Air & Space Museum, Washington DC

Last week I had the chance to spend a few hours at the Smithsonian Air & Space Museum in Washington DC. I’ve been previously but not for a decade. Lots of renovation currently underway so only about half the exhibits are available, but the sensational Space exhibits were all on show.

The Crown Jewels of the exhibit are of course the Freedom 7, Gemini 7, and Apollo 11 capsules

Freedom 7 was the first US manned flight of the Mercury program, lofted by an Army Redstone rocket. On 5 May 61 Alan Shepard made a 15minute sub-orbital flight in this capsule. Interestingly, Alan named the ship, starting the NASA tradition.

I've previously seen this capsule in 2008 displayed at Annapolis Naval Academy (Alan Shepard being a distinguished alumnus) but it has relocated to be part of this historic collection .

Gemini 7 which took astronaughts Frank Borman and Jim Lovell aloft for a 14 day endurance test in December 1965. 

The critical aspect of the mission was to demonstrate the ability to conduct orbital dockings, which it did with Gemoni 6- this was a crucial enabler for the Apollo Missions

The historic Apollo 11 Command Module CM-107 Columbia

Cockpit layout for context, from the Smithsonian Institute

And the flight suit of Astronaut Michael Collins, in my mind a broadly unsung hero of the Mission. in his 2001 biography he wrote " "I am alone now, truly alone, and absolutely isolated from any known life, I am it. If a count were taken, the score would be three billion plus two over on the other side of the moon, and one plus God knows what on this side."

And here is an interesting period piece of artwork with the above Mercury, Gemini and Apollo craft drawn to scale, as are their launch rockets

Joining these incredible artefacts, and new for me ,was Neil Armstrong’s space suit that walked on the moon in 1969. Having suffered over the years with degradation of its rubber seals and other components, it has been extensively restored over many years and is now on show in a sealed, climate controlled environment right next to the Apollo 11 command capsule.

Nearby, I thought this depiction of the different Moon race rocket systems was very interesting to depict the scale and power increases acheived.

From right to left in historical order: Army Redstone (early sub-orbital Mercury Missions - height 25m/83ft) , Mercury Atlas (Mercury orbital flights - 29m/95ft), Gemini Titan II (Gemini missions - 33m/108ft), Apollo Saturn 1B with 2 stages (Apollo 7, Sky’s 2,3,4, Apollo-Soyuz Test Project - 67m/225ft) and of course the mighty 3 stage Saturn V (Apollo 8-17, Skylab Orbital Workshop), 111m/363ft). The latter is quite something to behold in real life: there are a couple still in existence, including at Kenney Space Centre, Cape Canaveral.

As ever standing next to an R1 engine from a Saturn V rocket is impressive. It would be interesting to see a side by side with a SpaceX Raptor engine. 

This specific Lunar Rover ( technically it was called a "Lunar Roving Vehicle”) was the test and qualification one used by astronauts in training. It was transported in a folded configuration, unpacked on the surface, and left on the surface at the end of the mission. Note that it is controlled with a hand controlled rather than a steering wheel.

I also spent a bit of time looking at the early satellite and probes including Mariner and the Lunar Reconnaissance Orbiter (LRO). LRO has helped mapped the moon’s surface with high res imagery since 2009.

A most uplifting couple of hours, which also reminded me of seeing the Soviet LK-3 luna lander (the Roscosmos equivalent of the Apollo LEM) and Lunakhod rover, during their temporary London exhibition "Cosmonauts" in 2015.

Midguard Troy

Recently I had a quick work trip back to Oz and caught up with a few of the lads when club mate Gav treated me to a demo game of Midguard, set in the Trojan Wars era.

Patroclus challenges Glaucos!

Really enjoyed the rules and the way that heroes are at the forefront of decision making. Their inspiration (or lack of) can make decisive impact both immediately overall to Force morale.  Particularly apt for Homeric and Ancient era warfare but equally at home in Dark or Middle Ages.

