#Crimea in miniature

[otmaaromanovas]

Maria's relationship with her her father, Nicholas

The Grand Duchesses’ nanny, Margaret Eagar, remembered how

“from her earliest age [Maria’s] love for her father has been most marked. When she was barely able to toddle she would always try to escape from the nurseries to go to papa, and whenever she saw him in the garden or park she would call after him. If he heard or saw her, he always waited for her, and would carry her for a little.

When he was ill in the Crimea her grief at not seeing him was excessive. I had to keep the door of the day nursery locked or she would have escaped into the corridor and disturbed him with her efforts to get to him. Every evening after tea she sat on the floor just inside the nursery door listening intently for any sounds from his room. she heard his voice by any chance she would stretch out her little arms, and call "Papa, Papa," and her rapture when she was allowed to see him was great.

When the Empress came to see the children on the first evening after the illness had been pronounced typhoid fever, she happened to be wearing a miniature of the Emperor set as a brooch. In the midst of her sobs and tears little Marie caught sight of this; she climbed on the Empress's knee, and covered the pictured face with kisses, and on no evening all through his illness would she go to bed without kissing this miniature.”

Source: Six Years at the Russian Court by Margaret Eagar

[mariacallous]

It’s the day after Donald Trump declared his election victory, and a tech scout for NATO is peering down at a miniature factory, the size of a shoebox, designed to manufacture semiconductors in space.

Chris O’Connor, with his black bomber jacket and military haircut, has spent the past year scouring Europe for companies that will give NATO a technological edge over Russia and China—a job that has become even more urgent in the past 36 hours as the region rushes to prepare for Trump 2.0. Here, in a gray industrial estate on the outskirts of Cardiff in Wales, he believes he’s found one.

Space Forge wants to send satellites equipped with tiny clean rooms into space, where they’ll grow semiconductor crystals before transporting them safely back to Earth.

One Space Forge satellite could eventually create enough semiconductor material to power tens of thousands of phones, estimates chief technology officer Andrew Bacon, speaking in an office overcrowded with freshly-hired staff. Bacon says he is more interested in making chargers for electric cars to fight climate change, and Space Forge’s potential to exorcize all polluting industries from the planet.

But O’Connor is here because Space Forge has piqued the interest of the €1 billion ($1 billion) NATO Innovation Fund (NIF). Manufacturing semiconductors in space, where there is no dirt, air, or gravity, has the potential to provide efficiencies that could create superior versions of military tools such as radar.

“The distance that radar can cover—translating to what it can see and how quickly it can do that—can be dramatically improved by using these materials,” O’Connor says, explaining why Space Forge was among the NIF’s first six investments to be made public.

Alongside Space Forge, the 1-year-old NIF’s investments include battlefield robots, a company manufacturing a lighter version of the carbon fiber used to build cars and rockets, and several space startups.

This is the alliance’s first foray into the high-risk, high-reward world of venture capital, using its members’ money to fund the experiment. Space Forge has never actually made semiconductor material in space. The only time the company attempted to launch its satellites, the Virgin Orbit rocket giving them a ride failed 177 kilometers above Earth before crashing into the ocean. O’Connor, one of three partners at the fund, is sanguine about the fact there is no guarantee the investments will work out. “We’ve been given a mandate to go take this risk,” he says.

Trump’s win has intensified existing concerns over NATO’s reliance on US support, which is expected to falter under the new administration. The president-elect's comments about NATO allies that do not meet their military spending targets of 2 percent GDP (for example, Italy) have been scathing. “If they’re not going to pay, we’re not going to protect,” he threatened on the campaign trail in February.

Meanwhile, Trump’s impatience with war in Ukraine—which he claims he would have “settled prior to taking the White House”—have generated anxiety that he is planning to pressure the country to cede regions to Russia. Last week, Trump ally Bryan Lanza said the new administration would be focused on restoring peace, not lost territory. “Crimea is gone,” he said. Trump’s team later said Lanza did not speak for the president-elect.

In response, many people across government and industry have been calling for the same solution: for Europe to step up. “I don’t think there’s a high likelihood that the US will pull out of NATO,” caveats O’Connor. He doesn’t believe anyone is planning for that. “It seems to be more how Europe is going to step up and play a bigger role.”

The NIF, based in Amsterdam, is one vision of how the region might do that. The fund plans to jumpstart ailing European deeptech innovation in a way that may also benefit its members and their militaries—independent of US support. The US, which already spends more on defense than any other nation, is among eight NATO members that have so far decided not to contribute to the fund.

“They obviously weighed up the pros and cons and just felt that this doesn’t make sense for the US, given their strong heritage in venture capital,” says Rob Murray, the former British army officer who was an early proponent of the NIF in Trump’s first term.

In 2019, Murray watched European states scramble in response to the former president’s NATO critiques—“too expensive” and “obsolete”—and wrestle internally to raise their defense budgets. He sketched out how a NATO bank, a defense-focused version of the World Bank, might work. But, he claims, NATO higher-ups believed the world was not ready. The idea—which continues to attract support—was controversial because it could mean rich countries end up bank-rolling smaller countries’ militaries through collective debt. Then, Murray was disappointed. Now, he appreciates his timing was off. “The geopolitics just just weren’t there for it,” he says.

Yet, the idea refused to totally die. What he describes as a “footnote” in the original pitch, suggesting “venture capital for emerging and disruptive technologies,” would eventually become the NIF in October 2021. Still, in early meetings, ambassadors balked at being asked to back the kind of moonshot companies even ordinary VCs were too risk averse to support. Yet Murray’s team persevered, believing the NIF could lead by example and persuade European investors to be more bold.

Governments became more receptive to that idea after Russia’s invasion of Ukraine in 2022. Officials were watching the use of drones in Ukraine and realizing they needed the startup community to keep up. Among them was German military officer turned startup founder Marc Wietfeld, who cofounded ARX Robotics three years ago—another company among the NIF’s early investments. The startup has been building what look like reinforced robot lawnmowers, capable of racing around the battlefield to help with reconnaissance missions or to evacuate casualties.

“We do not weaponize the robots,” Wietfeld stresses, “but theoretically, it would be possible.”

Wietfeld foresees his robots, which are being used by seven NATO members and Ukraine’s Armed Forces, as an answer to two problems. First, Europe needs a way to multiply its waning human forces to prevent being outnumbered. ARX can help because the robots are so autonomous, he claims, a single soldier can control up to 12 at once. Second, he believes the robots could save lives. “I don't want to see my kids fighting as soldiers against Chinese and Russian robots,” Wietfield says.

