by By Michael, Special Correspondent
Prague (ČTK) – It is now a matter of grave Czechoslovakian national concern that our German neighbors to the north and west seek to dictate the destiny of our Republic, but were I to tell you that the crises of cabinet and military, the fateful pulls between Chamberlain’s umbrella and Stalin’s frost, between Benes’ stoicism and Tiso’s opportunism, could be distilled into a most ingenious board game, perhaps you would laugh. Yet here, in the common hall of my editorial office, lies The Bell of Treason, a board game creation of GMT Games and Petr Mojžíš, allowing statesmen, students, and staff officers alike to relive, and perhaps to reimagine, the catastrophe of Munich as contest, as struggle, and as a clash not of actual armies, but of cards and cubes.
The Box and Its Treasures
What first strikes the observer of The Bell of Treason upon opening the box and spreading the contents onto a game table are the crisp lines of its board—a diagram not of maps and battalions, but of four abstracted Dimensions across which this crisis is contested: the Military, the Political, the International, and the Public. Each Dimension consists of three Spaces, one of which is an all-important star-shaped Pivotal Space, lending these a ceremonial gravity akin to government ministries in the dead of night. The color palette of these Dimensions, displayed in gently muted greens, yellows, reds, and whites, speaks not to cheer, but to the haunted tension of autumn in Prague.
click images to enlarge
Also inside the box, one finds a concise deck of cards – modest in number, but rich in reference and tension. There are cubes, both white and green, representing stark markers of control for the Concede side (white cubes, representing those that wish to bow to Germany’s will) and the Defend side (green cubes, representing the will to instead resist Germany). There is also a rule book of course, outlining in 16 pages the rules of the game, and also a Playbook. As usual with GMT Games products, the Playbook reinforces learning of the game that is as essential as Beneš’s historical memoirs, narrating the historical backdrop for each event, from Gestapo subterfuge to the dithering councils of Paris.
The tactile pleasure of placing and maneuvering cubes may be less elaborate than the grand counter maneuver and movement of traditional wargames, but is sufficient and entirely satisfactory. The cards shuffle easily; the cubes clink with the urgency of telegrams arriving at Hradčany Castle. The rulebook, clear and succinct, expects much from its reader’s reason, yet little from their time; learning the game is as swift as a Cabinet shuffle, but playing it with expertise demands several evenings’ reflection.
The Contest: Gameplay and Rhythm
While some of my fellow writers (and gamers of course) crave games of massed divisions and sweeping arrows on maps, this contest here carries the same pedigree of past GMT titles like Fort Sumter and Red Flag Over Paris. This series of games centers on crisis and brinkmanship, played over a handful of rounds, with each composed of card-driven actions and the artful (yet importantly impactful) placement or removal of cubes.
Each player assumes a faction, either Defend, representing the diehards of national Czechoslovakian sovereignty, or Concede, which are those inclined to appease or fold to the Reich’s demands. What is ingenious here is that players represent not an individual or group of individuals, but rather instead the very spirit of these two differing camps. The struggles take place across the four Dimensions mentioned earlier, all of which are interconnected in different ways. This interconnectivity is dastardly in many ways as some Spaces can impact other Spaces, but not vice-versa.
For example, the Great Britain Pivotal Space is adjacent to France and can impact influence in France, but not the other way around; some Spaces, however, are two-way streets. This rather effectively evokes Kafkaesque logic of bureaucracy yet ensures there is always a method to one’s strategy (or madness, depending on how you see your opponent).
Play is centered around Strategy cards, and like many other GMT Games titles’ cards, these have an Operations Point value and an Event. There is a third bit of information, a Final Decision tab, that is at the bottom of most (not all, though) cards. The Events are color-coded to white for the Concede side, green for the Defend side, and blue representing Neutral. Either side can play an Event that is ‘their’ color, or a Neutral one, but cannot play an Event for the other side (so, a Concede player could not play a green Defend player’s Event, and vice-versa). Blue Neutral Events can be played by either side. And, the Operations Points are used as currency to ‘spend’ to either Persuade or Escalate in a given Space on the board.
At the end of each player’s round, they will have one extra card; this will be used later in the Final Decision round, and can influence scoring then. Making a choice to play or set aside such a card to use later becomes a key focus in the game, as that Final Decision round can make or break your side of the game. After three such full game rounds, there will be three saved cards, and these all cumulatively have their Final Decision effects determined. As I said, this can brutally shift the result at the last gasp, much like a last-minute telegram from London or Moscow.
On Solo Resistance
Now, in terms of standing here (actually, sitting) and writing this, I know I take on peril to say I have not played this in true two-player fashion. I did play multi-handed to get a good feel for the game, but spent most of my time in its solo mode, which is quite good. The ‘bot’ side simulates either the Concede or Defend side, depending on which side you yourself wish to play as.
