Vedette · How a scenario is built, shared and checked

How it works

Five controls, a print button, and a file you can send.


How you drive it

Five controls and a print button

The Historical dropdown open, listing the sixteen researched battles from Austerlitz 1805 to the Waterloo Campaign 1815
Sixteen researched battles, by name. Pick one and the whole set prints — Austerlitz alone is five linked engagements.
The Theatre dropdown open: Germany 1813, Danube 1809, Peninsula, Egypt 1798, France 1814, Hundred Days 1815
Six theatres, Egypt 1798 to the Hundred Days. Pick one and the app builds an action that never happened but could have — the right armies, on the right ground, in the right year.
The Table dropdown open: 14, 12, 10 and 8 by 6 feet
Say how big the table is. The forces are cut to fit it, not the map squashed onto it. On an 8 ft table an action is about thirty-five units all told; on 14 ft, about sixty.
The Distances control, showing Inches
Say which ruler you will pick up. Every distance on the sheet is then written for it — and the same numbers read as centimetres, which is the table half the size and the same game.
The Fit to my collection tick box and the My Collection button
Tell it what you own. Ticked, it measures the battle on screen against your shelves — what you can field, what you are short. Reroll with it ticked and it looks for one you can field outright.

The short answer

Save it, then send it

Every scenario you generate can be saved as one finished file — the staff map, both orders of battle, objectives and victory conditions already drawn into it. Three things follow from that, in order.

Save it
The saved file is the finished battle, not a set of instructions for building one. It opens in any browser, needs nothing else installed, and will not change. That’s what to send a friend or the club, and it’s named for the battle — The Action at Niederfeld.html, say — so it’s obvious what it is when it lands in someone’s inbox.
A code rebuilds it
A generated scenario also carries a short code. Paste that into a copy of the app and it builds the battle again from scratch, using whatever choices and tables that copy of the app currently has. The sixteen historical battles work differently: a battle’s code is its own name, so it finds that same battle on any copy that has it. What gets printed for it can still change as the research improves, so if it matters that the sheet itself doesn’t change, save that one too.
So share the file, not the code
The same code can build two different battles on two different copies of the app. A saved file can’t do that — it’s already built. Save it, then send it, and everyone at the table is looking at the same battle.

The longer answer

Why a code can drift and a file can’t

A code is short because it isn’t the battle — it’s the handful of choices the battle was built from: the theatre, the table size, and a phrase to start from. That is why it looks like GE12-SAXONY-1813-9F4C3 — Germany, a twelve-foot table, and the phrase. Note it down and type it in later, and your copy of the app builds that battle for you again.

A code is for finding a battle again yourself, not for handing it on. To give a battle to a friend, an opponent or the club, use Save to send and pass on the file: everyone who opens it has exactly the same scenario.

Building the actual battle from that code is done fresh every time the code is pasted in, by whichever copy of the app does the pasting. As the app is developed — a theatre added, a choice reordered, a new kind of scenario given a chance to come up — the same code can lead to a different battle than it did before, because it’s built by whatever the app does today, not by what it did when the code was first generated.

We’ve watched that happen: the same code building a different battle once the app had moved on. It isn’t a defect; it’s the ordinary cost of a program that keeps being improved, and it’s exactly why a code is a recipe and a saved file is a record. Keep the record when it matters that the battle doesn’t move.


Built from the sources, checked as it’s built

What a Vedette scenario carries with it

This is the part a printed scenario book can’t do: show its own working, on the sheet, for you to check.

Sourced, not invented
The sixteen historical battles are built from the published orders of battle and the histories, and every sheet names what it stands on — to the page, where the source has pages. A generated scenario is not a real action, so there is no history to cite for it: its forces are built to the standard strengths of that army in that year and theatre — so what you field is what a division of that army looked like. Either way, where the record has a gap the same standard strength fills it rather than a guess dressed up as one, so every unit still plays.
Fitted to your table
You say how big the table is. The scenario is cut to fit it, not the other way round.
The working shown, not just the verdict
Balance isn’t a single number handed down from nowhere. The sheet gives you the odds, then says in plain words what actually decides the fight — who holds the ground, who has the weight of numbers, who has to attack across the open, whose command is divided. Reasons you can argue with, rather than a score you have to take on faith.
Reasons on the sheet, not just rules
Reinforcement timing, deployment order, special rules — each is tied to the specific action it describes, with an umpire’s note saying what it’s for. Nothing generic, bolted on because a template needed filling.

None of that changes because of what this page is about. A generated battle is built afresh every time; a saved one is built once and kept exactly as it was. Generate the battles you want to try, and save the ones you want to keep.


The affairs of the nations

Europe redrawn, print by print

Between 1798 and 1815 the map of Europe was redrawn again and again, one broken kingdom at a time — and the print-sellers of the day sold the story as fast as it happened. One print mocks Napoleon baking a fresh batch of kings from the oven, Bavaria and Württemberg and Baden still warm, the broken ones swept into the ash-hole below. Another shows a woman climbing over her own side’s dead gunners to fire the last working cannon herself — loss, defiance and hope held in the same print, nothing invented. The scenarios stand on the same ground — the Peninsula of 1808, the Danube of 1809, Germany in 1813, the Hundred Days — and every sheet says which sources it stands on.

Gillray’s hand-coloured etching: Napoleon as a gingerbread baker drawing a tray of small kings from an oven
James Gillray · 23 January 1806 Tiddy-Doll, the great French Gingerbread-Baker, drawing out a new Batch of Kings. Hand-coloured etching. The Metropolitan Museum of Art.
Goya’s etching: a woman standing on fallen gunners to fire a cannon
Francisco de Goya · 1810 Que valor! — plate 7 of the Disasters of War. Etching, aquatint, drypoint and burin. The Metropolitan Museum of Art.

The period in its own pictures

Cavalry against the squares

Look at the print below. The lancers go in at the gallop, one more charge into smoke that never clears — and in the same frame, feet away, a woman kneels over the wounded and the dead, an overturned caisson beside her. The words underneath aren’t a cheer. They’re a prayer: Bon Dieu, protège nos vieux débris — God, watch over what’s left of us. That’s not glory. That’s men worn past the end of themselves, going in anyway because there’s nothing left to do but go in. Pain and loss and a kind of hope, all in the same picture. It’s the choice every scenario in the box hands a player, from the first turn.

Lithograph: French lancers charging past the dead and dying, with a battery of guns and infantry in square beyond, smoke filling the sky
Auguste Raffet · c. 1834 Dernière charge des lanciers rouges, à Waterloo. “Bon Dieu! protège nos vieux débris!!” Lithograph. Cleveland Museum of Art.
Lithograph: a mass of cuirassiers seen from behind, closing on a broken infantry square wreathed in smoke
Auguste Raffet · 1835 Carré enfoncé. Plate 9, “Album for 1835” (title as recorded). Lithograph. Cleveland Museum of Art.
Oil painting: Wellington on horseback among his staff, the battle continuing in the distance
Jan Willem Pieneman · 1824 The Battle of Waterloo. Oil on canvas. Rijksmuseum.
Pen drawing: cavalry clashing on a battlefield, a mounted figure falling at the centre
Rijksmuseum · 1818 Death of the Duke of Brunswick at Quatre-Bras, 1815. Pen drawing.

Exploring Officer · £15The generator itself — what it is, and what it needs.