7 days, 7 posts, covering the game itself, how it ended up in my collection, some side stories, designer insights, gameplay, and the underlying History.
It is now time to put on some sturdy boots, jump back in time to 1956, and hit the streets of Budapest, the Hungarian capital. Our guides for the journey will be three Hungarian game designers, Mihály Vincze, Dávid Turczi, and Katalin Nimmerfroh, inspired by the events which took place from 23 to 30 October that year, a popular uprising against the soviet-backed ruling power, which became known as the October Hungarian Revolution.
Days of Ire: Budapest 1956 was originally published in 2016, precisely 60 years after the Revolution. In the game, you may choose to take part on the revolution, either solo or cooperatively with fellow revolutionary players, facing a virtual opponent. Or you may choose to engage in a 2-sided confrontation, where revolutionary players will face a single player in command of state and soviet forces, seeking to suppress the revolution and reinstate state control.
This is a game about conflict. It is a game rooted in History, based on real events lived by real people, not that far away in time. Events with dire consequences for those involved: injury and death, imprisonment, exile. Events whose consequences for the Hungarian society and abroad had long-lasting and far-reaching repercussions on both sides of the Iron Curtain.
This is serious stuff.
And gaming about serious stuff might be controversial.
After all, “to play” is most often associated to feelings of joy, even if tempered with some competition and mild conflict, and not with suffering and destruction. The very concept and rise of the so-called Eurogames is deeply rooted on an intentional move away from game elements such as open direct conflict, opponent targeting, and player elimination, coupled with increased importance of process over theme.
And yet, there is a long-standing stream of wargames and other conflict games, simulating, or recreating, struggles, fights, and wars, over time. Furthermore, such games often allow players to take an active stance on different sides of the conflict. This genre of games will not appeal to everyone, and that is Ok! Just the same as military history books, war movies, and alike. Some players may treat these as any other games, in a sort of an abstract way, seeing only tokens and abilities to be used in the pursuit of victory, without any immersion whatsoever. And that is also Ok! People seek different sorts of experiences at the game table, considering their own preferences and perspectives, the playing group, and even the moment.
These considerations could be extended to a much broader range of games, having in common themes that have affected, or are still affecting, the lives of others and maybe even our own lives. Some examples involving different kinds of decision-making (that I know of, but have not played yet) are: This Guilty Land, dealing with the political struggle over slavery prior to the American Civil War, putting face to face Justice and Oppression; This War of Mine, where you are a civilian making the best to survive in a city ravaged by war, with a range of associated moral dilemmas; Article 27, bringing to the table national agendas, common agendas, and the trade-offs of international policy making, with the UN Security Council as setting; The Cost, about running the asbestos’ industry, with workforce deaths factored in; Healthy Heart Hospital, and the health care management. Many economy-based games, where maximum profit is the ultimate goal, or those dealing with national expansion and colonisation themes, could be added to this list.
For more on this, you may read, among others, “
Designing for Difficult Subjects”, by Chris Bennett, from the The Game Design Thinking Research Group, Stanford University.
So, what is my take on all this?
Well, wargames were probably the very first complex games I played, in my teens, way back in the late 1970’s-early 1980’s. With scenarios mainly set in WWII, and titles such as Panzerblitz, Air Force, Operation Barbarossa, and, later, Squad Leader. In plus, there were some attempts at wargames with miniatures. And other conflict games as well, as Diplomacy, the most stressful game I ever played (apart from competition chess, but that is another ball), vying for supremacy in a pre-WWI Europe, negotiating openly and in restricted groups, making alliances, eventually breaking them while deciding movements in secret, along four or more hours of play.
As for the appeal? I find that it comes in layers, or in waves.
There is the underlying history context, unfolding at your table, with events being recreated while incorporating your own decisions. A sort of passive-active dilemma, being both an observer and an actor, trying out what-ifs, understanding real-life outcomes, so often making winning or losing a secondary factor.
Then, there is the simulation side, that feeling that those places are real, as real are the characters and abilities, factor movements and ranges, equipment and weaponry. All these elements, in greater or lesser detail, exist, or have existed. They are a product of detailed research rather than of imagination, extending your reality.
In terms of game play, there is strategy and tactics, organizing and deploying units, factoring in their specific characteristics, the terrain, the weather, the availability or not of reinforcements, the ticking clock, the chains of events. These are usually asymmetric games in nature, as there are no real level playing fields. And you may experience it from different perspectives, different sides of the battlefield. The objectives may be manifold, as keeping foot on a stronghold, surviving time enough to the arrival of reinforcements, capturing a hill, protecting a bridge, ensuring supply routes, delaying the opponent. And, accordingly, there is a palette, or a gradation, of winning conditions, including partial wins and defeats. This is rarely about checkmating your opponent.
Furthermore, these games feature complex patterns of incertitude, not randomness, related to the unknowns, the fog of war, the shifting morale of your units, even political events occurring outside the board.
Granted, these are stripped-down versions of actual conflicts and wars, seen mainly from a HQ perspective, in 3rd person – well, you may come down to individual characters, with their unique features, in small scale tactical and campaign games - with no civilians around, no lasting impact on those at war, and to be played in the comfort of your living room. And you will go back in time again and again, relieving it, repeating the experience, acquiring and using new knowledge, as if moving in parallel worlds, instead of the real one, where you would have only one shot, one opportunity, a tiny distance lying between life, harm, and death.
These are just some musings from a long-time gamer. Each player will have a unique approach to a game, to these games, just as different people will take away different things from the same books, movies, or music, and will surely experience feelings and emotions quite different from those experienced by their authors.
Days of Ire is not a hex and counter simulation, full of combat and movement charts. It is a rather more fluid creature, where movement, resource management, capabilities activation, and timing, are of paramount importance, in this street conflict of David against Golias.
Why is this so? What was factored in and what was set aside?
Well, games are imagined and created by real people, with their own history, perspectives, preferences, motivations, and approaches. What better than to meet a designer, become a little bit more familiar with his work, and learn first-hand about all this, up close and personal?
Join me tomorrow for Episode 2!
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