England was situated on a land, which very closely resembled an upside-down letter L, attached in the south to a bigger landmass. Birmingham was the southernmost city, and if that connection was like the gates to the kingdom, Birmingham was the key.
England was not a large country, around five cities or so, but it was keen on progress and industrialization and just completed uninterrupted railroad connection between all its cities, also laying ground to much improved flow of vital industrial resources for the economy.
But further in the south were stretching the vast lands of the Zulu, and Shaka was eying the nascent industrial power with envy, jealousness and cold calculation. He decided that England would become a major thorn in his side if left unattended, so he sent his minions to invade. His troops promptly appeared on the approaches to Birmingham.
Brave English Riflemen took defensive positions south of the city, where they fortified on the hills. A number of Zulu troops were left lying at the foot of those hills forever, but finally Shaka managed to displace the defenders and moved to the very city limits.
Fortunately, Birmingham was on the coast, with sea to the West, so a Battleship steamed full speed to help checking the enemy's advance on the approaches with coastal bombardments. It was doing a jolly good job. Any Zulu troops that were coming to that field SW of Birmingham were being annihilated, and the advance from other directions was being stopped dead by city defenders themselves.
All England switched to war economy; there was a constant stream of Riflemen from all other cities to Birmingham. The enemy came in swarms, but the city was holding and keeping high the spirits of the whole nation, despite the fact that Shaka was now throwing Tanks at Birmingham. Tanks, shmanks, ha – the Battleship was having none of their nonsense, and whole stacks were transformed into a pile of burning metal.
But then a dreadful thing happened – Shaka tortured his scientists into inventing flying Tanks for him, which were dubbed Bombers. One Bomber, was shot down by the Battleship, another one… but then a third one came and the defenders of heroic Birmingham watched in horror and dismay how one bomb hit some critical point of the ship – there was an enormous explosion and she went down in seconds.
Where there used to be hope, now was emptiness. Shaka now had another avenue of attack open and the numbers of defenders started dwindling fast, faster than the stream of fresh ones coming in. There were some lucky breaks and there was even more burnt metal outside the city gates, but…
There is always this strange and surreal feeling when something unthinkable happens, something so spectacularly bad that it sends you into numbness, that anesthetises you in a way, and you look onto the developing tragedy with calmness and resignation.
Birmingham fell. The gates to the realm were forced in and stood wide open now. Zulu tanks swarmed up via the railroads without any delay. There were virtually no defenders left. London, on the corner of the overturned L, was taken with ease, and Zulu tanks made a turn to the east to even less resistance.
At the limits of the last English city, Shaka, as was customary, made an offer for peace. Peace, right. In Civ I a single city is not much of an asset, and he would park his units all around it denying workable tiles to citizens as further humiliation – territory was not a thing yet.
Pah! was all the answer he got. And then… England was no more.
It is what now - almost a couple of decades since that Civ I game. But the memory of that heroic defence of Birmingham still live within me and is one of the most vivid in relation to any games played.
I have other memories, quite the opposite ones. Like, seeing an AI launch a spaceship and being in no position to send a faster one myself, I've sent a Carrier with a single nuke and a Transport with a handful of units to that AI's capital, which was on the coast. The small task force manoeuvred through treacherous straights and successfully came within the striking range. A nuke, a landing, AI's capital falls and guess what? That was enough to provoke a revolution in this vast nation, with resulting secession of half of it to form a new country. But the best part was that their spaceship was recalled to Earth, and mine had all the time to complete the journey first.
It is this coming to the brink and folding to a worthier enemy or snatching victory from the claws of defeat that is most rewarding. I wish, Civ VI finally got an AI and difficulty levels, capable of offering such moments. Maybe it will.
