AS
11-14-06, 12:01 PM
Hi all! Now that Iīm an experienced U-Boat Kaleun I feel itīs time to face the truth: It is more difficult to survive and sink ships in SH3 than it was in real life. In the following passage Iīll list some reasons why SH3 is harder than any real life U-Boat experience in WW2: Day 1: Monotony Another patrol to come. Everytime I leave port itīs the same lousy music, the same nurses and the same jerk trying to kick-start this same motorcycle. Who wants to get back home when this is all thatīs waiting for you? Day 2: In the Kindergarten My green crew is so excited about actually being in a REAL harbor that they keep on yelling "Ship spotted Sir" like a school class on a field trip. I wouldnīt be surprised if my over-active radio-man said to me: "Are you watching? You must watch, Sir! Look, how cool I operate all that stuff in front of me... Hey, you arenīt watching! Day 3: What are these guys actually DOING here? Donīt know about you, but MY crew doesnīt know anything about how to operate a U-Boat. I told those three guys in the control room that there IS NO NEED TO GRAB AND OPERATE THOSE DIVING PLANES WHEN SURFACED! - but they donīt listen to me. They also refuse to operate the automatic control-buttons, instead they stick to the old-fashioned emergency-hand wheels. Same goes for the sonar man who pretends to listen to whatever on surface, well, he probably just listens to his Ipod. On the other hand, my crew is really great at keeping or changing course although no-one is ever in charge of the rudder - not bad.:hmm: Day 4: Contact! After some boring days we eventually get a radio message. Convoy spotted, big time! Start plotting. Approaching and trying to intercept the convoyīs route. Hour after hour we hunt the enemy, everyone is excited except the navigator, who leans coolly over the plotting tabel, studying the map for ages as if there was any thing iinteresting to see. (Much later I found out that he uses the map to hide his "magazines"). Day 5: Attacking the convoy! So now it seems we are getting nearer, and yes, after two days we see smoke on the horizon! Another two hours brings us close to the big ships. Iīve decided to attack at periscope depth. Thereīs this huge tanker at 90 degree, close, closer..., - this is so exciting, I cannot miss this tanker, everything is perfect and BANG- darkness surrounds me for a second - what has happened? Wait, the tanker is GONE! My periscope went black! But wait - whatīs that? A sign appears in front of my eyes saying something about a window which has a problem. The sign also recommends closing the window to solve the problem. Confused, I close the problem-window and another sign appears out of the blue, saying something about sending a report to some secret society referred to as "Microsoft". Probably an enemy underground movement spying on us. If I tell Dönitz heīll think I was totally drunk! So I tell my crew everything is fine and that it was all just a drill. They donīt believe me, but they keep quiet about it...:oops: Day 6: Another try! A dark night. Weīre close, very close to the enemy convoy. They havenīt seen us yet. My boat waits in silence, surfaced but deck awash - literally keeping a low profile. A deadly, stealthy attack is about to be done, me and my crew have been plotting and schemeing, shadowing the convoy for hours now. The atmosphere is tense. Finally the moment is right, solution is ready, tubes are open, I order FLANK AHEAD, LETīS GO AND GETīEM!!! "HURRAY!!!" any crew would say! :rock: Well, my crew wouldnīt. :roll: Bernardīs brother enters the bridge, looks at me kind of tired and says "Not enough crew in the Diesel compartment, Sir" I freak out. "What dīya mean, not enough crew? The compartment is so cramped with people I can almost see their legs sticking out of the exhaust pipes!" "Yeah," Bernardīs brother mutters, "you see, there IS crew in the Diesel compartment, but, you know, they are so TIRED. They all just donīt really FEEL like starting the diesel and stuff. I mean, you know, itīs been a hard day, and now itīs almost 1 oīclock in the night and people are supposed to SLEEP." I take a deep breath. Bernardīs brother keeps on babbling about the Union now and what with night shift regulations and so on. :damn: I give in. Down the ladder, into the engine room, I bring them all to bed, personnally, a lullaby on my lips. Look for untired crew. In order to check their tireness, I have to point and touch everyone. If their faces turn very dark or their head emblems morph into something that fairly reminds one of an exclamation mark, I know they are too tired to operate the diesel. After pointing and clicking at all 50 crew members Iīve finally found one or two guys who are not as tired as the rest. The moment I hear the sweet sound of two powerful MAN-diesels warming-up, I realize that the convoy is long gone. Totally frustrated, I head for my little cabin. I pass the sonar-man who even after the 8th patrol hasnīt found out that thereīs nothing to listen to when surfaced, I look back to my watch-officer, who watches those three idiots operating the dive-planes, gazing at the depth-gauges for hours without realizing that we havenīt dived for 24 hours by now...:hmm: ... and as I contemplate my men in their childish stupidity with the convoy fading away on the horizon, I smile and feel: this is home.:yep: Cheers, AS