Back in 1984, a game like Raid Over Moscow had everything a primary school cold warrior could want. It had a doomsday scenario enlivened by a ticking clock. It had villainous Soviets, who were planning to launch three nuclear strikes from silos in Leningrad, Minsk, and Saratov. Best of all, it had a plucky last-ditch plan to save the day, crafted by those eternal underdogs the United States of America, and involving a team of heroic pilots waiting by their space planes in an orbital hangar.
It all seemed so simple! We'd get into those space planes, zip down to Earth, blast through the launch cities, destroy the silos, and finally roll up at the Kremlin to blow the seat of Soviet power into a billion radioactive fragments. Ticker-tape parades! Global peace! A devastating display of Reagan-era clear-thinking and unashamed leadership! This was propaganda so brain-bendingly rich in its explosive appeal that the Finnish government genuinely pondered banning it.
There was only one problem with the glorious US plan. I could never get my space plane out of the hangar.
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