AAR: 11th Company Counterattack (170)

SITREP

After losing the important city of Viipuri to the Soviets, the Finns withdrew to the next natural defense barrier, the Kivisilta Strait. A small Soviet force crossed at the narrowest part of the strait and formed a bridgehead, and Finnish GHQ ordered a counterattack to clear it. After a failed attempt by 10th Company, Infantry Regiment 61, the job was given to the badly understrength 11^th Company with a promise of assault gun support. The attack kicked off without any armor, but shortly thereafter two BT-42s arrived, providing the needed support for the assault to progress.

The Players

Neal – Russians – Defenders:
372^nd Division

Scott – Finns – Attackers:
11^th Company, Infantry Regiment 61

After Action Report

Location:
Kivisilta, western suburb of Vyborg, Finland

Date:
23 June 1944

ROAR Balance	Archive Balance
Russians 53	Russians 19
Finns 48	Finns 20

Finnish BT-42 (Courtesy of David Bocquelet)

Neal (Soviet Red Army)

Advantages:

• Engineers with demo charges? Sure!
• Concealment-rich terrain, foxholes, and woods favor defense and delay.
• Easy peasy VCs: stay unbroken!
• BT-42s kind of suck.

Disadvantages:

• Every squad has a range of only two. Bad for rural gunfights.
• Fail a MC = pretty much out of the game.
• Foxholes. In them, good. Getting out, bad.
• BT-42s kind of scary.

The scenario was simple in theory: hold ground, avoid complete collapse, and preserve at least one MMC in Good Order by the end of Turn 6. How hard could that be? But on the western outskirts of Vyborg…among the dense woods, brush, and railway embankments of Kivisilta…there’s no such thing as a “simple” defense against Finnish infantry and lumbering piles of scrap BT-42s called “AFVs.”

I was handed the 372^nd Rifle Division (yay! I love playing the Russians…not), comprised of line units bolstered by a few engineer squads. Every squad had great firepower, but every single one also had the same glaring limitation: range 2. Oof. That one detail transformed my defense from flexible to static. I couldn’t afford to exchange fire with the Finns at a distance. The Finns normal range was 4 hexes. I had to wait for them to come to me—close—and then hope my return fire held up.  The initial strategy was to fall back in stages, engaging with ambushes and quick fire before fading into deeper cover. It was a plan forged on the maxim: delay and deny. Did I have the patience to wait? Probably not.

The terrain offered me several key tools. The board was cut with a railroad embankment, an elevated feature that plays like a hillock and shaped movement (and LOS) across the battlefield. Behind the embankment stretched orchard, woods, brush, and a few stone buildings—ideal for layered defense and concealed withdrawal. Two foxholes were allocated in my setup, but I deployed them sparingly, saving them for fallback positions. The problem is, getting in them is easy, getting out of them can be hazardous to your health. One I placed near the board center (40AA10), another deeper in the rear (40CC10)—both theoretically safe havens, both in woods.

But theory rarely survives Finnish aggression.

I spread my squads across the initial line, concentrating around central chokepoints. My engineers held the left, demo charges in hand, while the 5-2-7s held the center and other side of the railroad. I placed my lone anti-tank rifle team further forward than was wise—hoping to catch a BT-42 early on the flank. In hindsight, this was a poor decision. ASL’s routing rules are unforgiving, and when that ATR squad broke (40Z5), their route path curved toward the Finnish advance due to LOS constraints (they couldn’t see over the embankment). That single squad became a long-term liability, constantly drawing Finnish attention and tying up precious movement as I tried to protect or reposition it.

Turn 1 and 2 were mostly quiet. The Finns entered cautiously, hugging cover and splitting their force—infantry swept in from the wooded southern flank while the BT-42s chugged straight down the road on board 40, supported by 1.5 squads and a LMG. I didn’t take many shots early. With only 2-hex range, most of my squads stayed concealed, preserving that afforded protection to incoming fire. One engineer squad fired as Finns approached the orchard but the result was underwhelming. A pin at best. Still, I had done what I intended: slowed them.

By Turn 3, the main thrust had arrived. My right flank began to give as Finnish infantry crossed the orchard and hugged the embankment. One key squad in a central brush hex broke from sniper fire, opening a seam in my line. Another leader was wounded, and another units was forced to rout. I attempted a fallback toward the central foxhole, but the movement cost and Finnish proximity meant I often had to choose between exposing myself to fire or staying put. Worse, LOS grew murky in the dense terrain. At one point, I missed an enemy LOS to a vertex during an attempted bypass move—whoops, classic ASL oversight—and paid the price when the stack broke from unexpected fire. That ruined my fallback plan on the left entirely. The devil is in the details!

