In this episode, we dive headfirst into one of the most quietly explosive debates in tabletop wargaming: house rules. Are they the secret ingredient that turns a good game into a brilliant historical experience… or are they slowly diluting the flavour of a carefully designed ruleset? As wargamers, many of us love to tinker. We tweak army lists, rewrite scenarios, and adjust mechanics to better reflect specific battles, campaigns, and those glorious moments when history balanced on a knife-edge. But where is the line between improving a game and breaking it? In this video, we explore the creative joy of modifying rules, the risks of breaking the hidden maths behind a system, and the tension between a rules author’s vision and our own interpretation of history. Whether you’re a strict “rules as written” player or a fearless home-brew general, this discussion is about how we play, why we change things, and what that means for the hobby we all love. Join this channel to get access to perks: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC-OyOZpU-R7PNBOFwP4mu3g/join

One of the most passionate debates in tabletop wargaming isn’t about which tank was best or whether Napoleonic squares are overrated. It’s about house rules — those little tweaks, rewrites, and “we do it this way here” moments that sneak into almost every gaming group sooner or later. In this latest video, I dig into the question that every wargamer eventually faces: do house rules enhance the experience, or do they quietly undermine it? For many of us, tinkering with rules feels completely natural. We don’t just play historical games — we study history, obsess over specific battles, and get emotionally invested in moments when everything could have gone another way. When a ruleset doesn’t quite allow for that, the temptation to adjust it is almost irresistible. Maybe a unit should be tougher, maybe morale should matter more, or maybe the official army list doesn’t quite reflect what actually fought on that day in 1942 or 1815. So we change things, often with the best of intentions. But rules aren’t just words on a page. Underneath every good game is a web of probabilities, balance decisions, and design choices that are usually invisible to the player. When we start altering things, even in small ways, we might be tugging at threads we don’t fully understand. A tiny bonus here or a new rule there can slowly warp how a game plays, sometimes without anyone noticing until it’s too late. The video also examines the individuals behind the rules. Designers bring their own vision of history to the table, based on research, playtesting, and compromise. Changing their work can sometimes sharpen a game, but it can also erase parts of what made it special in the first place. And, just to keep us humble, there’s always the risk that we, as players, might not understand a period quite as well as we think we do. At the same time, house rules aren’t the villains of this story. They can be powerful tools for learning, creativity, and personalising a game to suit your group. They encourage deeper engagement with both history and game mechanics, and they let us explore those wonderful “what if?” moments that make wargaming so compelling. This video isn’t about declaring a winner in the house rules war. It’s about exploring the tension between creativity and consistency, between personal vision and shared systems, and how that tension shapes the way we enjoy our hobby. If you’ve ever rewritten a rule, ignored an army list, or argued passionately over a single modifier, this one is for you.

Donald Featherstone didn’t invent solo wargaming for convenience—he invented it to solve uncertainty. This video explores how his 1960s experiments laid the groundwork for modern solo rules, AI decks, and narrative tabletop systems used by wargamers today. (Donald Featherstone, Solo Wargaming (London: Stanley Paul, 1973), esp. Chapters 1–3; Featherstone editorials in Wargames magazine, issues 1–20 (1962–1966)) #WargamingHistory #SoloWargaming #TabletopGames