Catching the attention of the NIF carries the benefits of both cash and connections. The fund acts as a conduit to link European defense ministries and startups—reassuring governments the startups have been vetted and their supply chains aren’t going to become a problem if there is a trade war or conflict with China.

“Armed forces are not really used to working with startups and there’s a trust issue [around] are we really capable of scaling the systems,” Wietfeld says, adding it’s been much easier to contact governments since the NIF investment went public.

One billion euros is not enough to fix Europe, a region whose issues French president Emmanuel Macron diagnosed as a mix of strategic and economic. “We tend to think we should delegate our geopolitics to the United States,” Macron said at a meeting of European leaders in Budapest the day after Trump’s election, “and our technological innovation to American hyperscalers.” For Europe to be in a position to “step up,” the region needs to find answers to both those problems.

In theory, the NIF will become a funding model that’s self-sustaining for NATO innovation priorities, says Michael C. Horowitz, a professor at the University of Pennsylvania who worked on emerging capabilities in the US Department of Defense until earlier this year. He sees what the NIF is trying to do as part of a worldwide trend. “Governments around the world, including in the United States, have understood they need to change the way they’re interacting with the private sector if they want to be able to more effectively both harness and nurture technology development to achieve their national security goals.”

There’s no guarantee the plan will work. But for Europe, in an uncertain world, it’s a start.

[blueiscoool]

A 2,000-Year-Old Scythian-Style Cemetery Discovered in Siberia

Clearing a mound to make room for the newly deceased in Krasnoyarsk, Siberia revealed tombs from a culture unique enough to warrant its own definition, archaeologists say.

While bulldozing land for a new burial ground, workers startled to discover an old one, belonging to a newly identified culture

All they meant to do is expand a local cemetery. But as gravediggers in Krasnoyarsk, Siberia, were removing a hill to make room for the newly deceased in 2018, they made an unexpected discovery. That hill turned out to be an ancient burial mound created by a Scythian-type culture over 2,000 years ago.

The question is which Scythian-type culture.

Our story begins in the 19th century, when a new cemetery called Shinnoye was established on the outskirts of Krasnoyarsk, the second biggest city in Siberia. Little did the founders know that the land nearby had already been “used”.

A century later, excavation of what remained of the ancient burial mound began in autumn 2021 and continued the next summer by a team of archaeologists from the Siberian Federal University, led by Dmitry Vinogradov.

In fact, around 150 ancient burial mounds are now known to have existed around Krasnoyarsk, but most were destroyed in the course of city development during the 20th century. This was the first to be excavated in the region in 65 years.

The chamber of death

It is indeed unfortunate that while expanding the modern cemetery, the ancient mound was bulldozed. Valuable data was destroyed, but based on old photographs and descriptions from an archaeological survey almost a century ago, the mound had been round and about 30 meters in diameter. However, the knowledge about it was lost over the years. Its existence was only rediscovered by the bucket of the bulldozer a century later.

Luckily, the tomb beneath survived the bulldozing and turned out to contain dozens of bodies in a large rectangular pit, that had been walled with timber and carpeted in birch bark.

The upper part of the tomb was damaged by the worksbut parallels with tombs from the era suggest it once had a wooden roof, thus creating what is known as a box tomb, Vinogradov explained.

Preliminary counts suggest the tomb may have contained as many as 50 people buried with grave goods ranging from beads to bronze plaques, miniature symbolic bronze daggers and battle axes, as well as knives, mirrors, and needles; and ceramic vessels that had contained foods: all items the deceased might have “needed” in the afterlife, Vinogradov speculates.

One plaque depicted a stag, a popular motif in Siberian Scythian animal art.

But the question remained, which Scythian-type culture this was.

Signs of Scythians

The Scythians are known mainly as the “barbarians” living in Crimea and north of the Black Sea, according to classical authors, mainly Herodotus from the fifth century B.C.E. However, the Eurasian steppe belt, as far east as northeastern China, was home to numerous horse-riding nomadic and semi-nomadic archaeological cultures that the Russian school of archaeology calls “ Scythian”.

Make no mistake. Scholars today do not ascribe to a theory of some broader unified “Scythian” nation or culture. Rather, the name refers to a triad of Iron Age archaeological features: certain styles of bronze weaponry; horse-riding gear; and art featuring real and mythical animals – mainly stags, wild felines, birds of prey and mythical griffons.

A lot of cultures throughout the sprawling Eurasian steppe belt featured the “Scythian triad” of artifacts, but the ethnic, genetic or anthropological connections between them – if any – remain unclear and highly debated, especially concerning the most far-flung of the “Scythian-type” communities.

For example, Scythian-type archaeological cultures in the Minusinks basin in Siberia are not thought to have any relationships with the classical Scythians in Crimea or the Northern Black Sea, but rather to be related to closer people in Siberia’s Altai mountains.

It can also be said that from the Bronze Age onward and continuing into the Iron Age, there were connections between northeastern China and the Minusinsk basin in Siberia, but researchers still debate who influenced who and how. In any case, these “Scythian” cultures encompassed the full gamut of lifestyles, from nomadic to semi-nomadic to sedentary.

One of the more famous “Scythian-type” cultures is the Pazyrysk living in the Altai mountains, Kazakhstan and Mongolia, best known for the Princess of Ukok and her beautiful tattoos.

Another famous Scythian-type culture is the Tagars, a semi-nomadic people who dominated the Minusinsk Basin during the late Bronze Age and Iron Age. On a number of grounds, the archaeologists suspect that the burial mound inadvertently unearthed by the latter-day gravediggers in Krasnoyarsk is associated with the Tagars.

In the early phase of their culture, the Tagars buried their deceased individually in stone box graves. In later phases, the fashion tended to large-scale wooden box tombs featuring multiple bodies, perhaps accruing over generations. And when the grave was full, the whole lot would be set collectively on fire.

Burning the dead

The large number of skeletons in the newly discovered tomb may attest that it served as a family tomb used for generations, Vinogradov suggests. When the tomb was full, it was sealed off, set on fire and left to burn.

This conclusion is supported by the colour and nature of the soil, which attests to high temperatures – and the fact that the bones had become mixed up inside, making the work for the physical anthropologist quite challenging. Usually, after burning, the tomb would be covered in soil, and that is what created the burial mound known throughout the steppe as kurgans.

