Call of Duty: Vanguard

Call of Duty: Vanguard isn’t so much a video game as it is a Netflix series disguised as one—except, somehow, worse. Imagine you’re gearing up to play, only to find yourself trapped in an endless slog of self-important cutscenes that redefine cringe, pushing you through a warped WWII “experience” that’s both historically confused and desperately woke. You’re barely playing here; it’s more like you’re watching your character “fight Nazis,” with actual gameplay making an occasional cameo between dialogue-heavy monologues that are deep as a kiddie pool. Just when you think you might actually control something, another cutscene swoops in, filled with melodrama, bland heroics, and awkwardly forced diversity. Vanguard isn’t a shooter—it’s a low-rent streaming miniseries that just happens to steal your hard drive space and your will to live.
== Multiplayer ==
Call of Duty: Vanguard's multiplayer is a dazzling feat of game design—if the goal was to create a clunky, immersion-breaking mess that feels more like a fever dream than a WWII shooter. The game tries to throw players into a chaotic WWII setting, but every design decision seems tailor-made to ensure historical inaccuracy, broken mechanics, and questionable features galore.
First, there’s the laughable weapon customization system that turns legendary WWII firearms into nonsensical monstrosities. Picture an MP 40, a classic German 9mm submachine gun, magically modded to fire Soviet 7.62x25mm rounds. In reality, this would require a full rebuild of the gun, including a new barrel, new magazine, and an entirely different mechanism. But here in Vanguard, it’s as simple as a quick menu tweak, allowing players to pull off these weapon mods as if they’re rummaging through some bizarre, anachronistic armory. The developers seem to have thrown realism out the window, letting players kit out their rifles and SMGs with everything from incendiary rounds to subsonic bullets—turning WWII weapons into an unholy mix of sci-fi tech and fantasy gear.
Then, there’s the cosmetic customization, which feels so forced it’s almost funny. Classic WWII weapons like the M1 Garand or Thompson are drenched in neon skins, fake gold, and ridiculous attachments that make them look more like props from a rejected comic book adaptation than actual firearms. Add to this the bafflingly named “operators” with their distinctively modern-looking uniforms, edgy catchphrases, and backstories that feel more Netflix-original than historically grounded. It’s a WWII game, sure, but set in some alternate timeline where soldiers apparently have access to Bedazzlers and hair dye.
But Vanguard doesn't stop at unrealistic weaponry. Enter the "destruction" mechanic—hyped as a revolutionary addition but executed so poorly it only serves to annoy. In theory, players can blast through walls and obstacles to create new paths or catch enemies off-guard. In reality, however, the destruction is limited to specific, almost laughably scripted spots. One moment, you’re tearing through a flimsy wooden plank like butter; the next, your bullets stop dead against a “non-destructible” cardboard box. It’s a clunky attempt to inject strategy, but it’s so inconsistent that it feels more like a cheap party trick than a meaningful gameplay feature.
And let’s not overlook the gameplay loop itself, which is marred by inconsistent matchmaking and balance issues that make every match a wild roll of the dice. You’ll either find yourself in a lobby full of bots or pitted against a team of seasoned pros with laser-like precision, leaving zero middle ground for enjoyable play. Skill-based matchmaking becomes a punishment rather than a feature, resulting in endless cycles of lopsided matches that turn every “victory” into a grueling grind.
All told, Vanguard's multiplayer isn’t an experience—it’s an obstacle course of illogical design choices and half-baked ideas. Historical immersion is obliterated by sci-fi-level weapon customization, "destruction" mechanics that break only when and where the game allows, and the constant frustration of wildly imbalanced matches. At its core, Vanguard is less a WWII shooter and more of a surreal parody of one. For a real war experience, you’d get more historical accuracy (and enjoyment) from watching a mediocre WWII documentary on loop.
== Singleplayer (overall) ==
Call of Duty: Vanguard's singleplayer isn’t just bad—it’s a full-on cinematic circus masquerading as a game. The “campaign” drags you through a disjointed mess of flashy half-hour cutscenes, sprinkled with brief moments of actual gameplay, just to remind you that yes, this is technically a shooter. Most of your time is spent not playing, but watching the screen as your character “heroically” navigates one dramatic scenario after another in what could only be described as a painfully interactive movie. Every second mission slaps you with a slow, “immersive” scene where your job is to follow someone around, walk slowly down a corridor, or push open a door with all the intensity of a daytime soap opera.
Even when you’re granted a brief taste of action, the game is so heavily scripted you might as well be on autopilot. Think you're in for a challenging WWII firefight? Think again—this is WWII-lite, complete with invisible walls, hand-holding prompts, and set pieces that trigger no matter what you do. Explosions go off around you on cue, enemies practically line up to be taken down, and any semblance of player agency is thrown out the window in favor of “cinematic” moments that feel more like a bloated Netflix series than anything resembling a video game.
