[nodlew]

I bet they found it to be a huge pain in the ass and bitched and moaned about it the whole time they were at sea. Perhaps they dreamed of a day when technology would exist that would expedite the process of ship identification. A bright, shining tomorrow when the mere click of a button would bring the target ship's info before their eyes without the grueling work of poring through heavy, dusty volumes full of many wrong ships and only one right one.

Edit--In fact after further research I have discovered that it is a little known fact that the various ship recognition manuals were in fact the single greatest strain on American morale. I refer you to the memoir of one Dwight "Stop Whistling" Needermeyer. "The American Fleet Boat at Sea: What the hell kinda ship is that? How the American Submarine Force Decimated the Japanese without knowing what we were shooting at." One of many passages related to the deficiencies of the manual system is given below.

"No, of course not. We didn't mind any sort of deprivation. We were at war in a tiny metal cork bobbing around on the Pacific Ocean. We were fully aware of our situation and prepared to make the best of things. It was the, pardon me, damn ship recognition manuals. We spent weeks, sometimes months at sea without seeing anything at all. Then, when, miracle of miracles, a ship came in sight flying a Jap flag we could only feel excitement for a brief moment because then we had to break out the recognition manuals. All of them. Every spare crew member was put in charge of his own manual. They were all over the place, paging through those things like mad. Stumpy Gibson, in fact, did go mad and had to be marooned off of Java. As we sailed away, the sight was pathetic. Stumpy was laughing maniacally pointing at our sub and misidentifying it over and over again. Anyway. Most of the time we got it wrong. We damaged what we identified as a Nippon Maru in the Celebes sea--later intelligence confirmed that we had torpedoed the Hiryu. It's hard to be triumphant and painfully embarrassed at the same time, but I tell ya buddy, we managed it."

So there you have it. Presented for your consideration.

Strange Aanker. Perhaps we are asking the game to do things the Designers lacked the imagination, or foresight, or perhaps just the time and inclination to anticipate. I have become convinced that whoever was in charge of tweaking the boats was doing it late at night while drunk in-between episodes of Gilligan's Island. Jesus. Everything is messed up. Nothing works. Engine Telegraphs are wired to the Rudder and the Compressed Air Gauge responds to the Throttle. I'm surprised I don't have to fire my torpedoes using the Gramaphone.