Playtesting: 1710 Helsingborg

[Original post in Finnish: https://huoltoreitti.fi/pelitestaus-1710-helsingborg/]

In February, I attended the Friendly Fire de Luxe wargame event in Sweden. I had signed up in advance to test the new Great Northern War Battles (GNWB) game system, a project by Roger Sjögren that he originally started in the early 2000s. After encountering issues with the mechanics, the game was shelved and remained forgotten for nearly two decades—until his friend Mikael Rosenqvist asked if he had an old project that could be revived and refined. Roger obliged, handing over 20-year-old Illustrator files, which Mikael then reworked and revitalized. 

In the original movement mechanics, it had been difficult to position units according to historical research. Roger revisited the available sources to determine whether new findings had emerged or if the same information remained valid. He soon discovered that a wealth of new research had reshaped the understanding of the Battle of Poltava, the event that initially inspired the project. Notably, in addition to the well-known Russian T-shaped defensive line, two other competing formations—labeled E and V—had been proposed, based on recent field studies. 

The game system is still under development, and our playtest was only the second “public” trial. In the background, a map of the 1709 Poltava scenario could be seen.

Now, a couple of years later, the project has reached a stage where two battles are playable as prototypes: 1709 Poltava and 1710 Helsingborg. Most people are likely familiar with the first battle, either from the popular works of Peter Englund or from general historical knowledge. Personally, I wasn’t well-versed in the events between Denmark and Sweden, so Helsingborg was an entirely new discovery for me. Of course, there is even a Finnish Wikipedia article on the battle, but a quick read doesn’t leave much of a lasting impression. 

The Battle of Helsingborg stemmed from Denmark’s attempt to reclaim Skåne (southernmost area in Sweden), which it had lost more than 50 years earlier. Sweden’s crushing defeat at Poltava in 1709 emboldened Denmark to declare war and launch an invasion of southern Sweden. On the last day of February 1710, Sweden—having hastily assembled and trained an army—advanced toward Helsingborg, where the invading Danish forces, numbering around 14,000 men, awaited them. 

Danish commander Jørgen Rantzau had expected the Swedish troops to approach from a different direction than they did, emerging instead from the morning fog. This miscalculation left the Danish formation somewhat unprepared, forcing Rantzau to adjust his strategy on the fly. To complicate matters further, the Danish commander-in-chief, Reventlow, had fallen ill just before the battle, leaving Rantzau in charge at a critical moment. 

This is the starting point of the game.

Initial Situation: The red Danish forces are slightly misaligned as they await the approach of the blue Swedish troops, who are advancing diagonally across the map along the road.

The battle begins at 11 a.m. and progresses in 10-minute turns using the traditional alternating IGOUGO model. The troops are organized into regiments, typically divided into two battalions and an artillery piece. Each hex can hold a maximum of 18 strength points, with one strength point representing approximately 33 men. Given that each hex represents 110 meters, a full-strength infantry battalion can fit within a single hex in a standard line formation. If necessary, the front line can extend across two hexes, though this disperses the unit’s strength. 

During a turn, several key actions take place: executing commands, engaging in combat, or attempting to regain control of panicking troops. 

We played with four participants, split into two per side. One player commanded the entire army and infantry, while the other led the cavalry. This structure allowed us to divide the game into four logical parts, enabling smooth execution of commands in a kind of “Agile Games” multitasking approach. My role was to command the Danish cavalry on both flanks. To my surprise, some infantry regiments were also mixed in with the cavalry. 

Mikael, the graphic designer behind the game’s visual elements, took on the role of army commander. He had designed the map and game pieces, ensuring a clear and cohesive aesthetic. Roger had crafted the game pieces himself, while the map was printed in Germany. 

Below is a picture of the Danish command structure. At the top was Rantzau, with my cavalry commanded by (von) Dewitz on the left and Rodsten on the right.

In the game, leaders receive orders that they execute to the best of their ability. Players have only limited opportunities to react to changing situations.

At the heart of the game is a command system in which players literally write down the army commander’s orders on paper. This mechanic has been present in war games for ages, but I had never played a game that used it before. My inspiration comes from the CWB (Civil War Brigade) series and other similar games.

The image shows the initial orders issued by the Danish commander-in-chief, which were executed immediately without confusion or delay.

At the start of the game, a few orders can be issued without interference—two for Denmark and four for Sweden. The two Danish orders were both directed to me: 

  1. Rodsten’s right-wing cavalry was ordered to advance toward Källtorp farm. 
  1. The left-wing cavalry was tasked with defending a gap on the western edge of Rinsgtorp farm, as the enemy was approaching from an unexpected direction. 

