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(First posted on the SFConsim-L mailing list on February 13 1998; posted on the ArmourSoft web site in 2001)

What Would Happen if World War II Was Fought Like Many Modern Science Fiction Wargames

I got to thinking about this a while back when I was hanging around at a small game convention, listening to a couple of US Army officer/instructors bemoan the fact that today's young'ins aren't as interested in historical wargaming as they were a few decades ago. So I sez to myself, what we really need here is a WWII game that plays just like the typical sci fi miniatures wargames that are popular with kids today.

O' course, in Warhammer type games, the lowest-ranking soldiers are the weakest and the higher in rank a person is, the more powerful he is in combat, so a major or colonel would be really awesome. The logical conclusion of this is that the absolutely most powerful things in the game would be the national leaders, which is (I think) how it works in the Games Workshop games.

I can see it now [fade to daydream sequence]:

"Franklin D. Roosevelt strode across the battlefield, the carnage of destruction around him everywhere. He paused to grimace, his muscles rippling through his torn shirt. Then he grimaced again. He surveyed the mighty weaponry clenched in his mighty fists. In one hand, he held a radio upon which to call massive artillery strikes. In the other hand, he held another radio, to call massive air strikes. In the other hand, he held yet another radio, to call in bombardments from the hundreds of battleships offshore. In the other hand, he held another radio, for calling up his factories to demand production of yet more awesome weaponry.

Off to Roosevelt's left, he could see his ally, Winston Churchill, standing victoriously atop a destroyed panzer, cape flowing in the wind. The embers of Churchill's armour-piercing-shell-spitting cigar glowed in the falling darkness. Suddenly, off on the horizon, a dread new enemy stood defiantly! Benito Mussolini posed with his arms on his hips, mouth pouting, spiked shoulder pads bristling in the cold air. Roosevelt grimaced."

Well, then again, maybe not.

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