However, death in the community did not end with the construction of our kurgan, as indicated by the discovery of ten pit burials around it. In fact, it was not rare for Tagar kurgans to feature later pit burials dug inside them as well. Luckily for posterity, the pits also survived the destructive claw of the bulldozer.

Each pit burial contained one or more individuals. Contrary to the wooden chamber of death, these tombs were not ignited. The dead were laid to rest in different positions – on their backs, chest, or side. Some skeletons survived the vagaries of time while others were less lucky, lacking any surviving bones, let alone articulation (anatomical order).

Nor was there a pattern to the dead in the pits: they contained both different sexes and all ages, including children. Only three contained grave goods, such as pottery and bronze, the same type as found within the wooden tomb.

From ashes, a new culture is born

The kurgan in Krasnoyarsk is similar to others in the Minusinsk basin, south of Krasnoyarsk. These types of kurgans are often associated with the Tagar culture (8th – 1st-century B.C.E).

The Tagar culture is divided into several stages. The style of our particular kurgan is similar to those from the later stages of this culture, from about 2,400 to 2,100 years ago.

The Tagars inhabited the basin from the 8th century B.C.E., the late Bronze Age. Toward the last centuries of the first millennium B.C.E, migration processes in the basin forced them to move northward, including to the territories surrounding the modern city of Krasnoyarsk. If in the early stage of their culture, the Tagans buried their dead individually, collective burials followed by cremation of the full graves marked the later phase of the culture: That was something completely new, Vinogradov explained.

Another hallmark of this final stage is that the dead were no longer buried with real bronze goods but rather miniaturized versions of these items, which presumably were of symbolic significance, the scholars believe.

Based on archaeological finds over the years in the region, some scholars have been suggesting that the late stage of the Tagar culture in the second and first centuries B.C.E., be considered a separate stage, which they call the “Tesinian culture” based on the site where these archaeological traits were first observed, on the banks of the River Tes in the Minusinsk Basin. In fact, the “Tesinian distinction” was first suggested by the late archaeologist and historian Mikhail Gryaznov (1902 – 1984), a leading scholar of the steppe cultures. .

These Tesinians retained Tagarian traditions, from pottery style to burying the dead in kurgans with miniature items. While the Tagars did use iron, the metal only became common during the Tesinian stage and the metal started to appear in burials as well, a feature associated with the following Tashtyk culture.

Another practice whose roots we see in the Tesinian period was burial with plaster masks. These masks would become a hallmark of the later Tashtyks.

By the time of the Tashtyk culture, which flourished in the area from the 1st to the 4th century C.E., we no longer see miniature bronze items but rather iron and wooden items.

Hence, scholars today believe the final stage of the Tagar culture should be classified as a separate culture, because of the various new traditions they have observed. They believe this Tesinian culture arose from mixing between the Tagars and other populations coming from Central Asia during this time.

At this point however there are more questions than answers, Vynogradov explains.

So, based on the character of the burial mound and the goods, the kurgan is believed to belong to the transitional Tesinian culture and to date to the second or first century B.C.E. And that is the story of the first ancient mound in Krasnoyarsk to be excavated in 65 years, which revealed a people who emerged on the outskirts of the known territories of the Tagars, and may be unique and different from anything we knew before. And perhaps further archaeological investigation will teach us about what might have driven the Tagars north into these territories, and who were the Tesinians they became; and how and when they lived, and how they died.

By Viktoria Grinboim Rich.

[radovanrybovic]

My first try on 54mm historic figure: 30th Regiment on foot, Crimea 1854, @raulatorre resin precious cast from @abteilung502 Rough WIP - trousers. 💂🏻📯🖌👁 Moj prvy pokus o historiku v 54mm: 30. pesi regiment, Krym 1854, Latorreho chutovka v resine od Abteilung 502. Hrube WIPko - gate. . . . . #miniature #miniatures #miniaturepainting #miniatureart #54mm #54mmminiatures #workinprogress #acrylicpainting #acrylic #crimeanwar #crimea1854 #hostoricminiatures #paintinglatorre #historicfigs #latorre #raulgarcialatorre #abteilung502 #wipmonday https://www.instagram.com/p/Cpd25lWIsLp/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[searuss8]

[russiannationality]

Crimea in miniature Park - Alushta

[slack-wise]

A gibbon walks by models of vehicles at a miniature park in Bakhchisaray, Crimea. Reuters/Alexey Pavlishak

[timmymyluv]

act two

The Russian Tsar’s heir to the throne Tsesarevich Timothee and his mother visit Copenhagen. Yet this visit is clearly not only for leisure, and will have international diplomatic and political consequences- particularly when it comes to his choice of bride. 

            “My dreams, my dreams! What has become of their sweetness? What indeed has become of my youth?”

                            ― Alexander Pushkin, Eugene Onegin

                                                          …

                                        1863, Alexander Palace.

Your portrait was fondly admired by the dashingly handsome, young gentleman. The miniature printed photograph, the first photo he had seen of you from the Danish Royal Court, was his favourite.

It was inserted into his bronze locket that he hid in his coat pocket, and brought it with him everywhere. From the moment he saw your enchanting eyes and slim figure, he felt something alien, foreign erupt in him.

Suddenly, his poems of grandeur, victory and wars evolved into tales of romance and lovely maidens - although he had never sent them to you nor met you yet. Every time his mother told him she had received photographs from prospective future daughter-in-laws she wanted for her heir, he only looked forward to any mentions where Dagmar of Denmark was included among these portraits.

The prince drops his sealed letter into the wooden mailbox for his secretary to deliver.

You tell me not to worry about your well-being but I am too much of my mother’s son and fuss about you like you do to me. I am sure little Maria and Paul are keeping your spirits up in my absence.  I know how much you enjoy the warmth of the Mediterranean sea.

I apologize I am not able to join you in Nice for the spring, as I diligently study and learn from Father’s wings on the kingdom I am to inherit. I will be traveling across the Crimea, getting to know the people in the distant lands we rule over.  

I count the days until I join you in our trip to Copenhagen. I think the company of the Glucksburgs in their beautiful kingdom will return the smile on your face that I think I have missed for so long, dear mother.

“Dearest Mama,

This may be foolish for a grown man to admit but I am longing and dreaming for the days until I am to see the Princess Dagmar of Denmark in the flesh again. It has been so long since I have only seen a glimpse of her in Rumpenheim a few years ago, but I fear her beauty has only grown since.