I have just finished building and painting these two trucks from Rubicon Models, a matched pair of GAZ-AAA 2-tonners, and like the armoured vehicles I showed last week, they are daubed in a hurried whitewash over their standard Soviet green. That slapdash winter camouflage was not about style; it was about survival. When the Red Army crossed into Finland in November 1939, it found itself fighting in a world of blinding snow, black forests and temperatures that could sink past –30°C. Against that backdrop, a green truck might as well have been waving a little flag that read “please shoot me.” The Finns, masters of camouflage and patient marksmanship, took brutal advantage of anything that stood out, so Soviet units did whatever they could with limewash, chalk or even mud to blur their outlines against the frozen landscape. The GAZ-AAA itself was a workhorse of a very Soviet kind. Based on a Ford design built under licence and then steadily adapted by Soviet engineers, it was a six-wheeled, twin-rear-axle truck intended to haul around two tons of men, ammunition, fuel or food across the vast distances of the USSR. In peacetime, it was everywhere, delivering everything from grain to bricks, and in wartime, it became the backbone of Red Army logistics. During the Winter War, it was often pressed into service far beyond what its designers had imagined, rumbling along narrow forest roads that had been hacked through the snow or driving over frozen lakes that groaned ominously beneath their weight. They were not glamorous machines, but wars are not won by glamour; they are won by whoever can keep rifles fed and soldiers warm. Those conditions, though, were merciless. On the pls side, the GAZ-AAA was mechanically simple and reasonably tough, which mattered when you were hundreds of kilometres from a proper workshop and your hands were too numb to feel a spanner. The extra rear axle gave it better traction than a simple two-wheel-drive truck, letting it claw its way through packed snow and icy ruts where lesser vehicles would just spin. On the other hand, it was still fundamentally a road truck, not a purpose-built winter vehicle. Deep, powdery snow could swallow it whole, its engines hated the cold, and the Soviet fuel and lubricants of the period were prone to thickening into something closer to porridge than petrol or oil. There are plenty of stories, many apocryphal but all evocative, of crews having to light fires under the engine block just to get the thing to start. A lumbering convoy of GAZ-AAAs will be a tempting target for Ray’s Finns. Hit the first and last truck, and suddenly you have a frozen traffic jam full of trapped men. I may need more tanks. Maybe the T26 Model 1931 with twin MMG Turrets? Guess I’ll be perusing the Rubicon website again pretty soon. Incidentally, these models, like many of the Rubicon kits, can be built in different variants. The box contains the parts needed to make the GAZ-AA 1.5Ton single axle truck, and the canvas canopy is optional. There are also components in the kit to convert the model into an Anti-Aircraft truck (with the gun sold separately). All the models come with a driver, and I was surprised to find the figures were almost complete (only the feet are missing) despite the fact that the driver's legs end up essentially invisible, hidden inside the cabin. And that, for me, sums up these models from Rubicon, attention to detail, even the bits that probably can’t be seen once assembled. 

Something new and rather exciting is on the horizon... Join this channel to get access to perks: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC-OyOZpU-R7PNBOFwP4mu3g/join

One of the quiet but powerful forces shaping modern hobby YouTube is the rise of free review products. Rulebooks, miniatures, paints, tools, and even entire games are regularly sent to content creators in exchange for coverage, often with the promise of an “impartial” review. On the surface, that seems harmless, even helpful. After all, it lets viewers see new products without having to buy them first. But beneath that surface sits a much more complicated question: Does accepting free products change how honest a review can be? In this video, I explore that tension from the perspective of a historical tabletop wargamer and miniature painter. Over the last few months alone, I’ve received more than a dozen offers of free products to review, including three different 3D printers, despite never having used one on the channel. I turned them all down, not because they weren’t generous offers, but because they would have pushed the channel away from what it’s actually about. Accepting a free product doesn’t just mean opening a box; it means committing time, energy, and creative focus to something that might only be there because it costs nothing. That’s where the real danger lies. Free products don’t automatically make someone dishonest, but they can quietly distort priorities. They can pull creators toward what is being offered rather than what they genuinely want to explore. In a hobby built on long projects, deep dives, and slow creative work, that shift can be damaging. The video also looks at the other side of the argument: are reviews of things we buy ourselves really more objective? Paying for a product doesn’t remove bias; it just changes it. We all want our purchases to feel justified, and that can colour how we talk about them. Whether something is free or bought, what really matters is transparency, context, and a willingness to talk about both strengths and weaknesses. Throughout the discussion, I argue that trust in the tabletop and miniature painting community doesn’t come from pretending money and freebies don’t exist. It comes from being honest about them. Viewers deserve to know whether something was bought, gifted, or part of a larger collaboration so they can judge the opinion for themselves. If you care about historical wargaming, hobby YouTube, and the future of honest reviews in our niche, this video digs into a topic that affects us all, whether we realise it or not.