I assume the intention here was also to pivot the front line, although the commander-in-chief didn’t explicitly communicate this—despite being just a few meters away… 

Unit Objectives at the Start of the Game

In a movement command, a unit leader must advance toward their assigned objective using all available movement points. Units follow their leader, who operates within a command radius—the larger the leader’s influence, the greater the radius. If a unit falls out of range, it must take the shortest possible route back to reestablish contact.

Rodsten’s supporting infantry attempted to keep pace with the cavalry and managed relatively well. However, the first major obstacle was the streams and swamps of Ladugårdsflon. While frozen, southern Sweden’s mild winters meant the ice was unreliable. Any unit crossing these obstacles had to roll a die to determine how many movement points remained and how many swamp hexes they could traverse that turn. A good roll allowed for steady progress, while a bad roll could halt movement entirely. As units advanced one battalion at a time, they naturally became dispersed.

A key aspect of the game is the limited player control—once a unit is set in motion, it follows orders, engages the enemy, and reacts as best it can. The player must anticipate events rather than micromanage every move. For example, avoiding an oncoming enemy without triggering a dice roll often means the original plan doesn’t unfold as expected.

Meanwhile, Dewitz’s division, tasked with a defensive command, attempted to move westward (left). However, the artillery on the road partially blocked the advance, forcing the division to stay in place once it reached its designated defensive position—unless issued further orders. Since defensive units can only move one hex per turn, their progress was frustratingly slow, a limitation that would later prove costly.

At the same time, the Swedish army launched a full-speed cavalry advance toward the eastern edge, heading for the same farm that Rodsten and his forces were targeting. Swedish infantry and artillery followed the road directly toward the Danish position. I could almost hear the thunder of hooves as the blue mass charged forward, skillfully maneuvering around obstacles like forests and buildings at breakneck speed.

The Swedes advance rapidly as the Danes attempt to realign their front. We marked the objectives with blocks.

Since a new command can be issued during a turn, at 11:10 a.m., an order was sent for von Hesse’s infantry wing to reposition. A messenger was dispatched to deliver the instructions to the German mercenaries. However, receiving a message takes time, depending on the distance—and even then, its acknowledgment isn’t guaranteed. A roll of the dice determines whether the order is delayed, misunderstood, or even ignored, ensuring that nothing in the game is ever truly certain.

While Rodsten and Dewitz urged their troops forward and the Swedes thundered toward them, von Hesse appeared to be delayed—perhaps enjoying a bit too much aquavit. The message failed to prompt any movement, and when the army commander, Rantzau, personally rode to investigate, he found his troops still motionless.

Once per turn, a player can attempt to use an initiative roll to break a commander free from a stalled or unfavorable situation. However, there’s always a risk that the commander acts independently—and the dice decide the outcome. For instance, an aggressive commander may choose to attack even when a retreat would be wiser.

Below is the battlefield situation at 11:30 a.m. The Swedes begin organizing their infantry into battle formation, while both cavalry forces advance toward each other on the right side of the image. The Swedish horsemen carefully navigated the wet, difficult terrain, ensuring their formation remained intact. The blue and red blocks in the image indicate unit objectives. Since this session was a playtest rather than a competitive match, secrecy wasn’t necessary.

The battle unfolds as the troops close in, soon within striking distance.

At this point, tension was mounting in the Danish camp. Von Hesse’s German-Danish group remained completely stationary in the center—apparently still bogged down in the swamps. I suspect Rantzau may have had a sip of the famous aquavit himself, as even after an hour of trying to get his men moving, nothing was happening.

Meanwhile, part of the Danish artillery had been left far behind the front lines. To bring them into action, the Danes needed a successful dice roll to limber the guns, but luck wasn’t on their side. The infantry and cavalry escorts had already advanced well ahead, leaving the stranded artillery unable to influence Swedish movements in any meaningful way.

From that point on, action and chaos took over. The first clash came on the left flank, where Swedish cavalry probed the Danish defensive line, searching for weaknesses. Dewitz’s formation was not yet fully in place when the Queen’s Life Guard horsemen, led by Ascheberg, surged forward, already reaching the front lines.

The Swedish cavalry tests the Danish flank defenses.

And they rout the Danish cavalry unit.

Only the second battalion of Bülow’s regiment, made up mostly of Hungarians, had managed to cross the water obstacle when the Swedish assault began. At this point, the Swedes had to accelerate from the rear to close in at the correct assault range.

Since I wasn’t yet familiar with the combat dynamics, I asked the developer whether it was better to hold ground or counterattack. After a moment of thought, he replied, “Attacking is the best defense.” It turned out to be the guiding tactic for most of the game that followed.