Now, it is my turn for this happiness in matrimony, as you and Father have shared for so many years. If she is willing, it would make me the happiest man in the world to have Princess Dagmar, by my side as my wife, my future Empress of Russia and the future Mother to this Great Country I am to inherit.

I haven’t fallen in love with anyone for a long time. . . You may laugh but the main reason for this is Dagmar whom I fell in love with long ago without even seeing her. I think only about her.

The Tsesarevich, Grand Duke Timothee Alexandrovich, the heir of the glittering, complex and wide-spanning Russian Empire was turned into putty at the thought of you.  

Tim “

For centuries, the Romanov dynasty traditionally chose brides among the numerous German houses from grand duchies and city states. However, anyone knew the tide was turning in the geopolitical balance in the kingdom, and a royal bride elsewhere was a move in the right direction.

Your beloved son,

If only you had known, his heart has been bewitched, enchanted by you, no matter the political consequences. He could have had any richer princess from a grander kingdom, but he would only have you as his equal, his partner by your side if you were willing to open up your heart to him.

                                                             …

                                       Present Day, Summer 1864.

You were restless, pacing back and forth like fire torched your feet. In your finest day dress, in periwinkle made of silk, with pagoda sleeves with a high neckline, and a full crinoline skirt, you were a living daydream.

Gone were the days you had to painstakingly copy sewing patterns from magazines sent from more prosperous relatives overseas, as the finest seamstresses and fashion houses from all over Denmark and Europe were at your beck and call. Your family finances had improved only slightly, yet even that difference was evidently visible.

Wearing your Order of Dagmar medallion on your sternum, you remembered your kinswoman who had changed her name, religion and her family for the man she married.  You knew this would be your fate - it was only expected of you.

Keeping up with the latest fashions of the day, you wore a cream coloured bow on top of your head. As much as you loved your delusions of grandeur, sometimes simpler the better. You did not want to seem too desperate or trying too hard in front of the Romanovs, who would recognize your fashion was a few seasons too late or not made of the finest material.

You held a breath outside the staircase of the Fredensborg Palace, watching in awe as the Royal Cossack Forces on their mounted horses and intricate uniforms surrounded the royal carriage.

The golden carriage was even more magnificent in person, arched with intricate carvings, and emblazoned with the imperial coat of arms of the Romanovs, and the grand eagle of the Russian Empire.    

The Tsarina steps out in her plain porpoise matching blouse and wide brimmed skirt, seemingly old fashioned and out of style but this was overpowered by her natural poise and elegance, framed with her piercing cerulean eyes and dark auburn hair.

Stepping out from the other side of the carriage was her son, the Tsesarevich and heir presumptive Grand Duke Timothee Alexandrovich, the future Tsar of Russia. He was tall, slender with broad shoulders, in his obsidian velvet coat.

You felt childish to admit this - your breath hitched and did everything you could to stop staring openly and rudely. He was dashingly handsome, charming, a romantic look about him that you could not look away. His wavy chestnut curls were starting to grow out over his eyes, but were neatly tousled up and highlighted his melancholic hazel eyes.  

              “The Tsarina and Tsesarevich of the Russian Empire!” The royal heralder announces.

Your family lined up along the staircase, waiting patiently to be greeted. Standing at the bottom of the velvet carpeted escalier, the Tsarina greets you rather enthusiastically as you curtsey at her perfectly.

A rare smile is shared with you from her, reaching forward to kiss your cheek to your surprise.

“Dear Minnie, how pretty you have gotten, Dagmar of Denmark. You grow more beautiful everyday.” She quietly compliments you, but she commands the attention of everyone in the room.

“Thank you, Your Imperial Majesty. It is an honour coming from you.” You politely thank her with a quaint smile, still in disbelief that she did not despise you as you assumed previously.

As Maria moves over to greet your mother, the Tsesarevich gallantly steps in front of you with a kind smile. Before you even have the chance to curtsey, he reaches forward and presses your knuckles to his mouth for a kiss.

He was much more boyish the last time you had seen Timothee, more lanky and awkward and he has grown much more handsome ever since. Timothee was taller, more confident, more assured about himself.

“Princess Dagmar of Denmark, it is a pleasure to see you again after so long.”

“Likewise to you as well, Your Imperial Highness. We had only met so briefly, the last time .”

                               “Yes, how unfortunate it was. I am lucky to have this chance to see you again.”

Whispers surround you from the Russian courtiers that they were familiar with your image, having seen the Tsesarevich carry a photograph of you everywhere he went.

You were no fool at the game that was being played around you. The Tsarina and the heir of the grand Russian Empire would not go all the way to your little Denmark for a simple “visit”. A marriage was expected to blossom from this event, and the proposal would be headed in your direction. Your life was about to change - forever.

                                                           …

As your brothers Frederick and Wilhelm accompanied the Tsesarevich, his immediate court and a cohort of elite Russian nobility, you found time for yourself.

A brief window that could fade away any second. You snuck through the back, an unusual entrance in Fredensborg Palace’s unique architectural design, with some secret tunnels only you would know and still manage to tolerate your dress without suffocating you to death.

With a book in hand, you strolled across the pristine gardens in the palace estate, eschewed with newly installed marble water fountains, it's relaxing sound lulled you into serenity and peace as you sat on a bench nearby to read until you would have breakfast with your mother and the Tsarina.

In your long sleeved cotton baby pink dress, you put your hair up in a simple bun and a white velvet bow on your head. The summer heat had started to come yet the spring breeze still whiffed in the air and you would dress extra warm for the time being.

You had lost track of time until your sore wrists had clumsily dropped your heavy, leather bound novel. As you lunged forward to catch it from hitting the ground, a gentleman's long, slender fingers had beat you to it.

The Tsesarevich. Prince Timothee himself, the heir to the Russian throne stood in front of you, with your book in his hand.

Your cheeks reddened in embarrassment. Way to make a first impression, Minnie. You told yourself in your head.

"Your Imperial Highness, I sincerely apologize - " You stammer nervously, yet his comforting grim assures you otherwise.

"There is no need, Princess Dagmar. I must apologize for taking you out from the enticing world that your book had brought you in. And please, there is no need for such formal titles on my end, even Timothee or Timmy will suffice."

For the first time in your life, you truly are able to take in and get to know one on one who he really was and what he truly looked like.

You remember a handful of photos of his well-documented upbringing, meticulously guarded by his mother.

Compared to his ceremonial greetings to you on the staircase and in front of the entire royal delegation, it confused you, troubled you almost how such a powerful young gentleman with such a tremendous expectation and weight on him actually seemed genuine, sensitive, kind, and considerate once you truly got to know him without protocol controlling every single aspect.

