Those who make that claim havenвЂ™t played the single-player campaign yet. But is it really? For starters, let me venture a guess here. 'The best team-based war sim in history,вЂ™ some have claimed with bolshy gusto. ThereвЂ™s been a huge fanfare over Battlefield 1942, and a massive amount of excitement has been generated during the past few months - much of it resonating off the girly-pink walls of the office. However, this is a game (obviously) and IвЂ™m a games reviewer (what do you mean debatable?), so regardless of the moral tug of war that walks solemnly hand in hand with something like this, I suppose weвЂ™d better see how it plays. But a team-based WWII sim laced with shots of smooth arcadeyness, one in which you respawn every time your body is separated from your limbs feels a little, well, wrong. Six-headed alien invaders from the planet Kthragrok I can handle, and fictitious battles against terrorist factions arenвЂ™t a problem. ItвЂ™s always hard reviewing games based on events as horrendous as WWII. And this one is no exception, though it does have a fair old go. And because no game, no matter how much it tries will ever replicate the true horrors of war. Why? Because this is a computer game, thatвЂ™s why. And I know IвЂ™ll die a hundred times more before the day is out. But I'm still alive, fighting the fight, taking it to the enemy. Turns normal, civil, peace-loving people into rabid dogs of war. Instead, my one meeting with Shultz ended in him performing a crude form of surgery on my intestines with a rusty standardissue German army knife. Perhaps weвЂ™d sit in the late afternoon sun over a couple of Bavarian beers, him slapping his lederhosened leg in hilarity as I regaled him with a barrage of anecdotes about 'ze braykeeng of ze vind'.

Maybe we would even have been friends - me a jolly backpacker looking for tales to tell the boys back home (Porky, Dorky, Spot, Capper, Mapper, Dick and Spud - great guys), him a rosy-faced local of a town IвЂ™d be passing through. Had this not been 1942, and had we not been fighting in one of the bloodiest conflicts in mankindвЂ™s history, then perhaps things would have been different. Rudolph Shultz to give him his full name, a porky butcherвЂ™s shop owner from the south side of Berlin.

This morning I was killed by a man called Shultz.

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