Yesterday, I walked from Greenwich to the beating heart of tabletop warfare: Salute 2025 at the Excel Centre in London. Not your average Saturday stroll, mind you — this was a 5-quarter-hour march (yes, I timed it), featuring a tunnel beneath the Thames, a head full of expectations, and feet that would regret all of it later.

I used to go to the Crisis convention in Antwerp, but since Brexit, that show has become a shadow of its former self — a bit of a Dutch roll (a plane losing stability), if you ask me. So, London it was. And what a spectacle it turned out to be.

Ten thousand people? Easily. The place was absolutely heaving. It took me two and a half hours just to get from one end of the hall to the other — and that’s with a battlefield-hardened focus honed over decades of miniature warfare.

Loot Report: Going Dutch… Lightly

I didn’t go full Dutch auction at the traders’ stands — mostly because I already own more unpainted lead than Napoleon had marshals. Still, a couple of acquisitions were too good to pass up:

• A facsimile of the D-Day top secret attack plans, picked up the day before at a Greenwich museum bookstore. If you’re into maps, codes and cloak-and-dagger military history, this one’s for the bookshelf and the wargame table.

• A wargamer’s guide to Wellington’s first battle — Boxtel, 1794. Yes, that Boxtel. In the Netherlands. Just imagine the Duke of Wellington’s career kicking off right in our own backyard. Who knew we were so… strategic?

Tables, Talks and Twin Napoleons

The gaming tables were spectacular. From sprawling Napoleonic dioramas to post-apocalyptic skirmish zones — some of them were real showstoppers. You’d need a Dutch barn just to store the terrain pieces.

A definite highlight was spotting my evil twin across a Napoleonic battlefield — a British gamemaster wearing a Hawaii shirt with the exact same print as me, the famous David painting featuring Napoleon on his white horse, crossing the Alps. Great minds think alike, and apparently dress alike too. I forgot to take a picture of him, but I’m sure he was a member of the Wigmore Warriors Wargame Club.

I also took some time to watch Richard Clarke of Too Fat Lardies in action, running a Chain of Command demo in his usual cheerful, storytelling style. It was inspiring to see how he turns a game into a living, breathing narrative. Wargaming as it should be.

And then there was the 2mm Strength & honour Ancients table — tiny, yes, but hugely atmospheric. Minimalist, abstract, but elegant and full of strategic nuance. Proof that you don’t need 28mm to tell an epic story.

Dutch Encounters and Old Friends

Some Dutch presence as well, of course. Jurgen and Peter from Bello Ludi were holding the fort at their own stand, and Marc Bazelmans was helping out at the Caliver Books stall — all flying the tricolour proudly among the Union Jacks. We talked shop, compared loot, and tried not to sound like a Dutch concert in the process. Missed a few fellow Amsterdam6shooters club members, though, in the crowded hall.

Over the Thames, Over and Out

The trip back was fittingly scenic — this time over the Thames via the cable car. A true Dutch treat to end the day: beautiful views, sore feet, a backpack full of history, and the quiet satisfaction of another convention survived.

Then straight back to Amsterdam, with the night bus. Why? It’s my birthday today. No better way to celebrate my 59th birthday than with family, and show them my treasures and tell my stories. My daughter had organized a surprise party, so suddenly I had a house full of old friends!

Verdict

Salute 2025 was everything I’d hoped for. If you’ve never been, go. If you’ve been before, go again. And if you’re still clinging to your Dutch defence — staying home, painting backlog, mumbling about Brexit — let it go. Sometimes, you’ve just got to step into the fray.

After all, history doesn’t reenact itself.

Photos to follow. And yes, that’s me — not the gamemaster, the other guy with Napoleon on his chest.