In this video, I tackle a topic that quietly sits underneath a huge amount of modern hobby content: free review products. Since starting this channel, I’ve been offered rulebooks, miniatures, tools, paints, and even 3D printers in exchange for “impartial” reviews. Some of those offers made sense, many didn’t, and most were politely declined. But it raises a bigger question for all of us in the tabletop and miniature painting hobby: does accepting free products automatically make someone a shill, and are those reviews less trustworthy than reviews of things we’ve paid for ourselves? Join this channel to get access to perks: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC-OyOZpU-R7PNBOFwP4mu3g/join

In this video I tackle one of the most nerve-wracking painting steps in historical miniatures: whitewashing a model that’s already fully painted and decaled. I’m working on a BA-10 armoured car and a T-26 light tank for my Winter War Soviet force, and both get a rough, field-applied winter camouflage designed to look hurried, worn, and scraped away by crew boots and weather. I explain the simple but surprisingly effective mix I used—white acrylic, distilled water, and flow improver—and how layering it carefully over the base paint lets the original green and markings show through in a realistic way. The goal isn’t a neat finish, but something that feels like it was slapped on in a freezing motor pool before heading back into combat. You’ll also get the historical background of these two vehicles, from the mass-produced BA-10 armoured car to the endlessly adaptable T-26, both of which fought in huge numbers during the Winter War and beyond.

Did you know a Prussian king once banned wargaming? King Frederick William III feared Kriegsspiel encouraged recklessness—before later making it official military training! Even royals couldn’t decide if wargaming was learning or play.

This week I present a couple of armoured vehicles for my Winter War Soviets, both finished with a rough, field-applied whitewash over the standard Soviet green. This was very much a leap of faith for me. After assembly, I got the models fully painted, decaled, and weathered to the point where they looked “done”… and then deliberately smeared white paint all over them like a vandal.  There are plenty of established whitewash techniques out there, but I ended up bodging together my own. I mixed white acrylic paint, distilled water, and airbrush flow improver in roughly equal parts. The flow improver is the unsung hero here: it reduces surface tension and stops the paint from pooling or beading. What you get is a milky glaze that needs two or three coats, depending on how heavy you want the finish. I hand-brushed it panel by panel, deliberately avoiding raised edges and high-wear areas like hatches and crew access points. The aim was that hurried, uneven, already-wearing-off look you see in historical photos.   The BA-10 armoured car was developed in 1938 and produced until 1941, making it the most numerous Soviet heavy armoured car of the pre-war period, with over 3,300 built. This is the earlier BA-10 variant, descended from the BA-3 and BA-6, using the GAZ-AAA chassis and sporting improved armour up to 15mm on the front and turret. It was meant to be replaced by the BA-11 in 1941, which would have had a diesel engine and a more advanced armour layout, but the war rather rudely intervened. The BA-10 soldiered on in Red Army service until 1945, and a number were captured and pressed into Finnish service during the Winter War (at least 24 that are known of). The T-26light infantry tank needs little introduction. Developed from the British Vickers 6-Ton, it became one of the most prolific tank designs of the interwar years. More than 11,000 were built across an eye-watering 50-plus variants, including flamethrowers, engineering vehicles, self-propelled guns, artillery tractors, and armoured carriers. Early versions had twin turrets with machine guns in each, but this is the 1939 single-turret model with the 45mm main gun, a coaxial machine gun, and an additional rear turret MG. By 1939, its armour was already starting to look thin against modern anti-tank weapons, but sheer numbers kept it relevant and deadly through the Winter War. Once again, captured vehicles were hastily repainted and used by the Finns to defend their homeland, many in service right through to the end of WWII.  Both models are from Rubicon, and they were a pleasure to build. The BA-10 can be assembled with or without the over-tire tracks, while the T-26 kit gives you enough parts to build one of several variants on the same chassis. The instructions for each kit are very clear, but as with any plastic kit, patience is the key to success. I enjoyed making these so much that I have now bought a couple of GAZ-AA trucks from Rubicon to carry my infantry in. Gotta give Ray’s Finns something to shoot at during his Motti attacks after all. 

Are wargaming blogs dying out — or just evolving? I reflect on 16 years of hobby blogging, YouTube, and how we share tabletop wargaming today. #Wargaming #MiniaturePainting #TabletopGaming #HistoricalWargames Join this channel to get access to perks: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC-OyOZpU-R7PNBOFwP4mu3g/join

