Three perspectives span the Second World War in an anthology structure later entries abandoned: the Soviet defence of Stalingrad, British desert sabotage alongside Popsky’s Private Army, and the American push into Germany through Aachen to Remagen. The multi-army roster (six characters across two missions each) gives the campaign a breadth the modern series never returned to, and period interstitials with broadcast-style narrators lend the transitions genuine atmosphere. The 761st Tank Battalion’s real history, a Blackpanther unit that had to prove something, anchors the tank campaign in actual heroism rather than invention.
The Soviet and British campaigns are genuinely great, and the game is strong until its final American act. Demolitions missions in North Africa, the ten-minute factory defence, and tank-versus-tank combat at Tatsinskaya and Tillet keep the middle stretched with variety; voice acting throughout is better than the era demanded. Sam Rivers’ tank missions stand as a highlight: full armoured warfare, not scripted set-dressing, and a palate cleanser within the franchise that nothing else of its vintage attempted.
The last third is where the anthology falters. Escort missions open the American campaign and drag it down immediately, with so many enemies and next to no healing; the sewer level is the worst in the game almost entirely through visibility, exacerbated by a complete absence of any brightness setting. Aachen-era enemies turn noticeably spongier than their earlier counterparts, a broken objective marker hides one crucial sewer ladder, and King Tiger fights close the act with brutal difficulty spikes. The slide from enjoyment to frustration across this stretch is the campaign’s defining experience.
Health design is the era’s signature friction and it bites hardest here. Medkits rather than regenerating health govern survival, and the contrast between generous early drops and the barren late-game ones is stark: with a sliver of health remaining and nothing dropping, every encounter becomes a slog. Enemy grenade spam without any on-screen indicator compounds the punishment, a genuinely painful omission by modern standards even allowing for period norms.
Era-specific controls complete the retro package: no aim-down-sights on some weapons, separate crouch and stand buttons, and medkit-based survival throughout. None of this is a flaw in isolation; together with the health drought it makes the final act demand a persistence bordering on stubbornness, and emulated save states are the pragmatic solution to the worst stretches. The game is fair by 2004 standards and unfair by any later ones, and knowing which standard to apply matters.
Presentation holds up better than the difficulty suggests. Emulation with an overclocked Emotion Engine runs the campaign cleanly at upscaled resolution, the auto-generated mission intros land with period-appropriate broadcast polish, and the distinct national colour palettes (Stalingrad’s grey, the desert’s amber, Aachen’s snow) give each anthology section its own identity. Don Jordan’s turn as a squad leader is recognisable from other era work, and the voice cast generally punches above what 2004 console shooters typically commissioned.
Overall, two-thirds of a very good early-2000s shooter remains very good indeed: the Soviet and British campaigns, the tank battalion’s real history and the anthology breadth earn the recommendation, while the final American act’s escort missions, health scarcity and unlit sewers are best endured with patience. As an anthology experiment the franchise never repeated, its identity alone justifies the playthrough, and the tank campaign remains a genuinely distinctive detour.