The BT-42s, meanwhile, performed better than expected—not because they dominated, but because they didn’t fail! No ammo shortage rolls. No mechanical breakdowns. No gun malfunctions. They simply existed, threw 20 FP shells across the map, and applied constant pressure. I never really had the opportunity to use the demo charge on them. I considered it, but placing it meant moving out of concealment into LOS. I prioritized preserving units over flash kills, opting instead to get an engineer into a stone building with solid TEM and hold.

One notable tactical wrinkle arose from ASL’s routing mechanics. That forward-placed ATR team, now broken, ended up routing toward Finnish lines. It created a bizarre battlefield situation where a single broken squad occupied a hex adjacent to the Finnish advance and refused to die.

Around Turn 4, the dam began to break. I began failing ELR checks (ELR 3) and downgrading into trash. I had one stone building strongpoint left on the right with a 6-2-8 engineer and a DC (40CC8). That position held longer than expected, fending off flanking attempts with limited prep shots. Elsewhere, Finnish squads flanked through the orchard and railroad, breaking a pair of 5-2-7s who had retreated into woods but now had no escape path.

Turn 5 was the critical collapse. I had four good order squads at the start of the turn, including one fanatic engineer. By the end of the Finnish half of the turn, two of those were broken from advancing fire and sniper attacks. The last BT-42 had maneuvered up the embankment and cut off my final fallback option. I made a last stand with my engineer and demo charge, hoping for a pin or kill to shift momentum—but got pinned myself while trying to place it. The demo never landed.

The final turn boiled down to a single unit. One 5-2-7, still in Good Order, sitting in a wood hex. I knew what was coming: prep fire from multiple angles, and a potential shot from the BT-42 on the raised embankment. I chose to assault move out of the firegroup’s LOS, trying to shift into a less vulnerable hex. If he passed the resulting morale check, I would win the game. One roll. I needed a 6. Rolled a 7. He broke. Game over.

Tactically, this scenario is a masterclass in pressure and incremental gains. Every firelane mattered. Every concealment decision echoed down the board. The Finns pushed well, didn’t overcommit the BTs (I did kill one of them!), and sealed off the rear with textbook tempo. I held long enough to make it a fight, but my lack of ranged fire and limited fallback space doomed me once the line buckled.

Final tally: a close loss, decided by a single morale roll.

Scott (Finns)

Advantages:

• Elite morale 8 and self-rally means my boys bounce back.
• No cowering means consistent firepower, with superior range!
• BT-42s kind of scary.

Disadvantages:

• Must break or kill every Soviet unit—no exceptions, no prisoners.
• Only one leader in the OB.
• BT-42s kind of suck.

June 23^rd, 1944. Kivisilta. The western approach to Vyborg lay shrouded in pine forest, orchard, and the bone-like lattice of rail embankments that slash across the terrain. My orders were crystal clear: break through, find every last Soviet defender, and leave no one in Good Order by the final bell. It was the kind of victory condition that reads simple on paper but in ASL terms is a full-on teeth-grinding, terrain-choked house of mirrors.

I was handed the 11^th Company of Infantry Regiment 61—first line Finnish troops, compact in numbers but terrifying in resilience. Morale 8 across the board, with self-rally baked into the national capability, meant I had units that didn’t just fight hard—they came back like bad memories. I also had two BT-42 assault guns in support—glaring anachronisms, awkwardly slung together by Finnish improvisation. They were captured Soviet BT-7 hulls topped with massive 114mm British howitzers, and they handled about as gracefully as an old tractor in a swamp with a mortar strapped to it. These beasts break down, fail ammo rolls, or worse, become fire magnets, have paper-thin armor, and get torched early. They’re basically rolling houses of cards with a big gun. My approach was simple: use them, but don’t lean on them, because they’ll let me down. No doubt.

Infantry would win this fight.

The scenario had a single vector for victory: break every Soviet squad. Just one half-squad lurking in the brush at the end of Turn 6, and the Red Army takes the day. That meant every move had to be calculated to maintain pressure across the full breadth of the battlefield. No piecemeal advances. No overextensions. And most importantly, no reliance on a single axis of attack. I divided my force into two thrusts: the main infantry body would come in from the south bank, using brush, orchard, and woods to conceal their approach. A smaller detachment—roughly a squad and a half with a light machine gun—would flank on the north bank, accompanying the BT-42s down the road that snaked between the embankments.

Turn 1 saw little fire. The Soviets wisely held theirs. With a range of just 2 hexes, most of Neal’s units couldn’t shoot without revealing themselves. This let me use armored assault to move on, hugging terrain and advancing in small, cohesive packets. The brush fields and grain offered ideal lanes. By Turn 2, I was into the orchard line, and that’s where I first spotted real resistance—engineer squads hiding behind scattered cover, one of them with a light machine gun. My assault groups deployed into line and began to probe the gaps, trying to draw fire. A few 16 FP shots came my way, one causing a pin, another doing nothing. I noted then that the dice weren’t tilting dramatically in either direction—but the range limitation on the Soviets was going to give me an edge if I kept in my range, and out of theirs.

