Prussia’s Glory

Prussia’s Glory is a turn-based wargame set in the historical era of Frederick the Great, enabling players to command Prussian forces in five of his greatest battles from the Seven Years’ War, playable in full or as smaller scenarios. Featuring an isometric view and the innovative Activation System where commanding officers may or may not issue orders each turn, players must capture objectives before time runs out, with support for multiplayer over internet, LAN, and play-by-email as part of Boku’s Horse & Musket series.

Prussia’s Glory: Review

Introduction

In the annals of military history, few figures loom as large as Frederick II of Prussia—Frederick the Great—whose audacious campaigns during the War of the Austrian Succession and the Seven Years’ War transformed a modest German state into a European powerhouse. Prussia’s Glory (2005), the second entry in Boku Strategy Games’ Horse & Musket 2 series, invites players to step into the powder smoke and thunder of these clashes, commanding Prussian legions against Austrians, Russians, and their allies in a turn-based wargame of grand-tactical precision. Developed by a small team led by historian Dave Erickson and published by Shrapnel Games, this isometric strategy title eschews flashy real-time action for deliberate, hex-grid deliberation, echoing the boardgame roots of classic wargaming. While its ambitions to simulate 18th-century linear warfare are noble, Prussia’s Glory ultimately shines as a labor of love for niche enthusiasts, hampered by archaic presentation but elevated by meticulous historical fidelity and replayable depth—earning it a place as an underappreciated artifact in the digital wargame canon.

Development History & Context

Prussia’s Glory emerged from the indie wargaming scene of the mid-2000s, a period when publishers like Shrapnel Games championed turn-based simulations amid the rising tide of real-time strategy giants like Total War and Warcraft III. Boku Strategy Games, founded by Dave Erickson—a renowned researcher whose obsessive detail work defined the genre—built upon the engine of their 2004 predecessor, Dragoon: The Prussian War Machine. Released on November 18, 2005, for Windows via CD-ROM at $44.95, it targeted a dedicated audience craving authenticity over accessibility. Erickson’s vision was clear: digitally revive the “grand-tactical” scale of board wargames, with hexes representing 75-150 yards and turns spanning minutes to half-hours, capturing the fog of command in Frederick’s era.

Technological constraints of the time were evident. Requiring only a Pentium II 300 MHz, 128 MB RAM, and a 32 MB graphics card, the game ran on era-appropriate hardware but locked players into a single resolution, a relic of early-2000s indie development. Shrapnel’s press release touted it as a “return to good ol’ fashioned turn-based strategy,” with enhancements like new animations and regimental graphics. The studio drew from boardgame inspirations, including GMT Games’ unrelated 2002 Prussia’s Glory quad (featuring Rossbach, Leuthen, Zorndorf, and Torgau), but focused on distinct battles: Soor (1745), Lobositz (1756), Leuthen (1757), Hochkirch (1758), and Torgau (1760). Multiplayer via Internet, LAN, and PBEM (Play-by-Email) reflected the era’s preferences for asynchronous play among hobbyists. As a sequel, it included a bonus scenario (Action at Burkersdorf, 1762) for Dragoon owners, though lacking cross-compatibility—a nod to series loyalty amid limited resources.

The gaming landscape was unforgiving for such titles. Mainstream RTS dominated, but Shrapnel’s niche thrived on forums like their own, where Annette’s announcement hailed it as Charles S. Roberts award-winning fare. Yet, indie constraints meant no marketing blitz, positioning Prussia’s Glory as a cult curiosity rather than a blockbuster.

Narrative & Thematic Deep Dive

Prussia’s Glory forgoes cinematic storytelling for historical immersion, framing its 17 scenarios across five battles as vignettes from Frederick’s campaigns. Briefings draw from period accounts, detailing geopolitical stakes: Prussia’s defiance of Austrian dominance, Russian incursions, and the brutal arithmetic of 18th-century warfare. Soor’s improbable victory sees 35,000 Prussians rout 65,000 Austrians under Prince Charles of Lorraine; Leuthen epitomizes the “oblique order,” with Frederick’s 22,000 shattering a superior force; Torgau’s pyrrhic bloodbath claims 36,000 lives amid Daun’s artillery hell.

Characters are abstracted into leaders of three ranks—animated officers with drummers—embodying Frederick’s meritocratic officer corps: educated, disciplined innovators who birthed Clausewitzian theory. Dialogue is sparse, limited to tooltips and orders like “Advance!” or “Fire!”, but themes resonate deeply. Leadership and Morale dominate, mirroring linear tactics where unbroken lines meant victory; failed activations evoke command friction. Quality vs. Quantity underscores Prussian elan against numerical odds, with free corps like Von Kleist’s adding irregular flair. Sacrifice and Futility permeates bloodier clashes like Hochkirch, where Frederick’s “savage embrace” with foes yields 30-50% casualties.