Ajax the Mighty surveils the field!

Sarpedon and his Lycan Warriors

6 players with lots of figs and the game system didnt struggle 

Interesting to see mechanics from many sets of rules (like 

Lion Rampant and SAGA) which meant these felt rather familiar

Greek and Trojan Chariots and light Cavalry clash on the flank

Definitely want to play these rules again!

Stuka Ace: Poland Mission 3

Forward Operating Field — Near Grudziądz, September 2, 1939

By the time the sun broke through the September mist, Leutnant Andreas Voss had already sweated through his flight suit. His squadron — battered, half-deaf from yesterday’s sorties, and reeking of fuel and gun oil — had received orders to relocate east, closer to the front.

The panzers were rolling fast, and the Stukas had to keep pace. And then the logistics train had to keep pace with them. Inevitably, the fuel supplies, bomb trucks, spare parts, and the myriad of other support equipment, including their field kitchen, were scattered in a line behind them somewhere, mixed up with the other tendrils of the advancing army.

Their new “airfield” was a patch of farmland near Grudziądz — hastily flattened, marked with white linen strips, and just dry enough to land on without swallowing a landing gear whole. A few canvas tents, a single radio truck, a fuel bowser already leaking. That was it.

Voss' eyes were on the field hospital tent already going up across the way. The sight of stretchers being offloaded from trucks sent a chill through him.

---

They had maybe an hour on the ground after moving up. Mechanics scrambled to refuel the birds while pilots pissed in bushes, inhaled cold sausages from ration tins, and tried to rest their eyes for even five minutes. The air reeked of smoke, oil, and metal.

Oblt. Adler stood over a map stretched across the hood of a staff car, his cap off, hair stuck to his forehead with sweat and grime. He barked a few instructions to the crew crew chiefs, then waved the pilots over. He tapped the map sharply with a grease-blackened finger.

“Polish units are falling back toward the Vistula crossings. We're to hit one near Świecie this afternoon. Another bridge - this time we destroy it to trap the Poles on this side where Guderian can finish them off. Expect flak.”

He gave his pilots a quick glance as he passed over the aerial photos.

            "Go for the center span. No delays. No second passes.” 

Afterwards, Voss leaned against Berta’s wing under the camo net and chewed his lip. He wasn’t tired — not yet — but his bones had started to feel it. Like the adrenaline could only carry him so far before the crash came. He was used to flying but not with this intensity, and he wouldn't be the weak point of the Staffel.  Knowing the G forces he needed to pull soon, he skipped lunch and had cold coffee while he studied the aerial photos again.  Next to him a single 500kg bomb was being loaded— nothing fancy this time, this was a brute-force demolition task.

JU87 B-1 of StG2 camouflaged at an airstrip in Poland, Sep 39

Mission 3.  Afternoon Strike — Near Świecie, 2 September 1939

The Stukas lifted off after midday into clear skies. The initial nerves of their first day of combat behind them, Voss and his wing mates slipped quickly and easily into a textbook formation.* The skies remained empty of friend and foe alike, almost like another training exercise. A band of cloud build up at low altitude, and their Kette went over them to obscure them from ground observers and hopefully throw any expected FLAK off.**

Then, through a gap in the clouds, Voss saw their target. A big, dual lane bridge of steel construction and multiple pylons***. It would take quite a beating before it dropped, and Voss wanted to be the one to do it.

Following his Kette Leader to the target, winged over in sequence and started screaming down onto the bridge, centre span in his reticle. He had one shot to get this right.

Some FLAK reach up toward them - it was light but accurate and he felt some of the effects jostling him around, making his dive a little erratic. Refocusing, he corrected and sank into his dive, sirens screaming as the Poles beneath him scattered in terror. 

400feet, he ignored a Polish truck frozen on the bridge below, possibly trying to flee across, 350 feet, 300...

