Most games invite you to triumph. Halls of Hegra invites you to endure. And personally, I appreciate a game that reminds me that suffering is not only inevitable but, perhaps, meaningful.
For those unfamiliar with this historical gem, Halls of Hegra is a solo-only game that thrusts you into the role of a Norwegian commander in 1940, desperately holding a crumbling fortress against an overwhelming German siege. It’s based on the real-life Battle of Hegra and delivers a nice mix of worker placement, resource management, and relentless attrition, all wrapped in a cold, unyielding embrace of historical doom.
In the real Battle of Hegra, 6 Norwegian soldiers were killed with 14 wounded. In 90% of my games, there were like at least 8 killed and many more wounded. Let’s just say it’s a good thing I wasn’t born a 1940s Norwegian commander. But more importantly, the real battle ended in surrender by the Norwegian forces, in a bleak moment for the Allies.
Here’s a snapshot of this solo-only game: each round is subdivided into several phases. You begin by flipping an event card that’s never good and are attacked by the Germans. These attacks tend to cascade each round and it’s harder and harder to keep up with the number of Germans. Then you’ll assign workers to various jobs that range from shoveling snow, to manning the guns, to repairing gear, to supply runs, to inspiring the troops. Finally you check Morale, and possibly draw a card based on the current level.
Interestingly, Halls of Hegra has various “levels” of winning and losing, ranging from “Unconditional Surrender” to “German Retreat”. I want to take a moment to brag here to tell you I achieved “Truce”, one level below “German Retreat”. But while German retreat is achievable, it’s not really the point of the game.
At its core, Halls of Hegra is an incredibly thoughtful meditation on fortitude. (Fortitude, coincidentally, also happens to be the only thing keeping you from flipping the table halfway through.) It’s built right into the mechanics of the game. Your soldiers’ “morale” will fluctuate with the consequences of your actions and the hand fate deals you, which will, in turn, cause easier or harder events to occur each round. The real lesson in this game is if you want to “win”, you will suffer, but you will suffer well. Your men will starve, but not before you exhaust every last option to keep them going just a little longer.
There is something so beautiful in this struggle. Like so many in history’s endless list of hopeless cases, you, too, will find meaning in your inevitable downfall. Your soldiers, exhausted and freezing, will dig through the snow, repair fortifications, and occasionally (miraculously!) repel an attack. But the weight of history presses down, and no matter how well you play, you are marching toward an (almost) unavoidable end. The siege will break you. The question is not *really* whether you will win- it’s whether you will hold out long enough to make it matter.
In case it wasn’t already clear… Halls of Hegra is brutally difficult. The game demands both perfection and luck from the start, punishing any misstep with a descent into chaos. A bad event draw early on can make your situation feel completely hopeless, but rather than complain, maybe consider this an opportunity for redemptive suffering? Perhaps, like Job, you are being tested. Perhaps, like the paragons of Stoicism, you are called to embrace your fate. Or perhaps, like me, you will simply rage against the dice and question why you ever chose to play this misery simulator in the first place.
But- and this is crucial- it’s also a fantastic game. The mechanics are tight, the decisions are excruciating, and every victory, no matter how small, feels like a personal triumph. The design seemingly captures the slow grind of a siege with precision (however, not having been in this situation, I cannot say for certain), forcing you to ration supplies, make desperate gambles, and ultimately watch as your best plans collapse under the weight of sheer inevitability.
I recommend you play this game, if you have not suffered that grave misfortune already. It is a masterpiece of solo design, an unflinching exploration of historical tragedy, and a humbling reminder that sometimes, all you can do is endure. If you enjoy games that let you feel powerful and in control, look elsewhere. But if you are drawn to the idea of noble failure- if you see beauty in the struggle, meaning in the suffering, and virtue in the act of holding the line just a little longer- then Halls of Hegra will reward you in ways few games can.
Just don’t expect to win.