"You are too kind, Prince Timothee or Timmy if you shall allow me to address you as such. You may call me Minnie if you would like, as it is also what my family call me."

Following an excursion to the heart of Copenhagen,he spent the past morning visiting consulates, embassies, major cultural hubs, trading centres and the emerging retail factories and shops that were developing in your seemingly quaint little kingdom.

As the tour ended, your brothers could see the exhaustion on the guests' faces, and allowed some respite before congregating once more for lunch at the dining hall.

Timothee sought out to explore the halls of Fredensborg Palace on his own regard, even if his protective secretary, defense ministers, tutors and councils would try to trail along.

As his search continued, he recognized he was not as familiar as he thought he would be with the landscape of the Scandinavian palace, much smaller in size to the palaces in Tsarskoye Selo that Russian grand dukes and duchesses are accustomed to.

Finding you in his path, he was hesitant whether to approach you and escort you back with him to the dining hall, but as your book noisily plummeted across the pavement, fate left him no choice.

In your walk up the stairs and inside returning to the main palace building, you had slowly started to get to know Timothee. Not as formal or regimented as German courts and palaces , you could speak to him and get to know him with less prejudice and expectations.

" I have heard that your tour across the Continent was similar to that of your father's, the Tsar Alexander II when he was heir, but even more extensive geographically? How did the trip turn out for you? I have heard Denmark is your penultimate stop before you embargo across Italy, Spain and Portugal in the Mediterranean to finish the tour?" You ask him, the excitement and curiosity building up as you were engaged in conversation and found lots in common.

"Yes, I have been traveling city to city for the past several months. It has been an extensive learning experience for me, meeting various groups of people and such enriching experiences of different countries. To finally make it to Denmark, it is a shame that I visit so rarely, and am always amazed at the beauty of the country, and its people. " You do not miss his emphasis on the last word, and you raise an eyebrow but do not comment further.

“We may not be as populous or abundant as the rest of Europe, but the people here have a lot of heart, Your Imperial Highness. The people are so warm, friendly and welcoming, even in the streets. Oh, you have to try our local cuisine next, and the specialties our cooks have later for supper.” You reply passionately, as he fondly looks back at you, reflecting the same enthusiasm and appreciation.  

Actively listening to your inputs and inquiries with a pensive expression, you could see the same enthusiasm and excitement show in how his eyes would further sparkle and his speech polished, charismatic yet seemed so open, genuine and straight from the heart simultaneously.

He felt a little silly that now in front of the girl of his dreams, who he had been imagining by his side after seeing her photographs and only slight glimpses in childhood, that he is more nervous and finicky as ever. Usually suave and confident with women, he was afraid he would mess up her impression of him, and turn him down or even not give him a chance.

Before you two could further indulge in your shared interests in poetry and French literature, you and Timothee had reached the grand dining hall in Fredensborg.

“I cannot thank you enough for the kindness and generosity you have shown me in guiding me back towards the dining hall, Minnie.” The sound of your voice in his voice, his sweet, honeyed voice felt so right. Felt so natural as it flowed off his tongue. And you wanted him to keep saying it over and over again, chanting like a prayer.

Breaking out of your daze as your father prepares for a welcoming and celebration toast in honour of your Russian guests, you break out of daze and shake your head with a gentle smile, your ringlets brushing against your shoulder.

“It was a pleasure, Timothee. One must not be spared from the reins of Danish hospitality, especially in his household.” You whisper furtively, yet as your mother scolds you because your voice is overpowering your father’s speech, you and Timothee break out into subtle giggles.

                                                               …

In the living room upstairs, you play the piano for your father, having rarely seen him due to the rigidity of the schedule of events that occurred in the royal court upon the arrival of the Russian royal family. Slender figures gracefully flutter over the black and white keys.

Even with only a few minutes to spare before you are to prepare for the evening ball, you relish this time with your dear father. He glances on his book mindlessly, looking up occasionally to quietly admire your playing with a subtle smile.

                    “I will miss your playing, Minnie.” He says.

You miss a note, and hit a discordant flat note. “I am not going anywhere, father. I do not know what you are talking about.”

“No matter what your mother says, I want you to marry for love, Minnie. As I did with your mother. You, of all people, would be miserable in such a marriage only for power and dynastic ambition.”

You always admired the bond your parents had, even with the stark difference of their temperaments and mindset - they always found themselves full circle in common ground and bound by their love and devotion to one another. You feared you would not be as lucky to find the same for yourself.

Your father had no qualms or ambition of establishing your lineage into a prestigious royal house, as your mother was the one who had the cunning to scheme and arrange such favourable arrangements for you and your siblings. 

First, with Alix gaining the favour of Queen Victoria for her son Edward, and you are sure your brothers will follow soon thereafter. 

You choose not to respond and continue playing off the score sheet in front of you, wanting to hold off the thought of any future marriage and enjoy the now.

                          “What if I do not marry, Father?” You ask.

King Christian IX stares at you pensively, almost with a frown you cannot read into.

“One would be a blind fool if they were not to see the number of proposals coming your way, little Dagmar. The Tsesarevich would hang up stars in the sky if you asked for it.” He pinches your cheeks teasingly with a jesting yet affectionate tone, as you laugh and try to yank his rough, calloused fingers away from your face.

            “We will see about that, Father. Let us not speak too soon.”

“You’ve always had such a fiery, spirited character to you, my Minnie. You are so much like your mother, especially in her youth. You are a flame no man can cast out.”

                                                            …

Fredensborg was decorated like no other. Flowers bloomed in the royal garden, maids and servants ran around to attend to the hundreds of guests. The Romanovs were to stay for a few months for the summer before it got dark and dreary like it did in the colder months in Copenhagen.

As day dimmed into twilight, a grand ball was hosted in the palace. Members of the royal court, both local and foreign, dressed to the nines as crowds started to gather outside the palace hall.

You had barely since seen the Tsesarevich, as everyone rushed to prepare for the night’s ball. It had been years since you had seen him, with his much more refined features as he blossomed from adolescence and grew into his confidence and charm. The few minutes you had spoken with him felt like an eternity long ago, so many things said but not enough time simultaneously. 

In your pale apricot muslin dress, wearing your red velvet dash of the Order of the Golden Elephant and daisies woven into your hair, you were a glimmering sight. Your mother had schemed to go against the grain as everyone dressed almost garish, tackily and ostentatious but your simplicity would gain the eye of the Russian heir. Your family had not many jewelry and barely any tiaras in your arsenal, and you had picked the golden poppy tiara to crown your hair.