In the end, Vanguard’s singleplayer is less about letting you fight in WWII and more about dragging you through a Hollywood wannabe's war fantasy with as little gameplay as possible. If you’re looking for a genuine gaming experience, you’re better off watching a Let’s Play—you’ll get the same experience with the bonus of actually saving yourself hours of button-mashing through endless cutscenes.
=== Intro ===
The opening mission of Call of Duty: Vanguard is like a poorly written fever dream that’s trying too hard to check every box on the agenda list. You play as a non-character with a name as forgettable as your disposable existence, armed with a Sten gun featuring a suppressor that’s so bad you might as well be blowing a kazoo. Apparently, your main goal in Hamburg is to sabotage the Nazis with this marvel of mediocrity, because who needs competent gear when you’ve got clichés?
Soon, you meet your "elite" squad, which feels more like a ragtag bunch from a rejected Avengers spinoff. There’s the Strong Female Character™, a Russian sniper who has more grit than a sandstorm, just in case you forgot that women are badass, too. Then comes Ozziman, the Australian bloke who’s about as subtle as a kangaroo on a trampoline. To top it off, you’ve got Edgy American Dude carrying a Japanese Type 100 submachine gun in Hamburg, because apparently, having a weapon that actually fits the setting was just too boring.
Leading this absurd lineup is a Black commander, because nothing screams "historical accuracy" like rewriting history for the sake of ticking diversity boxes. Forget the fact that the Nazis were obsessed with a little something called racial purity; in this twisted retelling, their main target is now Africans, while the Jewish Holocaust somehow ends up as a that never happened. It’s almost as if the writers were less interested in reality and more focused on pushing corporate agendas and patting themselves on the back for their “progressiveness.”
And then, there are the insta-kill dogs, because nothing amps up the immersion like rabid German shepherds that can instantly send you back to the last checkpoint. These four-legged menaces appear out of thin air to remind you that no matter how many enemies you mow down, one nip from Rex the Überhund can ruin your day faster than a botched quick-time event.
The chaos crescendos in a submarine, where you and the Totally-Not-Avengers™ squad get captured in a scene that’s as predictable as it is anticlimactic. Your character—whose only achievement is existing for as long as they did—will be unceremoniously erased from the game for reasons that are as unclear as the writers' grasp on history. And as you stare at the "Mission Failed" screen, you can’t help but wonder if the real sabotage was your patience all along.
=== Playing as BLACK GOD (Arthur Kingsley or something like that) ===
The Black character’s campaign in Call of Duty: Vanguard is a cursed farce that’s supposed to pay homage to D-Day at Merville, 1944, but ends up feeling like a mockery instead. The mission opens with your character making a grand entrance by skydiving directly into a mud pit because, apparently, using a parachute is beneath them. Maybe that’s the developers’ subtle nod to the character’s skin color blending in with the mud, or perhaps it’s just another entry in the corporate “woke points” competition. Either way, any historian worth their salt is reaching for the nearest Lee-Enfield in a desperate attempt to end their suffering, but they'll be dismayed to find that, in this game, the rifle only has five rounds in the magazine. That’s right—five shots, because clearly, realism was left on the cutting room floor.
The mission's script is tighter than a straightjacket, leading you by the nose through a painfully obvious and inflexible sequence of events. You’re thrown into a "battle" that’s about as tactically sound as a toddler’s tantrum. It starts with an assault on a German bunker, heroically led by a bunch of unstarted Opel Blitz trucks. That’s right, these trucks are just sitting there, engines off, as if someone thought a silent assault meant literally doing nothing. Behind them charges your "elite" squad of 30 or so guys, sprinting towards the enemy positions like they’re late for tea. Apparently, no one bothered to teach them the concept of cover or basic military tactics.
The defenders, of course, are armed with MG 42s, but not just any MG 42s—these ones have magically floating bullets that somehow find their way to your position even if the barrels are pointed at the sky. Oh, and the machine guns are missing muzzle brakes because apparently, getting one of the most famous weapons of the war right was just too hard for the developers. It’s as if someone handed the historical accuracy checklist to a chimpanzee and said, “Good enough.”
The immersion-breaking absurdities don’t stop there. Playing through this mission is like taking on the role of the WWII-era ATF, with insta-kill dogs that spawn out of thin air to ruin your day whenever the game decides you’re having too much fun. If being mauled by a rabid canine in 0.5 seconds wasn’t annoying enough, you’ll also get to use WWII weapons retrofitted with what can only be described as sci-fi attachments. Red-dot sights on a Lee-Enfield? Because why the hell not? The game designers were clearly more concerned with looking cool than making sense.
And then, there are the enemy soldiers armed with the Mauser Karabiner 98, because what WWII shooter would be complete without them? Except in this game, the K98s have bayonets mounted sideways for some baffling reason. It’s almost like the developers found a picture of the rifle on Google and thought, “Let’s spice it up a bit.” Apparently, they never bothered to learn that the bayonet was actually fixed under the barrel, where it belongs.