The bot is governed by a deck dictating its priorities and responses. At first, one may find its decisions arbitrary, but over time its logic becomes apparent – a function, perhaps, of Mojžíš’s sympathy for the tragedy of our position. The solo experience is, much like real diplomacy, a challenge of anticipation and adaptation, and, perhaps fittingly, the automaton’s victory often feels inevitable as the historical Czechs having to give in to Britain’s desires as much as Germany’s.
Stratagems in Crisis
In this game, timing, flexibility, and management of scarce resources are the only things…for whom the ‘Bell’ tolls. Har-har. Ahem. Sorry, had to be done. In any case, knowing when to waste a high-value card for its Operation points to deprive the opponent of a crucial Event, can be as vital as holding fast at the Sudetenland. Knowing the map board’s one-way adjacencies where influence flows but cannot return is equally important, as is adapting to the crisis dimensions that will score in each round.
The game can be punishing. An early misstep in surrendering too many spaces in a single dimension, or failing to disrupt the opponent’s plans may quickly doom a side to irrelevance. The possibility of a runaway leader is present; a string of unfortunate cards, or a clever play of cards, can lead to a sense of helplessness, echoing the very despair that grips the Republic. While strategy is important, there is an immense amount of luck determined by the cards drawn. However, learning to play with the hand you are dealt is just as important in life as it is in this game, so even poor hands can have good outcomes. This is because the possibility for dramatic reversals for defection, last-minute defense, or bold appeasement all remain potent. The clash is not bloodless; you might only be pushing wooden cubes around a board, but these represent a chaotic mess of politics, beliefs, strength, good, evil, and many other things…even treason itself.
Triumphs and Laments
One thing that gives this game a big plus in my book is the theme. The events surrounding the Sudetenland crisis of 1938 is, while not unheard of, a rare point of coverage in this hobby – at least, from the political side. I know of one other one published in Command Magazine many years ago, but that was outright hex-and-counter battle between the Czechs and the Germans and didn’t evoke any of the politics of this, from what I recall. There may be others, but this is at least the first one I know of that really delves into the topic and does it well for such a fairly light, non-heavy game.
Also, it should be mentioned that this, among other GMT “Final Crisis” type games (Fort Sumter and Red Flag Over Paris, at least as of this review), may be greeted with derision because it is short. This brevity is no flaw but a virtue, actually, because in about 30-45 minutes, a historic struggle can be been played out, a result pronounced, and players (or solo-ing it) can switch sides and relitigate the crisis anew. Few games deliver such sustained tension and thematic immersion so efficiently.
But not all is celebration atop Petřín Hill. Some will find the abstraction, with no names but functions, no maps but diagrams, somewhat removes them from the flesh and blood of history. Others may bristle at the occasional sense of helplessness, especially from luck-based card draws, where fate can seem a harsher mistress than any foreign statesman determining your country’s fate.
The flow of influence and adjacency in the game will take some getting used to; players will likely find the logic of these paths to take a play or two to take to heart and understand. Errors will come, but those errors are the best way to learn anything, I think. This holds true too for card play as Operations or Events, and knowing when best to do either.
Closing Notes from the Pressroom
The Bell of Treason is, in the final analysis, not simply a game, but an act of commemoration, a simple and miniature yet gargantuan-in-spirit reckoning with the ghosts of 1938. Every session is a reminder of what it means to stand against the tide, to weigh principle against survival, and to wonder: if I acted differently, might the bell have rung in triumph, and not betrayal?
For all readers and fellow citizens who seek to grapple with any perilous gaming moment, not only as historians but as strategists, as patriots, as dreamers, this game is an essential diversion. The components are modest and simple, yet the mechanics they are utilized as are elegant; the subject matter is always urgent and grave regardless of the side one plays. I always left each game with both satisfaction and melancholy. In short, the sense that history, however abstract, is never far from the table or the heart.
Editor’s Summary, Prague, 1938:
The Bell of Treason emerges as both a memorial and a crucible: engaging, historically rich, accessible, and uniquely tense, it is a wargame for those who seek meaning in defeat and lessons within the shadows of the past. Its limitations, potential swinginess, abstraction, and occasional sense of impossibility or inevitability, are but echoes of the real Munich, and perhaps, a call to vigilance in crises yet to come.
This review was compiled with reference to eyewitness play and the correspondence of experts abroad; the views expressed are those of their respective authors.
You can chat about this game in the Modern World section of our discussion forums
Thank you for visiting the Regiment of Strategy Gaming and riding with The Armchair Dragoons.
Rather than list a bunch of social media links, the easiest thing to do is to check out our LinkTree, which connects you to all of our various locales around the web.
You can also support The Armchair Dragoons through our Patreon, and find us at a variety of conventions and other events.
Feel free to talk back to us either in our discussion forum, or in the comments below.
