What remains constant in Armed Assault is the tactical approach it demands. You never start in the thick of things: you’re always the invading force, approaching your target from a huge distance away. The direct approach is never viable. Every situation calls for careful recon, analysis, co-ordination and sometimes lying in a bush until the sun goes down to make use of your night-vision advantage (using the game’s time-acceleration feature, naturally). Or lying in a bush until the sun comes up, to make use of the fact that it’s behind you and will dazzle anyone looking in your direction (an element that affects the AI as much as human opponents). Bush-lurking itself probably doesn’t sound terribly appealing, but it’s really about the degree of planning and lateral thinking that ArmA’s huge, brutal world demands of you.

That world isn’t always attractive. There are scenes where the huge visibility and procedural foliage come together beautifully, but much of the time you’re just an awkwardly animated soldier in a drab field. It’s funny how you stop noticing this when you’re seeing that field as a combat space, wondering if the crest of that hill is sharp enough to safely peer over at the enemy base beyond.

Like any simulator, it’s not about providing a cinematic experience, it’s about making you feel like a real soldier, think like a real soldier, and have all the options and problems a real soldier has. That’s not pretty, but it’s an incredible experience.