By Turn 3, things got bloody. My units began receiving scattered fire as I pressed into the central orchard. I lost my only leader to a Soviet sniper—an unfortunate early casualty that could have derailed my rally potential, but thanks to self-rally, the impact was minimal. Several of my squads broke from enemy fire, but almost all of them rallied within a turn. This gave me the confidence to push hard, knowing my line wouldn’t stay cracked for long.

A critical engagement occurred near the right-center of the board where I tried to move around an elevated rail embankment. I’d hoped to thread the needle and flank a Soviet strongpoint holding a brush hex, but I overlooked a LOS through a vertex that allowed a concealed Russian stack to hammer the bypassing squad. The squad broke, and that threatened to create a gap in my advance. I repositioned my remaining forces to seal the breach and redirected pressure toward the flanks.

Meanwhile, my BT-42s continued to trundle forward. I had sent one up the road, staying just below the embankment, and the other followed at a short distance. They weren’t doing much—but that was the plan. I wanted them present as mobile firebases, not shock troops. They dropped a few 20FP shells into the Soviet lines, mostly at orchard and brush hexes. The attacks didn’t do much damage—but they applied mental pressure. I had no ammo shortage issues, no breakdowns. That was lucky, sure—but I also hadn’t overused them. They fired only when I had clean, open shots with limited risk.

Turn 4 saw me begin a focused flanking action. The Soviets had fallen back into a compact core, forming a redoubt near a stone building and nearby woods. One key squad with an ATR, previously routed, had found its way into a bizarre location near my own lines due to a weird rout path. That guy turned into a thorn, potentially blocking my routing options or interfering with positioning. Eventually, I managed to eliminate him via Failure to Rout with a rearward leader who hunted him down. Problem solved.

I now faced a cluster of Soviet defenders in and around a key stone building. I needed to break them all, and they weren’t going easily. They had hard cover, decent morale, and demo charges. One 6-2-8 engineer made it into the building. I had to decide: try to overwhelm it with fire, or isolate and encircle it? I chose the latter. I pushed the BT-42s up the rail embankment—a high-risk move, costing considerable movement points and potentially opening me to fire. But it gave me elevation and LOS across the map’s rear, cutting off Soviet retreat lanes. The tanks didn’t need to kill—they just needed to loom, to deny space.

The dominoes began to fall in Turn 5. A combination of sniper attacks and advancing fire broke several Soviet units in the center. That left the engineer in the stone building as the last meaningful anchor. I tried to approach for Close Combat, but he was protected by terrain. Still, I moved adjacent, drawing his fire and hoping to get a flank open.

Turn 6 was the knife’s edge. Neal had one unbroken squad—just one—and I had to break it. He moved out of my firegroup’s hex, ducking into light woods, hoping to avoid a 12FP combined shot. Smart. I had one leader with an LMG that could reach him. I fired, got a good result, he needed a 6 or less on a MC. He rolled a 7. It broke. That was it. The last shot of the last turn broke the final Soviet unit. Game over.

Tactically, this scenario showcased the strengths of Finnish infantry: resilience, flexibility, and strong morale under fire. I kept my movements tight, my forces mutually supporting, and didn’t rush the win condition. The BT-42s, often liabilities, were instead the final nail—not because of what they destroyed, but because of what they blocked. Their presence on the embankment turned a difficult late-game scenario into a one-way street.

It was one of the closest games we’ve played. A single morale check decided it. A different sniper roll here, a better ELR result there, and Neal would have held on. But this time, the 11^th Company took the field. Kivisilta was ours—at least until the next counterattack.

Debriefing

The clash at Kivisilta was a tightly wound scenario that highlighted ASL’s unique blend of tactical nuance and narrative drama. Set during the 1944 Soviet push toward Vyborg, the game pitted Neal’s Soviet 372^nd Rifle Division against Scott’s determined Finnish 11^th Company in a scenario where a single unbroken unit could decide the outcome.

Neal’s defense was smartly conceived, leveraging terrain, concealment, and engineers to delay and disrupt. But with every squad limited to a range of two, his force was reactive, forced to wait for contact before responding. Early missteps, like an overly aggressive anti-tank rifle placement, and some key breaks under fire, gradually unraveled his defensive line. Still, the fallback plan nearly worked.

Scott’s Finns advanced methodically, using terrain to shield movement and smartly treating the unreliable BT-42s as support rather than spearheads. His bold decision to drive one tank up the embankment to cut off Soviet retreat was tactically decisive. Despite losing his only leader early, Finnish self-rally and morale held firm, and by Turn 6, Soviet resistance had been whittled down to a single squad.

That final squad failed a morale check on the last fire phase of the game, sealing a razor-thin Finnish victory. Kivisilta proved a clinic in pressure tactics, fallback defense, and the knife-edge precision that makes ASL scenarios so compelling.

Academy Out!

GET TO THE CHOPPA…!!!

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