Once units come into combat contact, ranged fire is resolved first. If neither side breaks, the clash continues into melee (melée). Every unit type—dragoons (mounted or dismounted), regular cavalry, and infantry—has specific combat values for both ranged and melee situations. The Swedish side even fielded pike infantry, whose combat stats reflect their specialized weaponry.

To model the nuances of 18th-century warfare, the game uses a fair share of dice—nine at once, in fact. These are rolled at the start of combat and then interpreted as needed. The black dice determine the initial outcomes—whether direct losses, disorder, or both occur—setting the tone for the engagement.

All dice are rolled at once in a bowl—just one roll needed.

The accounting system is reasonably precise, with combat tracked using ~33-man Strength Points (SP). Each unit has its own SP roster, and losses are marked off manually on individual tracking sheets as the game progresses.

The units are accurately modeled, and detailed records of losses are maintained.

An “X” indicates a destroyed Strength Point (SP), while a slash (“/” or “\”) represents disorder. Disordered units can attempt to regain cohesion if pulled back from the line, but both results remove the SP from the unit’s effective combat strength. Once a unit reaches the “X” threshold, it is considered shattered.

For example, the commander Dewitz (pictured above) will break if a sufficient number of subordinate units are shattered (“X”). In practice, it takes a considerable number of setbacks to even roll the dice for that—but once the threshold is reached, the risk increases significantly.

Next, if instructed by the table, you check the white dice. These often represent additional effects like broken SPs, and while not always direct losses, they tend to accumulate more easily and can wear down units quickly over time.

Battle tables are consulted using the dice colors—start at the top left.

At times, the situation on the battlefield got particularly tense. When a unit breaks and routs, a morale check must be made for all adjacent units—a mechanic that can, in theory, cause an entire line to collapse like dominoes. This happened more than once to the Danes, when multiple battalions suddenly abandoned their positions, leaving dangerous gaps in the line.

One especially comical moment occurred when a Swedish cavalry squadron, in hot pursuit of fleeing Danish troops, charged straight into the middle of the Danish army—momentarily flipping the chaos in the other direction.

In the photo, the cavalry of Västergötland charges greedily after the fleeing “Zealanders“ (Sjælland), plunging deep into the heart of the Danish army.

The Danes were nearing their fateful moment. With half the infantry unable to move and both flanks beginning to break, their line was on the verge of collapse. Fleeing troops streamed toward Helsingborg Fortress and safety, where desperate attempts were made to rally them and return them to the fight.

Once a unit lost its final Strength Point, it became a ghost—no longer functioning as a combat force. These were marked with Hattifattener tokens (a nod to the spectral creatures from the Moomins). While these ghost counters no longer represented active troops, they served an important purpose: they marked the spot where remnants could potentially be reassembled or recovered later in the battle.

The Danish right flank braces for a final stand against a double threat. On the opposite side, the left flank scrambled to contain the Swedish cavalry pouring through the lines—but it was too late. Most of the defenders were soon overwhelmed.

On the right, Rodsten’s troops fought to the bitter end. As mentioned earlier, attack is the best defense, and with no better option, a counterattack was launched—one last gamble to shatter the Swedes and open an escape route. For a brief moment, it looked like the bold move might pay off.

But the tide turned quickly. The second infantry battalion of the Prince Kristian Regiment, Denmark’s last reserve, moved in to stop the Swedes—only to break almost immediately upon contact. The foot soldiers had no chance against the cavalry, and their attempt to retreat turned into a routed massacre, crushed in a chaotic and one-sided pursuit.

General Rodsten’s final assault came close to success.

But soon, it was all over. The Danish line collapsed from every direction, and what came next would have been slaughter—so we decided to call it. After nearly 14 hours of play, we packed up at 11 p.m., having started at 9 in the morning with two meal breaks along the way.

Roger looked visibly satisfied. The game had been pushed to its limits, and many of the major flaws had come to light. The core mechanics held up well, requiring little change—what the system really needs now is clearer and more comprehensive documentation. We asked a handful of clarifying questions during the day, and several details of the map and markers came up for discussion.

The game system is heavy, and Roger himself describes it as being at “grognard level.” That didn’t bother us, though—we’re all grognards here. 😊

For me personally, the day was a deep dive into a significant moment in Nordic history—one I had known almost nothing about before this experience. And despite the system’s complexity, it delivered something rare in gaming: a real sense of being there, right in the thick of a major battle.

If the project makes it to publication, it might be worth considering a lighter version of the rules to help bring in a broader audience. A more accessible edition could open the Battle of Helsingborg to many more players—while still preserving the immersive, strategic richness that made this playtest so memorable.


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