News traveled fast in Europe’s royal circles, from your sister’s initial rejection of the Tsesarevich Timothee’s marriage proposal in Rumpenheim, his published poetry, and most famously, his Grand Tour of Europe the past year.

It was no secret that his tour was simply not a learning experience of exploration of the kingdom he would own and neighbouring countries could present, but his excursion to find his future wife and future Tsarina of Russia.  

Tradition presented that a Romanov heir would take a bride from one of the Grand Duchies in recently unified Germany, but the shock and confusion continued among whispers and murmurs that he had been at the tail end of his trip across the continent without a single proposal made.

As your father King Christian IX formally introduces the Tsarina and the Tsesarevich as the beloved guests, you stand next to him, keeping your head straight in fear of your tiara falling off.

Timothee stands next to his mother, and their uncanny resemblance is more obvious than ever. He had the same eyes, that looked like worlds lived within them, and that dainty, subtle elegance that came natural to them.

He was a natural at his role. He was used to being the centre of attention yet never seemed egotistical or too proud, always humble and charismatic. The perfect prince. The beloved heir of a grandiose kingdom that made your own look medieval and impoverished.

You blanked out as cheers were made with champagne glasses celebrating the friendship of the great Russian Empire and the land of the sea Denmark. Missing a beat, you raise up your glass just in time and daintily sip as the crescendo of the orchestra plays a waltz.

The King and Queen of Denmark lead the opening dance with swift, agile feet and crowds of the royal court intermingle and join in. Just as you head towards your seat next to the throne, you feel the Tsesarevich marching towards you.

He could have danced with any woman in the room, as no one will refuse the wealthiest independent young man in the continent, and arguably in the world. Besides the empire he is to inherit, the properties and titles he holds on his own are numerous enough to feed little Denmark hundred times over.

You curtsy and flash a reserved, gentle smile at him. Up close, you notice the hazel that melts honey and emerald green into his enchanting eyes.

“Princess Dagmar, it is always a pleasure to visit your beautiful country, and to see you. It has been a long time since we have seen each other.” You know the last sentence is a lie, and hear an underlying sarcasm to his tone only you notice, but no one should know about your garden excursion earlier that day. 

“Why yes, Your Imperial Highness. It has been many years since.” You nod.

“I apologize for the fact that we had not properly spoken to each other without others present in the conversation.” He politely apologizes with a bashful grin.

“There is no need, Prince Timothee. I understand that many are eager to speak with you. Besides, I was only a young girl when we had last met. I would assume you would have found my company juvenile.” You humour him, before he chuckles and shakes his head.

“Every conversation I have is special to its own and cherished, including the one I am having with you right now. Would you have the honour of having this dance with me, Princess Dagmar?” He offers his hand suavely, and you do your best to ignore the gossip around you, sighs in defeat and gasps in curiosity.

You note how formal he is with you in this ball compared to earlier that morning, with more wavering eyes and ears to oversee and eavesdrop on every interaction.

                              “Of course, it would be an honour.”

Timothee leads you to the centre of the dance floor like a natural, couples clearing the floor like a parted sea to make room for the both of you. He takes your gloved palm in one another, and another firmly grasped around your waist.

You glided across the ballroom floor, swaying to the hymn of the Russian waltz that echoed in the room. You were usually very gregarious and chatty, but your nerves had gotten the best of you and not a single word came out of your mouth.

“I heard you are an avid reader, Minnie?” He asked curiously, before spinning you and switching directions where you faced.

“Yes I am. I read a little bit of everything, fiction, comedy, drama or even the daily newspaper.”

You knew it was risky for a young, royal princess to indulge herself in the realm of politics and current affairs that was the realm of your father and brothers. Yet, you did not care. Your hunger for more, for greater things could not be extinguished. 

You always spoke too soon for your own good, never biting your tongue and chirping it out before even fully processing it. Too headstrong they said. Too honest, too curious, too bright. But with him, you oddly felt at ease when you barely knew him.

“I am the same way. I find everything interesting and cannot help wanting to learn it all.” Timothee smiles warmly at you, before bowing as the waltz comes to an end.

“It was a pleasure having the first waltz with you, Your Imperial Highness. Truly. I always loved dancing.” You approach him with an assuring grasp on his forearm, ready to move away to allow him to dance with other partners but he never lets go of your wrist.

“I would hope it is not our last, Princess Dagmar). Would you spend the next waltz with me, Your Royal Highness?”

Even when you weren’t looking, you could sense your mother smirking in victory once she witnesses the royal heir is enchanted by your presence in action.

It does not go unnoticed by the royal crowd that the Tsesarevich had not danced with anyone else but you for the night. He sat down for a quick rest halfway through the night before your older brother Frederick danced the next polonaise with you.

After that, Timothee asked for the final dance, and who were you to refuse.

                                                        …

You awoke the next morning, feeling the soreness in your legs finally kicking in after hours of dancing. Still in your white chemise nightgown, you quickly rose up to prepare for your morning meal with only your mother and the Tsarina.

Your white day dress was plain up top, but black striped on the bottom and a red ribbon encircled your waist. Rather than the tight undo in the evening, your locks were in a loose low bun that rested on the nape of your neck.

Your eldest brother Frederick led the entourage that would accompany the Tsesarevich, his own court and royal guard around Copenhagen.

Arriving minutes earlier, you approach your mother Queen Louise standing in her green morning ensemble and greet her with a kiss on the cheek.

“You must impress the Tsarina, Minnie. She has always asked me so many questions, so perhaps it is time for you to answer them for yourself.”

Was she really going to interrogate you to see if you were a perfect match for her son? The son she had meticulously watched over for his upbringing and education? The one who will lead one of the greatest powers of the continent?

Strategically, your mother situates you between her and the Tsarina Maria Alexandrovna. The Tsarina envelopes warm, gentle hands around your own. You could feel how gaunt and frail her fingers felt around you, a tall yet petite woman due to her poor health.

“What do you often do in your free time, Princess Dagmar? A young woman these days must engage herself in many things, yes?” Maria asks you solemnly, her soulful eyes peering onto you.

“I play the piano-forte, read, paint, swim, ride horses, sew, embroider, cook and clean, among many things, Your Imperial Majesty.”

Lady Jessica looks upon you approvingly. “You know how to swim? Not many accomplished men can do that, but you can. My, how astonishing!”

