Little Red Riding Wolf
Wolf of the Battlefield: Commando 3 is not your father's Cold War.
Published: June 25, 2008
With no way to communicate with home base and swarms of young, zealous soldiers racing towards me, there's little I can do but grab my firearm and dig in. On this beach there's only two kinds of people: those that live and those that die. I may have made some grave mistakes in my life but I'd like to be among the living when all is said and done. I owe it to the family I left back home.
No one said this mission would be easy when I took the job, but, then again, they never told me that I would be going up against what can only conceivably be described as nations full of people carrying semi-automatics with slow firing ammo. But when you're the Jackal member known as “Wolf of the Battlefield” you should know what you're facing going in.
My indoctrination into Wolf of the Battlefield: Commando 3 began on a war stricken beach in some nondescript Pacific Asian island. With nothing but a handful of grenades (a variable number depending on whether I was Wolf, the clean-cut American leader extraordinaire; Coyote, ammunition specialist with a penchant for explosions; or the enigmatic and beautiful Fox) and my trusty machine gun, what else could I do but make my way through the onslaught of bodies to my destination, an enemy tank causing loads of havoc with a bad attitude and enough artillery to blow up a continent packed in its square frame.
That's all there was to it: shooting, shooting, and more shooting. Yes, I rescued a few prisoners when the occasion presented itself and collected loads of medals and score multiplier tokens (because racking up the points on the online leaderboards means something among us Jackals), but besides rotating my weaponry between my machine gun, a three-way shotgun, a killer flame thrower, and a missile launcher, calling upon the special abilities I learned while in basic that completely decimated the enemy, and upgrading my weapons with a killer P.O.W weapon cache, there wasn't much else for me to do. Heroes don't visit. We save the world.
At least that's what my government would have me believe. As part of the Jackals, the special military team the government uses to clean up whatever mess it's managed to get itself into this time, it's part of my mission to stop an evil dictator who seeks to rule the world through nuclear means. If the setup sounds familiar, it's because our dictator in question is a throwback to a simpler time when all the world needed to worry about was the Cold War. Well, that's my mission AFTER my government abandons me on the shores of that nondescript Pacific Asian island described earlier, where the my fellow Jackals and I are forced to surrender to the forces of evil. For all our good deeds, we're shuttled off to a detention center where we rot for five years. But leave it to our government to stage an elaborate break out, complete with shadowy figure coercing us into helping them again and retrieving our weaponry and armor. I can't complain, though. I got to see some mountains, a few swamps, a czar's fortress, and loads of Egyptian-like artifacts. I may have spent the vast majority of my time dodging bullets in these situations, but when else am I going to get to go on vacation like this on a measly $30,000 a year?
No one said this mission would be easy when I took the job, but, then again, they never told me that I would be going up against what can only conceivably be described as nations full of people carrying semi-automatics with slow firing ammo. But when you're the Jackal member known as “Wolf of the Battlefield” you should know what you're facing going in.
My indoctrination into Wolf of the Battlefield: Commando 3 began on a war stricken beach in some nondescript Pacific Asian island. With nothing but a handful of grenades (a variable number depending on whether I was Wolf, the clean-cut American leader extraordinaire; Coyote, ammunition specialist with a penchant for explosions; or the enigmatic and beautiful Fox) and my trusty machine gun, what else could I do but make my way through the onslaught of bodies to my destination, an enemy tank causing loads of havoc with a bad attitude and enough artillery to blow up a continent packed in its square frame.
That's all there was to it: shooting, shooting, and more shooting. Yes, I rescued a few prisoners when the occasion presented itself and collected loads of medals and score multiplier tokens (because racking up the points on the online leaderboards means something among us Jackals), but besides rotating my weaponry between my machine gun, a three-way shotgun, a killer flame thrower, and a missile launcher, calling upon the special abilities I learned while in basic that completely decimated the enemy, and upgrading my weapons with a killer P.O.W weapon cache, there wasn't much else for me to do. Heroes don't visit. We save the world.
At least that's what my government would have me believe. As part of the Jackals, the special military team the government uses to clean up whatever mess it's managed to get itself into this time, it's part of my mission to stop an evil dictator who seeks to rule the world through nuclear means. If the setup sounds familiar, it's because our dictator in question is a throwback to a simpler time when all the world needed to worry about was the Cold War. Well, that's my mission AFTER my government abandons me on the shores of that nondescript Pacific Asian island described earlier, where the my fellow Jackals and I are forced to surrender to the forces of evil. For all our good deeds, we're shuttled off to a detention center where we rot for five years. But leave it to our government to stage an elaborate break out, complete with shadowy figure coercing us into helping them again and retrieving our weaponry and armor. I can't complain, though. I got to see some mountains, a few swamps, a czar's fortress, and loads of Egyptian-like artifacts. I may have spent the vast majority of my time dodging bullets in these situations, but when else am I going to get to go on vacation like this on a measly $30,000 a year?