This Blog, BigLee’s Miniature Adventures, recently turned sixteen years old, which is a slightly alarming number when you realise it means I’ve been writing about toy soldiers on the internet for well over a decade and a half. In that time, almost everything about how we use the internet has changed, and so has how we share our hobbies. I now spend far more of my creative energy making YouTube videos than writing long blog posts, yet the blog is still here, quietly ticking over in the background. That isn’t an accident. It’s a choice, and one I’ve become more certain about as the years go by. When I first started blogging in 2009, it felt like everyone in the hobby had their own site. You could bounce from one wargaming blog to another for hours, discovering new projects, painting styles, obscure rule sets, and historical periods you’d never considered before. At its height, my own blogroll listed more than six hundred other wargaming blogs. It felt like a vast, friendly convention hall, where everyone had set up a table to show off what they were working on. There was a real sense of continuity too; you could follow someone’s hobby journey for years, watching their skills grow and their interests shift. That world has undeniably thinned out. Many of those blogs have fallen silent, some have vanished entirely, and others are frozen in time, their last post dated years ago. Part of that is simply life getting in the way. Blogging takes time and energy, and hobbies are often the first thing to be squeezed when work, family, and other commitments pile up. But it’s also about the wider changes in how we use the internet. Social media and video platforms offer faster, easier ways to share content. You can post a picture to Facebook or Instagram and get instant feedback with almost no effort. Compared to that, writing, formatting, and maintaining a blog can feel like hard work. So why bother? For me, the answer lies in what blogs offer that those faster platforms don’t. A blog is a personal space. It’s one person’s voice, one person’s journey, laid out over time. It allows for depth and reflection in a way that short posts and scrolling feeds rarely encourage. When I write a long article about a project, a rule set, or even the hobby itself, I know that anyone who reads it has chosen to slow down and engage with what I’m saying. The audience might be smaller, but it’s often more invested. There’s also the matter of permanence. Social media is designed to move on quickly. Yesterday’s post is buried by today’s, and within a week it might as well not exist. A blog, on the other hand, builds an archive. Articles written years ago can still be found, read, and used. I regularly hear from people who’ve discovered an old tutorial, battle report, or opinion piece of mine and found it helpful long after it was written. That kind of longevity is something I value deeply. It feels like leaving behind a trail of breadcrumbs for fellow hobbyists to follow. The blog is also a record of my own hobby life. When I look back through the archives, I see not just finished projects but abandoned ones, experiments that didn’t quite work, and ideas that evolved over time. I can watch my painting improve, my interests shift, and my understanding of the hobby deepen. It’s a bit like an old campaign journal: sometimes cringeworthy, often messy, but full of stories and memories that would otherwise be lost. That doesn’t mean I’m stuck in the past. Moving into video creation has been a hugely positive change for me. It allows me to reach more people and have more immediate conversations. But the blog still plays a role in that wider creative ecosystem. It gives me space to expand on ideas, share extra images and resources, and host the kind of long-form writing that doesn’t always fit neatly into a video format. In that sense, it isn’t competing with YouTube; it’s complementing it. Blogs may no longer be the fashionable centre of the internet, but they are far from obsolete. They’ve simply found a quieter, steadier place. For hobbyists who care about recording their work, sharing knowledge, and building something that lasts, blogging remains a powerful tool. Sixteen years on, BigLee’s Miniature Adventures is still doing exactly what I hoped it would when I first started: capturing my miniature adventures as they happen, one post at a time. And as long as I’m painting, gaming, and thinking about this strange, wonderful hobby of ours, I don’t see any reason to stop.

BigLee’s Miniature Adventures turns sixteen years old, and it’s got me reflecting on where I started, how the hobby has changed, and why I still keep a wargaming blog alive in 2025. In this video, I talk openly about the rise and fall of hobby blogs, my own journey from blogging to YouTube, and whether long-form written content still has a place in modern tabletop wargaming. I explore how blogs once formed the backbone of the online wargaming community, why so many have faded away, and how newer platforms like YouTube, Facebook groups, and Instagram have reshaped how we share our hobby. More importantly, I explain why I’ve chosen not to abandon my blog — and why blogs still matter for documenting projects, sharing in-depth hobby thoughts, and preserving the history of our games. If you’re a tabletop wargamer, historical gamer, or miniature painter who’s ever run a blog, followed one, or wondered if blogging is still worth it, this video is for you. Join this channel to get access to perks: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC-OyOZpU-R7PNBOFwP4mu3g/join

The same hobby resolutions… again? 🎲 Painting minis, playing more games, and keeping the hobby fun in 2026. A relaxed chat about realistic goals, motivation, and wargaming momentum. #tabletopwargaming #minipainting #historicalwargaming #hobbygoals