“My daughters joined their brothers for swimming lessons taught by a female swimming coach, Jessica.” Your mother proudly comments.

The private breakfast you have with the two queens continues smoothly and amicably, engaging in friendly conversation and sharing stories of your early childhood and comparing it to the upbringings of her brood.

You do not miss the mannerism from the Tsarina that her son mirrors, how their eyes glimmer the same way when it hits the light or how they recoil in humility and yet embarrassment when they are complimented for their wit or their natural charm. 

“You have a certain determination to you, Minnie. You would do well as a Tsarina.” the Empress jests with her rare smile, but you know in this society, nothing is fully spelled out to you directly, but spoken between the lines.

A secret language with its own code and signals. The wind was blowing you towards Russia’s direction. And with the Empress and his mother in favour, the prospect of you giving up your life entirely to St. Petersburg both thrilled and scared you.

                                                           ...

[atlanticinfocus]

From Photos of the Week: Meerkat Serenade, Golden Skull, Hypoxic Tent, one of 35 photos. A gibbon walks amid models of vehicles at a zoo in the park of miniatures in Bakhchisaray, Crimea, on May 24, 2021. (Alexey Pavlishak / Reuters)

[vermillionhugh]

Lord Cardigan Miniature Bust Painting Project Nears Completion. Oils Over Watercolours. Hughfiguren. #fineartistsofinstagram #paintersofinstagram #traditionalpainting #artistsofinstagram #lordcardigan #chargeofthelightbrigade #britishhussars #bustpainting #bust #miniature #miniatureart #figurepaintinghobby #figurepainting #oilpainting #cgsmilitaryfigures #hughfiguren #vermillionhugh #paintingtherapy #crimea https://www.instagram.com/p/BzgiDgfnKwS/?igshid=bu5go8i843dn

[joseifworldblog]

 At a glance it might look like a scene out of King Kong - but if you look more closely at this picture you’ll see this ape is not so great!   It’s actually a normal sized gibbon striding across a miniature car park at a model village in Bakhchisaray, Crimea.   We’ve included the picture in our selection of some of the best images taken around the world this week. Tap the link in our bio to see more. (📸: REUTERS/Alexey Pavlishak) Follow @joseifworldblog.page For more updates #gibbon #ape #miniature#joseifworld #marcucipal #rodneyking #petemcbride #cnnnews #silent #archive #guinessworldrecords #worldwide #worldnews #gorilla #animals #weather #nbcnews #naijanews #cbstv #bbcearth #bbcnews #unitedstates #nigeria #instagram #instablog9ja #earthfocus #naturephotography #washingtonpost #nepal #worldstar (at Gorilla) https://www.instagram.com/p/CPkoXjwssWH/?utm_medium=tumblr

[radovanrybovic]

My first try on 54mm historic figure: 30th Regiment on foot, Crimea 1854, @raulatorre resin precious cast from @abteilung502 First WIP - face. 💂🏻📯🖌👁 Moj prvy pokus o historiku v 54mm: 30. pesi regiment, Krym 1854, Latorreho chutovka v resine od Abteilung 502. Prve WIPko - ksicht. . . . . #miniature #miniatures #miniaturepainting #miniatureart #54mm #54mmminiatures #workinprogress #acrylicpainting #acrylic #crimeanwar #crimea1854 #hostoricminiatures #paintinglatorre #historicfigs #latorre #raulgarcialatorre #abteilung502 #wipmonday https://www.instagram.com/p/Co5qVXhNjUQ/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[searuss8]

[theculturedmarxist]

“Russian trying to revise history,” says Historical Revisionist

https://www.bloomberg.com/view/articles/2018-08-22/yeltsin-s-role-in-soviet-union-gets-the-revisionist-treatment

Only 27 years after the failure of a coup meant to keep the Soviet Union alive, some of the people who helped crush the revolt are doing their best to blacken their own victory.

It’s been many years since Russia celebrated an anniversary of those three days, Aug. 19-21, 1991. Resolute action by Russia’s first president, Boris Yeltsin, and by tens of thousands of Muscovites, stopped an attempt by almost the entire Soviet leadership of the time (minus President Mikhail Gorbachev, locked up by the plotters at his villa in Crimea) to seize power and restore a centralized Communist state. But nostalgia for the Soviet Union and Russia’s imperial past are now part of the official Kremlin ideology: President Vladimir Putin has called the collapse of the Soviet Union, which swiftly followed the collapse of the coup, the “greatest geopolitical catastrophe of the century.”

Yet there have been few high-profile attempts to contradict the official narrative of the coup, laid out in Yeltsin’s 1994 book, “The Struggle for Russia.” Putin has never publicly criticized Yeltsin, who chose him as his successor.

This year, however, Alexander Rutskoy, a highly decorated air force veteran and Yeltsin’s vice president in 1991, challenged key points of Yeltsin’s story. Rutskoy has long since turned against Yeltsin; he took part in an attempt to depose him in 1993. But the first Russian president amnestied Rutskoy and allowed him to continue his political career (he would later serve as a regional governor) — not least because, as Yeltsin wrote, “during the [1991] coup Rutskoy showed military firmness, which helped him win my trust.”

That makes the former vice president’s new account of the coup more than a mere act of belated political vengeance (Yeltsin died in 2007).

Many remember Yeltsin as the hero who, on Aug. 19, climbed on a tank summoned by the coup plotters to the Russian Parliament building and denounced the illegal takeover. But in the interview, Rutskoy, who was next to Yeltsin throughout the coup, described the president’s behavior as a “three-day drinking binge with multiple attempts to escape to the American embassy.”

Yeltsin, Rutskoy said, tried to seek protection at the U.S. Embassy every time news spread that the coup plotters were about to storm the parliament building, known as the White House. The former vice president says he prevented Yeltsin’s flight.

Yeltsin’s story in “The Struggle for Russia” was that he’d nodded off in his office from extreme fatigue in the early hours of Aug. 20, when his aides woke him and led him, still drowsy, to his limousine in the basement. When he asked them where they were taking him and they mentioned the U.S. Embassy, he flatly refused: “People’s reaction, if they learned I was hiding in the U.S. embassy, would be unambiguous. It would be like emigration in miniature.”

