It all started quietly on the Friday afternoon when a gentleman knocked at my door and said "G'day, guess what time I had to get up to be here at 2:00 o'clock?"

We loaded the "meat wagon" and set off to Sheffield, going the scenic way via Berko and Hemel finally making the great and crowded M1. Northbound at last! Four hours latter and after certain member had consumed coffee and sticky cream cakes we arrived much relaxed at the Hotel in Sheffield. The usual confusion of the room booking ritual was as usual and 30 minutes latter, showered shampooed and other 'esses' we congregated in the bar for the first major shock of the weekend; RP bought a round! We were joined at this stage by a well known man in blue who for obvious reasons does not use Brycreeme!

The walk to Fat Sam's (or Jacks dependent on the alcohol level in the bloodstream) was unusually wet for a spring evening in Northern England; actually it was persistently precipitating!

Arriving at Sam's we were all pleasantly surprised by the new decor and lack of students - the holidays had started. The gauntlet was laid down in the ritual of eating and drinking quantities that would have taxed Mr Creosote greatly and the Winner was declared as our very own Ian - the taxi not the colonial variety.

The walk back to the hotel was nearly as wet as the walk to the eatery, however the extra weight and liquid consumption seemed to slow the proceeding down some what.

On returning to the hotel the bar man was challenged to supply the refreshment and the games commenced. A grand game of Formula One was enjoyed by one and all with the highlight being the large amount of engine damage caused by a Thompson (the younger one not yet lost) by the unfeasible large numbers of '20's rolled. The game finished sometime on Saturday and I personally can not remember who won (remember winning is the reason we all game). A word of caution to our younger readers drinking and driving 'is bad m'kay!', also remember it does impair your gaming too (-;]

The dawn was wet but the breakfast was good with black pudding and as much cholesterol as could be stacked on a plate. The short journey to Octagon led to another of the weekends shocks! We had to pay to enter as there was no competition this year. We could have been third as only two other teams entered: the Bun Shop and the Wessex lads.

The morning was spent reconnoitring who to spend money with and some members even spent the odd few shillings. By lunch time we had been invited to join a Severn Years Wars game played using Piquet, but we postponed that to the Sunday. Some of us decided to kill a shed full of Bugs as we commanded Mobile Infantry armed with nukes, pulse rifles, machine guns and even a psychic. The Tring Club supplied two star players, myself and Adrain, who in his normal style (gung ho or what) took over and won the game to the dismay of COGs. The bugs has always won so far! There were several highlights to the game but I will bore you with two only:

One, never let a serving member of Her Majesties Air Force command air strikes they invariably miss - there are numerous numbers of this occurrence in Tring Clubs history! and

Two, combining a jump pack with a reloadable nuke launcher is an excellent way to upset the bug player! A copy of the rules is available on the web at

www.c-o-g-s.org.uk/trooper_rules.html.

After the fun of beating the bugs, it was back to the hotel to refresh and prepare for the evenings nourishment. The kind colonial gentleman ran a thoughtful taxi service down to Sam's so that he, Adrain (with help from the staff) could throw cold beverage over yours truly. An exchange of seats with Russall, allowed the beer soaked jeans to dry next to the radiator. After the banquet the return to the Hotel for some stronger drinks and another game of Formula One. The result of the Grand Prix, this time in China was clouded in the memory by the further consumption of strong spirits.

On day 2 the dawn was damp but sunny, but the breakfast was again good with black pudding and as much cholesterol as could be stacked on a plate (is this Deja Vu?). Following the short journey to Octagon, the Austrians (commanded by a Belgian Welshman) attempted to beat the Prussian commanded by Fredrick the Great Ransomme assisted by Colonial Calvary commanders. The original cavalry commander had to fly at lunch time - back to Scotland via Scarborough.

The rule system was ably demonstrated by the lads from Illkley (on bar tat!), so well in fact, that three copies of Piquet and the 17th Century supplement was purchased.

Piquet is a novel approach to rules, which by using a card system forces the decisions on what and when and where on the battlefield is very frustrating but very entertaining. An excellent set of rules that will fit the way Tring likes top play games; lots of fun. The final result after playing for 5 hours (which went very quickly) was a massive victory to the Austrians: well ok a tactical draw!

In all the excitement of the game it proved quite difficult to spend the odd pound or two on figures and the like, but we made great efforts and managed to fill a few carrier bags with lead etc.

The return journey to Tring was to the accompaniment of Bing Crosby (honest, singing songs from the 20s and 30s) but the route was convoluted going the scenic way via Hemel and Berko finally making Tring last. Another four hours journey was over only slightly delayed by after the same certain member consuming coffee and sticky cream cakes on route, ok the traffic and weather had an effect.

What a great weekends entertainment and we all seemed actual not to have missed the completions as we were all to busy playing games.

Henry