Fresh off the painting desk are two new Medium Machine Gun teams for my Winter War Soviets, and they’re wonderfully chunky little beasts. Each team is manning the PM M1910/30, the Russian take on Hiram Maxim’s immortal design, mounted on the distinctive wheeled Sokolov carriage. With its broad stance, solid shield, and unapologetic industrial look, this is a weapon that doesn’t mess around and dares the enemy to disagree. The story of the gun itself is a fine example of Russian pragmatism. The Maxim had already proven its lethality across the world, but the Soviets refined it into something brutally reliable. The M1910/30 update improved sights, strengthened components, and standardised production for a Red Army that expected to fight in appalling conditions. The Sokolov mount, complete with gun shield, reflected lessons learned the hard way: crews needed mobility, stability, and at least a sporting chance of not being immediately shot while doing their job. Then came the Winter War, where theory met the indomitable Finns. In the forests and frozen lakes of the Karelian Isthmus, these Maxims were often dug in low, their wheels partially buried or removed altogether to reduce silhouettes. Crews camouflaged shields with whitewash or snow-covered cloth, and firing positions were carefully sited to dominate narrow approaches through woods and villages. Ammunition had to be kept warm to prevent stoppages, and gunners learned to balance sustained fire with the brutal reality of freezing metal and exhausted men. Also completed this week is a Soviet light mortar team. The main Soviet 50mm mortars used in the 1939/40 Winter War were the RM-38, RM-39, and the more common RM-40, all part of a series developed for infantry support, though they were complex and proved underpowered because the shell contained less high explosive than some hand grenades. They had a maximum range of around 800 meters, but the effective range was much shorter, generally around 100-400 meters. Later in WWII the 50mm was phased out in favour of heavier models such as the 82mm, which had a much more useful maximum range of 3000 meters.  Painting these teams really drove home how central weapons like this were to Soviet tactics during the conflict. They’re not flashy units, but they’re the backbone: defensive anchors, ambush enablers, and morale breakers all rolled into one oil-soaked package. On the tabletop, they’ll do exactly what the real ones did, lock down ground and punish movement.

Did you know “scale creep” has been happening since the 1960s? As sculptors added detail, 25mm figures grew into 28mm—and kept growing! Next time your troops don’t match, you’re seeing miniature history evolve in metal and plastic.

This year’s project for the Analogue Hobbies Painting Challenge marches straight into the deep snow of Northern Europe and the Winter War between the Soviet Union and Finland. The action took place, as the name suggests, in the winter of 1939–40. Once again, I’m painting the Russians, while Ray takes on the Finns. All of the figures for these first units are from Parkfield Miniatures, although later units may include specialist reinforcements drafted in from other ranges. One of the real joys of this period is that it gives us a second use for all the 28mm winter terrain we’ve already built for last year's project, Napoleon's Retreat from Moscow.  Historically, the Winter War began in the uneasy aftermath of the Molotov–Ribbentrop Pact, when Nazi Germany and the Soviet Union calmly agreed on who would menace whom. Stalin, peering nervously at maps, decided that Finland’s proximity to Leningrad was intolerable. The Finns were newly independent and understandably unimpressed by Soviet demands for territorial concessions. Diplomacy collapsed, and in November 1939, the Red Army rolled across the border in what Moscow insisted was a defensive measure, and everyone else recognised as an invasion.   What followed took place in some of the most brutal winter conditions ever endured by modern armies. Temperatures dropped to –30°C and below, turning weapons brittle, engines temperamental, and exposed skin into an invitation to frostbite. Soviet planners expected a swift victory, assuming that mass, armour, and artillery would quickly overwhelm a small, lightly equipped opponent. What they hadn’t factored in was Finland’s near-mythical familiarity with its own landscape. Forests, frozen lakes, and endless snow weren’t obstacles; they were tools. Finnish units moved on skis, vanished into tree lines, and struck where Soviet formations were weakest, turning the environment itself into a weapon.  The war’s narrative divides neatly into two acts: the Soviet disaster and the Soviet recovery. Early operations saw Red Army columns funnelled along narrow forest roads, where Finnish troops cut supply lines and isolated units using “motti” tactics, breaking larger formations into smaller, doomed pockets. The results were humiliating and costly. By early 1940, though, the Soviets adapted. Leadership improved, artillery was concentrated, and sheer industrial weight was brought to bear against the Mannerheim Line. Finland fought with extraordinary determination, but numbers and firepower eventually told. The Moscow Peace Treaty ended the war in March 1940, forcing Finland to give up territory while retaining its independence, a bitter compromise, but one that stunned the world. The contrast between the two armies is part of what makes the Winter War so compelling, both historically and on the tabletop. The Soviet Union had vast resources but suffered from rigid doctrine, poor preparation, and an officer corps hollowed out by purges. Finnish forces were outnumbered, under-equipped, and often improvising—this is, after all, the conflict that popularised the Molotov cocktail—but they had experience, initiative, and morale in abundance. They were defending their homes, their freedom, and a way of life.  As you would expect, my soviet forces consist of a lot of infantry. I have started with a Platoon HQ unit and two light machine gun squads. I have several more primed and waiting in the wings, along with some support weapons and some armour. 