This version is corroborated by Yeltsin’s chief bodyguard at the time, Alexander Korzhakov, who says he hustled Yeltsin to the limo. Korzhakov also ended up on bad terms with his former boss, but his version of what happened during the coup doesn’t veer too far from the official one. But Ruslan Khasbulatov, speaker of the Russian Parliament at the time of the coup and another anti-Yeltsin renegade in 1993, confirmed Rutskoy’s version, claiming it was he who dissuaded Yeltsin from running to the Americans. “He tried to persuade me to escape with him,” Khasbulatov told the Russian news site RBC. “When I refused, he, too, was forced to refuse.”

These details are suddenly relevant because Putin’s Russia is accused of interfering in U.S. political life. Many in Russia – and many far closer to Putin than the has-beens Khasbulatov and Rutskoy — believe the U.S. has no right to complain given its role in the end of the Soviet Union. In this narrative, Yeltsin was an American puppet, a traitor, and Gorbachev at best an American dupe. Evidence of U.S. support for Yeltsin during the 1991 coup has been reported before, but putting on the record that he was constantly on the verge of seeking U.S. asylum takes the narrative to a different level.

The Yeltsin Center, set up by his family and friends to celebrate the former president, seems aware of the threat to his legacy. “No amount of slander will turn Rutskoy and Khasbulatov into heroes and Yeltsin into a coward,” the center said in a statement. “The country will always remember that, in a critical situation, its first president showed himself to be a man of exceptional personal courage without which victory over the coup plotters wouldn’t have been possible.”

I witnessed the events of Aug. 1991 from outside the Moscow White House. I was among the thousands of people inspired by Yeltsin’s speech from the tank. I know there wasn’t an American plot. By reviling Yeltsin, Rutskoy — and current regime figures who mourn the Soviet Union — are, in effect, reviling those of us who defied a curfew and tanks on the streets to take part in a genuine revolution with real achievements, even though many of those have been erased since.

Yeltsin was an important actor, and U.S. support may have been important for him. But it was the Moscow crowd that won the day, showing the coup leaders they couldn’t retake control without significant bloodshed. Were we deluded or deceived by a foreign power? I’ll probably speak for most of us if I say we were thinking perfectly clearly on our own.

Narratives of foreign plots are usually no more than facile explanations for tectonic events. Countries don’t change unless their people want them to. Rutskoy appears to have forgotten that — but perhaps only because Russia has changed again, this time to fit his revisionist version of 27-year-old events.

[epochxp]

Cyberwarfare and Wargaming – How Best to Simulate It?

CIO.com

Cyberwar and all of its ramifications have been in the news a lot lately. Everything from the OPM hack of several years ago to the recent attack on the Colonial Pipeline represent the current state of cyberwarfare. Much of the cyberwar that we do hear about involves big breaches that take down government agencies and major corporations, but what about the actions of the Russians in Crimea, and the much-touted “hybrid warfare” that makes cyberwar part of the holistic whole?

The truth is, manual wargaming has been as much behind the power curve as anything else in simulating what cyberwar would look like between peer adversaries. Anything that is known is behind layers of government secrecy and the murky nature of cyberwar. There are no hard and fast rules for how and when cyberwarfare can and will be used. And that alone can have disastrous consequences.

The professionals are sure grappling with the problem. Take, for example, a very sobering unclassified game I was a part of that was run by the United States Navy War College. They took two fictional nations, both nuclear powers, and put them into a border crisis that was rapidly expanding into a major war. Then they added a wrinkle. Both sides had the means to hack into the other’s nuclear command and control and, for a critical time, leave them unable to communicate with their nuclear forces, leaving them vulnerable to a counterforce strike. My side discussed this and decided (with some sense of horror and trepidation) not to use this unless someone used it first on us. I would state that I am not 100% sure real-life policymakers, in the depths of a crisis and under immense pressures, would be quite so restrained.

Then there are the operational and tactical dimensions. Many dismiss cyberwarfare as simply another dimension of electronic warfare. I would argue it’s not. Cyberwarfare can be used to great effect to render an enemy blind, deaf, and dumb or to defeat him even before hostilities have begun. One such vulnerability is in the U.S. power grid, as was very ably demonstrated in the book “Lights Out” by Ted Koppel. The book postulated and wargamed out a major attack on the U.S. power grid.

The trouble is, many wargame designers don’t really understand the ramifications of cyberwarfare. They see it as arcane stuff right up there with espionage. I would argue that instead, they need to see it as something simpler. Cyberwarfare and its capabilities are emerging, but just like the relationships between attacker and defender, it’s much easier to attack someone than it is to defend against it. Cyberwarfare is not any different and should be reflected as such in a wargame.

So how do we reflect it? A lot of methods come to mind. First, I would choose to give a player a matrix of simple options and varying chances for success. Spreading memes on social media is far easier than, oh say, trying to take down their nuclear early warning system. And releasing a computer virus should have its own problems. Like biological weapons, computer viruses don’t salute, and they don’t care what data systems they infect. Just see the example of Stuxnet. While it was wildly successful, there is always a risk it gets out of hand, and what if it infects a nuclear-armed power? Wargame designers have to keep this all in mind.

Another idea for tactical and operational games is to use what’s called a limited intelligence game where the enemy’s dispositions aren’t readily apparent. If you’re able to hack into his tactical datafeed, well, that’s as devastating as hacking into someone’s radio net 30 years ago. And worse, it’s a whole lot easier to issue false orders on a tactical datanet than it is to fake someone’s voice on a radio. 

All in all, there have been attempts to reflect these realities in wargames, but again, most are considered optional rules or adjuncts to the “real wargame” which is pushing around counters of mechanized divisions or fleets and aircraft. But what if the hackers disrupt the supply chain that moves those counters? Or they cause civil unrest when they turn off the power in the country being invaded? Or they just cause confusion using social media to spread black or grey propaganda?

All of these things have already occurred in the real world or are capabilities well within reach of even non-state actors. We in the wargaming community need to grapple with it as well. GMT’s been attempting to do just that in the framework of their Next War series. But it’s going to take a deeper understanding of what is cyberwarfare in the wargaming community and how that technology’s effects can be understood in manual wargaming.

It’s a lot of questions to ponder, my friends. Till then, Good Gaming, Everyone.

At Epoch XP, we specialize in creating compelling narratives and provide research to give your game the kind of details that engage your players and create a resonant world they want to spend time in. If you are interested in learning more about our gaming research services, you can browse Epoch XP’s service on our parent site, SJR Research.

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(This article is credited to Jason Weiser. Jason is a long-time wargamer with published works in the Journal of the Society of Twentieth Century Wargamers; Miniature Wargames Magazine; and Wargames, Strategy, and Soldier.)