Wellesly Post was a quiet place to trade good, far up on the great Mdolo lake. Captain Karl Seescaulbt wondered that aloud as he tied down his riverboat. It should be a good place for business. A German column under Mauritz Von Gluke arrived at Rubberboot's Wellesly Post. All seemed quiet. Too quiet.

Out of nowhere (actually, it was out from the jungle, if you were a European, you'd naturally assume that meant the same thing), a wave of blue melded into sight. Booby Twistleshout, former street urchin in his youth and the current "bwana" of Wollesly Post gathered his askaris to face the blue menace, who were looking more and more like the Belgian Force Publique.

As Twistleshout lined his men up, Von Gluke spotted some trouble at the other end of the post: the Belgians had brought a neighbouring cannibal tribe to assist them, the same tribe that was marching towards the post! Soon the German askaris were trying to snipe the six-foot-tall ants, while Bobby was trying to even the odds of men felled beside him to those by his hand (yes, even if his askaris did most of the work!). The poor Captain Seescaulbt wondered in his boat what all this racquet was.

Von Gluke found himself suddenly in a position similar to those dunkelbritshers and their Light Brigade. Yes, for there were spears to his right, spears to his left, and spears right in front. He made sure that there would not be spears behind him; and true, there were now more holes in those cannibals than before.

But it wasn't enough. Realizing that, Marty Springmann, Bobby's adjutant, sprang over the wall with his men and caught the blighters by surprise, felling some in hand to hand. But soon he was fighting foes back and front. Never less, he fought on.

The Belgian-native force did not stay put, though, as they started to surround and overrun the post, playing games with Von Gluke and forcing Twistleshout to take refuge in the bungalow.

Suddenly, out of nowhere (again!), stumbled a lost troop of blue coated men (again!), led by a mad European (again!). These were not Belgians, however, but an expedition led by the twin of Corto Maltese (conveniently born thirty years earlier for the sake of the game). Half the men ran into some manoeuvring natives and were annihilated. Much to their chagrin, as these same natives ran back to tell their fellows of their quick victory, they were themselves decimated by Von Gluke.

Meanwhile, Springmann was not doing well himself, taken prisoner with his men. But the cannibals thought it better to sneak into the bungalow, where they viciously fought poor Bobby, who in turn was whipping them. Not one to miss such an opportunity, Marty and his men gallantly sprang from their captives and went on to fortify the nearest hut by courageously huddling on the floor.

The Belgians were wasting no time either, and entered the post and the bungalow in perfect cohesion. Captain Seescaulbt suddenly felt that his riverboat entrepreneurship was over when he was ungraciously bayoneted and flung overboard while politely asking the Belgians if he could be of any assistance.

Booby Twistleshout was feeling just as bad when the Belgians entered the bungalow and did what the natives could not. Bobby's untimely death could have been worse, however. It could have been raining.

Von Gluke, realising that the only way to get his trading done was to get rid of the Force Publique, charged through the remaining natives to get to the bungalow. The Belgians grinned as they took aim on the remnants of Von Gluke's men.

However, their compatriots did not as they started going down; Corto's twin's men were not wasting a second. They did however waste ammunition, and after some consideration (on who to charge), they decided to say hello to the Belgians in the bungalow. The melee was arduous, but at the end of the day, the Belgian flag flew high at Wellesly Post.

This game was played at an OMG meeting, using The Sword and The Flame. It was a decisive Belgian victory, even though their native allies were non-existent at the end.