
game. "I'm pleased you enjoyed the site," the doctor wrote back,
"and that Ned already has his head in the clouds. Happy gaming!"
Ned has a lot to learn. He shows his cards
accidentally. He challenges my anti-aircraft batteries recklessly,
and sometimes without even attacking my defenseless airfields
once he manages to get through the guns. He plays carelessly.
He beats me two out of three games. "Ned, how many
'Loop' cards do you have, anyway?!"
Ned's a lucky flyer. He does a little chair dance.
He must learn to salute the vanquished.
Copyright 2005 Jeff Stimpson, all rights reserved
