As I'm a British journalist positively reviewing a game developed in Canada, this is much the same as risking my life for the freedom of Europe. Brits are supported by Canadian infantry. Otherwise, they'll just keep on chipping away at whatever's fruitlessly trying to blow them away, an often insurmountable barrier to a vital victory point. Even the most basic infantry becomes devastatingly effective in a trench, as only incendiary attacks can realistically clear them out. Their build-'em-anywhere trenches, for instance - such a simple technology, but you can't really beat a dirty great hole in the ground for keeping bullets away from your face. Weak for much of the early game, digging in and setting up a defensive line is critical.
Most RTS games will have a faction that's a bit better defensively than offensively, but it tends to be a polite tip of the hat to the practice rather than a passionate bearhug. Turtling, the RTS practice of building up a heavily defended base and waiting for the enemy to wear itself out trying to break in before you go for them, is still considered a bit dirty in some quarters. "Let's show these WANKERS!", bellowed with the full, furious force of a beefy cabbie who's just been dinged by a scrawny, bug-eyed tracksuit kid in a Ford Escort, really puts the spirit of war into me.Īnd what a joy they are to play as, too.
While some may be mortified by the plucky Brits' stiff upper lips uttering such unpleasantness, I can't tell you how relieved I am to not hear some hackneyed "Jolly good, let's go show them what-for, what? Fnarr Fnarr" soundbyte when I select a unit. Though I did hear at least one cutscene mention putting the kettle on. Apparently, we're incredibly foul-mouthed, angry and violent. Clearly, uber-RTS developers Relic have spent some time hanging out at branches of Wetherspoons, as they've managed to paint a rather more accurate portrait of the denizens of our sceptered isle, whose forces make up one of the two new factions in this World War II RTS 'expandalone'. This much, Hollywood and games have taught us.
Usually dastardly, or at the very least conniving. The British - tea-drinking, moustache-twirling nancy-boys.
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