"Pull Up Voss!" Adler ordered over the radio

Voss toggled the bomb release and felt the sudden weightlessness as the 500kg payload left the belly of the plane.

Pull up. Pull up. He jabbed his control stick as deeply into his belly as he could. He could hear Milo grunting behind up and the Gees built.

Then — crump!
The blast behind him lit the horizon.

Milo whooped into the intercom. “Direct hit! You split the bloody thing in half!”

Voss's face split in half too, as he smiled fiercely. The trip home was uneventful, almost routine, after that.

Sochaczew Bridge during the German invasion of Poland, 1939. 

--------

Adler was angry. He paced in front of them, map rolled under one arm, flying goggles pushed up into a matted tangle of blond hair. His voice carried without needing to shout.

“Świecie was a success. Bridge destroyed. Confirmed by reconnaissance. Guderian’s spearhead crossed the river two hours later — unopposed. That’s on us.”

A small pause, his eyes scanning the group. They were young, even for this war. Some still had that first-mission shine in their eyes. Others — like Voss — were shedding it fast.

He continued.

“Leutnant Voss.”

Andreas straightened, boots clicking.

“You hit the center span. Exactly as ordered. I saw the blast from altitude. You made the bridge impassable — textbook work.”

A few of the others clapped him on the shoulder, Milo gave him a grin that could split concrete.

“But—” Adler stepped closer, voice low but unmistakably firm. “You were a second late on your pull. I know the flak was tight. I know the temptation to ride it in. But you pull late, and the man behind you might never get a clear run. Or worse — he runs out of sky before he can deliver his own strike. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, Herr Oberleutnant,” Voss said quietly.

Adler nodded once, satisfied. No berating, no humiliation — just a statement of fact, and a truth earned in blood before Spain and reinforced now in Poland.

He turned back to the group.

“You're flying well. All of you. But remember — the bridge doesn't matter if we don't make it back. None of this matters if you don't fly smart and disciplined. That was the difference between dead men and survivors in Spain, and it'll be the same here.”

---------------

*Perfect Formation event - additional action card

** Worsening Weather event

*** Bridge -1#HIT

**** FLAK value 0 but #AAFire was a 6, giving  a -1 to release.

I had a good hand of action cards this time, including an extra one from the PERFECT FORMATION on approach. One of those was a +3 for Pull up, so I felt daring and went for the lowest Pullup to maximise the chances of taking out the target with the single 500kg bomb. I also through some extra Stamina into the Release. The results speak for themselves but I didnt have much left for any Targets of Opportunity.

Getting a bit of a false sense of security without any any enemy fighters around. Yet...

Victory Points

    Target destroyed (Bridge) + 4 VPs

    Cumulative VP total: 12

Prestige Points): 1

PS Next instalment will be delayed due to work travel- sorry!

Stuka Ace: Poland Mission 2

Follow-On Strike — 1 September 1939, Mid-Morning

Target: Polish Bridgehead near Starogard Gdański

Andreas scalded his fingers on a dented mess tin filled with bitter, overbrewed ersatz coffee, hissing as he set it down in the dust. The bread in his sandwich had curled from the morning sun, but he took quick, greedy bites anyway, barely tasting it.

Engines throbbed in the background. His Ju 87B-1, stood just a few meters away — already swarmed by ground crew like ants on a wounded beetle. Fuel lines hissed. Bomb racks clanked. Tools rang out on fuselage plates.

A young Obergefreiter from the ops tent shoved a grease-streaked target packet into his hands — a few creased aerial photos, a hand-drawn sketch map, and a blunt, tired summary.

“Bridgehead near Starogard. Polish engineers setting charges. Army needs it intact. Destroy the troops — not the bridge. You launch at 0940.”

10 minutes. Voss barely had time to nod. He wiped his hands on his flight suit and jogged toward the aircraft. Milo was already climbing into the rear seat, his MG 15 laid across his lap like a sleeping dog. Below each of the Stuka’s wings were two 50kg bombs, with a single 250kg bomb slung beneath the fuselage. A mixed load — perfect for scattering infantry and hammering soft positions.

