Medal of Honor: Rising Sun Review

Rise and dull!

Blecchhí¢â‚¬Â¦another boring morning on the boat. Man, I wish I could get some shore

leave or something. Weí¢â‚¬â„¢re out here in paradise and all I get to do is write reports.

But I shouldní¢â‚¬â„¢t complain – I did make it out alive, after all. You want to hear

about it? Fine, I guess I have some time, but it doesní¢â‚¬â„¢t really have a happy ending.

Ií¢â‚¬â„¢ll never forget the day. December 7, 1941. I was just getting out of my

bunk on the California when the explosions began. Before I could even figure

out what was going on, fire was breaking out everywhere. I somehow managed to

stumble topside and what I saw was amazing. The fleet was gone, man, GONE! Japanese

Zeroes were everywhere and the air was black with smoke. Immediately, I grabbed

the nearest turret and began blasting away at the bogeys, desperately trying

to stay alive.

I

imagine that this was the kind of excitement they felt on D-Day

with all those guys rushing up the beach. Ití¢â‚¬â„¢s all classic war, man. The kind

theyí¢â‚¬â„¢ll be making games out of someday.

When the dust finally settled, the sight was terrifying. I had survived the attack on Pearl Harbor, but the worst was still to come. I still had two handfuls of missions to deal with and boy, were they rough. I mean war is hell, but I thought I knew what I was getting into. What I got instead was a tedious romp through the worst-looking jungles and random locations in the Pacific. It wasní¢â‚¬â„¢t all bad, but it definitely could have been better.

The explosions from that initial attack must have scrambled my brains or something,

because aiming and shooting was a chore. Either that or I had too much to drink

the night before. Even though Ií¢â‚¬â„¢ve won a ton of marksmanship awards, I just

couldní¢â‚¬â„¢t seem to get the crosshairs where I wanted them. Shooting guys ten feet

in front of me was oddly difficult and movement in general just felt clunky

no matter how many adjustments I tried to make. At least the gun didní¢â‚¬â„¢t jam.

But even if it did, I probably would have been fine since my enemies were soí¢â‚¬Â¦stupid. Those guys were terrible shots outside of ten feet and never seemed to notice anything as I took out their buddies one by one. I could be louder than a rhino, but they would sometimes just sit and stare in the opposite direction. The only guys to watch out for were the ones that I ran into headfirst.

Ah yes, as I recall, those guys had some weird magic up their sleeves, too.

On many occasions they would seem to appear out of thin air, right before my

very eyes! Was I hallucinating from lack of food? It was almost as if certain

actions called them down out of the sky. For example, I could clear out an area

in front of a turret, but the second I touched the gun, the guys would pop up

out of the ground like worms in the rain. It was like I was suddenly living

in some badly scripted movie!

I also have to wonder what part of the world Uncle Sam dug up my own squad

mates. They could often be seen running in circles and constantly blocking my

line of fire. At least they were resilient; one of the guys was turned into

Swiss cheese by an enemy bayonet and shrugged it off like nothing happened.

Tough guysí¢â‚¬Â¦tough guys.

Even

our equipment seemed to malfunction. My standard issue compass often led me

down the wrong path. Ií¢â‚¬â„¢d have to backtrack through enemy territory like a cow

that got separated from the herd. Man, that was embarrassing.

Whatí¢â‚¬â„¢s that? You want to hear about the exotic places I visited? Well, I suppose

they were interesting. After all, it seems like everyoneí¢â‚¬â„¢s always talking about

the European front and whatnot. There werení¢â‚¬â„¢t any burnt-out towns here, but

I would hardly call it paradise. The forests had a strange look about them and

the trees seemed to form an impenetrable wall all around me, forcing me down

a strict path. Plus, it looked like everything was made out of little squares.

Base camps werení¢â‚¬â„¢t much better. Ití¢â‚¬â„¢s like all of these buildings were really,

really old, relics from a past generation that should have been retired. The

Xbox and Gamecube issue goggles improved things a bit, but not by much.

But while the sights were sore, the sounds have stuck with me to this very day. Big explosions, all kinds of ambient chatterí¢â‚¬Â¦I swear they were even playing a rousing score while we were fighting. Must have hid the cellos in the bushes somewhere.

Ií¢â‚¬â„¢m glad that at least I didní¢â‚¬â„¢t have to run solo missions all the time. The

brass gave me an option to have another soldier tag along to watch my back.

Yeah, we had some good times back then. We even got to run drills against each

other from time to time with Firebase PS2 flying in other troops from all over

with some fancy satellite system.

But in the end, war is still hell. Thereí¢â‚¬â„¢s too much confusion on this battlefield

to keep me from returning. Something about this war is driving guys on both

sides insane. Oh well, time for me to get back to my reports. Besides, the Rising

Sun is getting in my eye.