Every January I seem to make the same video… and once again, this year isn’t really any different. In this video, I talk openly about my New Year’s hobby resolutions for 2026, why I keep them deliberately simple, and how treating them as a mission statement rather than a rigid to-do list has actually helped me enjoy the hobby more — and stick to my goals. I cover my three core resolutions: painting more miniatures without burning out, playing more tabletop wargames and keeping a Battle Log to track progress, and continuing to develop the channel and community with more battle reports and discussion-driven content. Along the way, I reflect on what worked in 2025, where things slipped, and why achievable goals matter more than grand promises that collapse by February. If you’re a tabletop wargamer, historical wargamer, or miniature painter who finds themselves setting the same resolutions year after year, this video is for you. Consider it a relaxed, honest hobby chat about momentum, motivation, and enjoying the journey — dice rolls, half-painted units, and all. Join this channel to get access to perks: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC-OyOZpU-R7PNBOFwP4mu3g/join

Every January brings the same familiar questions for tabletop wargamers and miniature painters: What do I want to achieve this year? How many miniatures will I paint? Will I actually play more games? And perhaps most importantly, will I still be saying the same things next January? In this accompanying video, I take a relaxed and honest look at my New Year’s hobby resolutions for 2026, which, somewhat suspiciously, are almost identical to the ones I set last year. Not because I failed to keep them, but because they worked. Rather than chasing grand, unrealistic goals, I explain why I treat resolutions as a personal hobby mission statement — ambitious enough to be motivating, but realistic enough to survive contact with real life. The video explores three core resolutions. First, painting more miniatures — not in terms of raw numbers, but by maintaining momentum, completing projects, and keeping the painting desk active throughout the year. Second, playing more tabletop wargames, supported by keeping a long-running Battle Log to track games played, outcomes, and trends. While 2025 was a strong year for wins, it didn’t include as many games as hoped, making this a key focus for the year ahead. Third, I talk about developing the YouTube channel itself, reflecting on the growth of the community, the importance of conversation and feedback, and plans to produce more battle reports and discussion-led content. This isn’t a productivity lecture or a motivational speech filled with unrealistic promises. Instead, it’s a friendly, inclusive hobby conversation aimed at historical wargamers, miniature painters, and tabletop gamers who want to enjoy their hobby more consistently without turning it into a source of guilt or pressure. If you’ve ever set hobby goals with the best intentions only to abandon them by February, this video offers a more forgiving, sustainable approach — one that values enjoyment, progress, and community over perfection.

Did you know early wargamers argued about bouncing musket balls? In the 1960s, rule designers debated whether bullets should ricochet in miniature battles! It sounds absurd, but it shows how deeply historical accuracy shaped early wargaming design.

A quick Christmas update to let you know there’s no usual Sunday talking point video this week. With the festive chaos in full swing, I’m taking a short break to relax, spend time with family, and get some painting done for the Analogue Hobbies Painting Challenge. Normal service resumes next week with a New Year’s resolutions video. Until then, I hope you’ve all had a great Christmas and are enjoying the holiday season. Stay safe, get some games in, and keep rolling high.