The excitement buzzed in Voss’ chest. No fear. No doubt. This was what he’d trained for.
Not trenches. Not mud. Flying. Precision. Speed. Fire.

Oblt. Adler’s voice crackled over the intercom.

“All aircraft — engine start. Launch in three.”

The prop spun up, coughed once, then roared to life. Voss felt it thrum through his boots and into his spine. His Berta was ready — and so was he.

He opened the throttle. With a throaty roar from the Jumo 211 V12, the Stuka thundered down the grass strip and clawed its way into the sky.

---

Again, the skies were clear. No enemy fighters in sight — and no Luftwaffe escorts either. Voss scanned the clouds while keeping tight formation on Adler’s starboard wing.

The approach to the target was indirect, meant to come in low and behind, hopefully catching the defenders flat-footed. It worked — until movement flickered below.

A column of Polish infantry, fast-marching to reinforce the bridge defenses.

Adler must have seen it too. His voice came sharp and clipped over the net:

“We can’t let them reinforce the bridgehead. Two strafing runs each — then proceed to primary. Follow me. Angriff!”

Voss tipped into a shallow dive, far gentler than a bomb run. His wing MGs flashed, carving into the dirt road and the men on it. As he swung around again, the infantry had scattered into ditches and brush, but he made another pass anyway, raking the undergrowth where shapes moved.

Small arms fire kicked up — brief, panicked shots — ineffective.

He broke off and pulled hard to rejoin the Kette, climbing into the sun for the next strike.

Then — his heart jolted. Something at 10 o’clock, high. Perfect angle for a diving attack.

He tensed, hands tightening on the stick.

Then... it flapped. A bird.

He exhaled. Embarrassed. Good thing he hadn’t called it out over the radio.
He’d never live that down.

---

The bridge came into view, unmistakable even from this height — the Polish engineers clearly visible, setting up on the western bank.

Attack.

Adler rolled into his dive, and Voss followed, throttling back, airspeed climbing.

He stooped into the dive. One eye on his sight, the other on the target.

Sweat ran down his neck.

Target... steady... steady...

He toggled the release — the 250kg bomb plus two 50s.

Then he yanked the stick back, hard. The Stuka resisted — like it wanted to embrace the ground. His muscles screamed as G-forces slammed into him.

Come on, come on...

She pulled out — barely.

The world steadied. Level flight. Airspeed returning.

He twisted in his seat.

Impact.

Right on target. The Polish positions vanished in a gout of fire and smoke. Secondary explosions tore up the western bank — likely the engineers’ own demolition charges. Voss’ heart leapt.

MILO (over intercom): “WOO-HAAAH! That’s the way to do it, Andi!”

Voss just grinned, panting.

---

The return to base was quiet. Too quiet, after the madness.
The landing? Anti-climactic. Smooth.

But Andreas Voss had dropped his second load of war, and the bridge still stood, for now, to carry Guderian’s armour into the heart of Poland.

A Junkers Ju 81B-1 over Poland in 1939. The letters next to the wing insignia are believed to be white on this example, and it is reported that some of the letters in white and red on the wings of these aircraft led German pilots to mistake them for the red and white checkboard national insignia of Polish aircraft. (Image credit: Luftwaffe)

----

This was a much more challenging game with a poor hand of low AP action cards, and I used all my Stamina points drawing additional cards from the deck. Indeed, my last stamina point was cashed in to survive my PULLUP check. Voss's second mission was very nearly his last!

The false alarm 'bird call' was a "Approach: Enemy Contact (*)" card drawn during the approach phase, but the Mission card had no contact possible.

VPs awarded: 3

    Primary Target (Infantry Positions) Destroyed: 2 VP

    Target of Opportunity (Infantry ) damaged: 1 VP

Campaign Total: 8 VPs