Thematically, it celebrates Prussia’s ascent—from Germanic backwater to Bismarck’s precursor—while humanizing war’s cost. No branching plots, but variable outcomes (historical deployments vs. altered marches) invite “what if?” historiography, like outmaneuvering Daun at Leuthen. This austere narrative suits wargamers, prioritizing tactical agency over drama, yet educates on forgotten genius.

Gameplay Mechanics & Systems

At its core, Prussia’s Glory deconstructs 18th-century warfare via a hex-based, turn-based loop refined from Dragoon. Each turn unfolds in phases: bombardment, command, activation, action, fire, defensive fire, assault, withdrawal. The innovative Activation System is the heartbeat—commanders allocate points to subordinates, who roll for success influenced by morale, distance, and leadership. Failures inject chaos, simulating messenger delays or hesitations, ensuring no replay is rote.

Core Loops revolve around objective capture amid turn limits: maneuver infantry (light, musketeers, grenadiers), flank with cavalry (dragoons, cuirassiers, hussars like Zieten’s), and pound with three artillery types (including Shuvalov howitzers). Stacking, ZOC (Zone of Control), and terrain modifiers enforce linear formations—forests disrupt, hills boost fire, villages anchor lines. Combat uses a single CRT (Combat Results Table), swift yet nuanced: countercharges halt cavalry assaults; morale checks rout disordered units.

Progression is scenario-driven, with no meta-campaign; victory hinges on aggressive timing versus overextension. UI flaws mar execution—opaque phase indicators, no undo, fiddly group moves—but a 55-page manual clarifies quirks, like cavalry “countercharging” sans movement (imagination advised!). Scenarios scale from shorts to full battles, with a editor for customs. Multiplayer shines via PBEM, fostering long-haul duels. Flaws abound: fuzzy graphics limit maneuvering visibility; AI competent but predictable. Yet, chrome like reloading animations and morale’s pivotal role yield emergent brilliance—perfect for evenings dissecting Leuthen’s triumph.

World-Building, Art & Sound

The game’s world is 18th-century Central Europe reborn in isometric hexes: winter snowfields at Torgau, summer villages at Lobositz, cannon-pocked hills at Soor. Atmosphere evokes quadrigames—functional maps prioritize clarity over spectacle, with earth tones distinguishing woods, rivers, and forts. Units boast historical uniforms (Prussian blue, Austrian white), special graphics for elites like Von Kleist freikorps, and animations: officers charging, drummers rallying, muskets reloading.

Art direction is spartan—disjointed soldier sprites criticized as “jumbles of circles”—but serves wargame utility, with tooltips revealing strength, morale, and readiness. Sound design is minimal: musket cracks, cannon booms, and generic marches, evoking battlefield din without immersion-breaking flair. No voice acting or score; players supply their “clip-clopping” effects. Collectively, these forge a tabletop vibe—immersive for purists, primitive for modern eyes—but terrain’s tactical weight and regimental splendor immerse in Frederick’s era, where glory meant surviving volleys at 40 paces.

Reception & Legacy

Launch reception was muted; MobyGames lists no critic scores or player reviews, with only two collectors. Gaming Nexus’s Tom Bitterman eviscerated it (2/5) as “a bad game” for abysmal UI, fixed resolution, and “crummy” graphics, deeming the engine inaccessible. GameWatcher’s Alexandra Jeffreys found it “relatively simple” hex fare, praising research but lamenting uninnovative play and negligible audio (middling score implied). Shrapnel forums buzzed positively, touting 17 scenarios and PBEM, while Gamepressure users averaged 4.5/5 amid promo hype.

Commercially obscure—out of print, no patches noted—its legacy endures in niche circles. As Horse & Musket 2‘s sequel, it influenced indies like Combat Command 2, emphasizing activation uncertainty prefiguring Unity of Command. Boardgame parallels (GMT’s version: 4.1/5 customer rating) highlight shared DNA, but digitally, it preserved Seven Years’ War simulations amid RTS dominance. Evolving reputation: cult status for historians, a cautionary indie tale. No direct successors, yet PBEM endures on forums; its DNA lives in moddable wargames valuing chrome over gloss.

Conclusion

Prussia’s Glory masterfully distills Frederick the Great’s genius into hexes—activation friction, morale’s knife-edge, oblique brilliance—offering 17 scenarios of profound tactical depth for wargame aficionados. Boku’s historical devotion shines, from Zieten’s hussars to Torgau’s maelstrom, fostering endless PBEM intrigue despite UI opacity and dated visuals. Flawed yet fervent, it claims a definitive niche: not for casuals, but essential for those craving 18th-century verisimilitude. In video game history, it stands as a gritty testament to Prussia’s ascent—a 7/10 relic worthy of revival, reminding us that true glory lies in command’s unforgiving forge.