This special Christmas message is my chance to say a heartfelt thank you to everyone who’s supported Miniature Adventures TV throughout 2025. It’s been a landmark year for the channel, growing from 3,760 subscribers to nearly 6,500 thanks to your encouragement, conversation, and enthusiasm for tabletop wargaming and miniature painting. In this video I look back at the amazing progress the channel has made, the explosion of Shorts, the new friendships and collaborations that have shaped the year, and the big moments across the UK historical wargaming scene—from packed events like Salute, Partizan, and Warfare to new rules, ranges, and hobby innovations that have energised gamers everywhere. I also look ahead to 2026 with genuine excitement: more shows, fresh projects, new videos, and even more community interaction. Whether you’re a painter, a gamer, a collector or a YouTube lurker, thank you for making this channel what it is. Wishing you all a fantastic Christmas and an exciting year of hobby adventures ahead! Join this channel to get access to perks: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC-OyOZpU-R7PNBOFwP4mu3g/join

Every December, as the paint dries a little slower and the dice start behaving like they’ve had too much mulled wine, I like to pause and look back at the year we’ve shared as a wargaming community. This year’s Christmas message on Miniature Adventures TV is something truly special, because 2025 has been one of the most exciting and transformative years the channel has ever had, with subscribers nearly doubling in a year. An extraordinary surge made possible entirely by the enthusiasm and encouragement of hobbyists who enjoy the same mix of history, painting, modelling and tabletop gaming that brings this whole channel to life. In the video, I take time to reflect on how this growth happened, from posting far more content, such as YouTube Shorts, to engaging with the lively comments and conversations that follow each upload. The best part of the year hasn’t just been the numbers, though; it’s been the collaborations, friendships and shared hobby moments that emerged from meeting viewers, creators and fellow enthusiasts across the UK. That sense of community has given the channel more energy than ever. 2025 has also been packed with unforgettable milestones from the UK historical wargaming scene. Salute was as vast and inspiring as ever, overflowing with demo games, new miniatures, and painters who make the rest of us question whether we’re using the same brushes. Partizan continued its reputation for stunning, historically rich layouts that spark ideas for whole new projects. Warfare grew once again, filling Farnborough with gamers, clubs and creators showing what makes the hobby so vibrant. New releases, updated rulebooks and an influx of new players made 2025 feel like a golden year, full of momentum. This video also looks forward to 2026, where even more shows, collaborations and video projects are planned. Next weekend, I will be undertaking my annual ritual of discussing New Year's resolutions and laying down my own ones for the new year. But as we wrap up this year, the message is simple: thank you. Your support makes everything possible. Here’s to a joyful Christmas and a new year full of paint, dice, terrain and tabletop adventures.

In this special Christmas message for channel members, I dive into one of my new winter hobby projects and share some heartfelt thanks with the Miniature Adventurers who help keep the channel going. As part of the Analogue Hobbies Painting Challenge, I’m collaborating once again with my friend Ray on a brand-new historical wargaming project set during the Winter War of 1939–40. In this video, I explain why we chose the Winter War, how it connects to our ongoing love of winter-themed terrain, and why the Battle of Suomussalmi makes such a compelling focal point for tabletop gaming. I also explore the historical background of the conflict, the dramatic imbalance between Soviet and Finnish forces, and why this short but intense war continues to fascinate historians and wargamers alike. Along the way, I talk about miniature choices, painting winter forces, and how focusing on a single battle helps structure a long-term project without becoming overwhelming. If you enjoy historical wargaming, miniature painting, or thoughtful hobby discussion, this one’s very much for you.

Every Christmas, wargamers everywhere face the same peril: opening a carefully wrapped box only to discover novelty socks, generic paint sets, or another mug proclaiming “World’s Best Hobbyist.” In this video, I tackle a surprisingly controversial topic in the tabletop wargaming world — the humble Christmas gift list. From miniature painters and historical wargamers to rules collectors and terrain builders, our hobby tastes are famously specific. The wrong brush, paint, or tool isn’t just disappointing — it can be completely unusable. So is it really ungrateful to tell friends and family exactly what you want, or is it the most considerate thing you can do? Drawing on years of personal experience (and more than a few near-miss gift disasters), I explore why Christmas lists actually make gift-giving better for everyone involved. We’ll look at how lists reduce stress, prevent wasted money, preserve surprise, and even help non-hobbyists understand what tabletop wargaming is really about. If you’re a historical wargamer, miniature painter, or hobbyist who wants fewer socks and more sprues this Christmas, this one’s for you. Join this channel to get access to perks: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC-OyOZpU-R7PNBOFwP4mu3g/join