The whole mission is a cluster of cringe, where the biggest threat isn’t the German soldiers, but the sheer incompetence of the developers. It’s a wonder the player isn’t given an on-screen button prompt to roll their eyes at the ridiculousness, but then again, that might actually break the immersion more than the game already does.
=== Playing Stalingrad as Strong Edgy Female Character ===
The CoD: Vanguard Stalingrad 1942 campaign sets out to portray gritty realism and deliver a strong, feminist-driven narrative. What we actually get is a Hollywoodized fever dream of Soviet history, jamming every diversity checkbox into a plotless theme park ride through a severely distorted World War II. The opening sequence is a half-hour mashup of cinematic fluff and clunky interactions, starting with the Soviet clone army led by Private Lebedev, a transgender soldier wearing full war paint like it's opening night of the Red Army Drag Revue. Every Soviet character looks like they were modeled from the same three assets, each with the same blank, dead-eyed expression — a bizarre American reimagining of Soviet citizens as interchangeable, stoic mannequins.
Enter Polina, our “edgy” main character who’s meant to embody the modern “strong female character” ideal but feels more like an angry teenager who just discovered eyeliner. She’s voiced by Laura Bailey — a talented actress, but let’s just say this role won’t be her magnum opus. Polina is introduced as a Soviet sniper with ninja reflexes, able to parkour across crumbling rooftops while carrying a Mosin-Nagant with, bizarrely, a post-war Springfield M1903 scope slapped onto it. Because apparently, in Vanguard's version of WWII, military-grade optics just teleported across continents and time periods as needed.
And then there's her brother, whose face seems to have been copy-pasted from every generic Soviet soldier model in the game. To make things worse, this same face shows up on various Allied soldiers, like the paratroopers in British soldier Arthur Kingsley’s squad. Arthur Kingsley, by the way, is a British Black soldier who, in Vanguard’s warped universe, not only fights Nazis but also speaks fluent Russian and German, because nothing says “believable WWII narrative” like a linguistically gifted action hero with a miracle backstory.
Historically, it’s a disaster. We’re in 1942 Stalingrad, but someone in the design team decided to throw in the T-34/85 with an S-53 cannon that wouldn’t be developed until 1944. The German Stukas — those famous dive bombers — are tossed into the chaos with parts from multiple models, some fitted with anti-tank cannons, others with landing hooks, as if every Stuka variant had been welded together into a single, absurdly modified super-plane.
Once you take control, the mission turns into Assassin’s Creed: Stalingrad as Polina morphs into a parkour expert. She’s sprinting across rooftops, diving through shattered windows, and effortlessly vaulting over obstacles, making her look less like a Soviet sniper and more like a post-apocalyptic gymnast. Eventually, she gets back to her apartment and grabs her trusty Mosin-Nagant, but rather than a wartime scope, it's inexplicably fitted with an anachronistic Springfield scope, as if weapon design just didn’t matter.
Then comes the combat, and Vanguard doubles down on the absurdity. You stab a German soldier in the shoulder, which realistically should be a minor inconvenience, but instead, he collapses in agony as the script demands he immediately die. Then, you grab his Becker revolving shotgun — a weapon so rare it’s almost mythical, with fewer than 100 ever produced. And yet, in Vanguard, this revolver shotgun is as common as a Kalashnikov in a 1980s action movie. Polina wields it like a sledgehammer, effortlessly blasting holes through walls, despite being maybe 5’3” and 110 pounds.
During the shootouts, Polina gains superpowers in what can only be described as the “immortal zone” — a magical area where she becomes invulnerable to enemy fire. Enemies unload clips into her, but the bullets might as well be BB pellets. Eventually, there’s a sniping sequence, intended to show off her sharpshooting skills. But rather than strategizing, you can complete it just as effectively by chucking Molotovs into the enemy’s path like a kid playing with firecrackers.
What’s meant to be a powerful feminist war narrative becomes a cringeworthy farce. Instead of meaningful representation, we get a parody of empowerment, with Polina running around like a one-woman wrecking crew in an alternate history where realism and logic have long since abandoned ship. It’s as if the developers wanted to make a point about feminism and diversity, but they buried it so deeply in nonsense that the only real message is: “We think history needs a makeover.” And what’s left is a campaign that’s more eye-roll than action, a caricature of WWII that feels like it was written by someone who skimmed a history book and thought, “Close enough.”
=== Midway Theatre (Edgy Yankee) ===
In the CoD: Vanguard Midway campaign, you’re thrust into the cockpit as the ultimate “edgy” American pilot archetype — a lone wolf with a thirst for chaos and a penchant for destruction. Forget tactical maneuvers or strategic bombing runs; this guy is out to singlehandedly rewrite the rulebook on aerial combat, flying his SBD Dauntless like it’s the star of a blockbuster action flick. He’s not just a pilot; he’s a mid-air anarchist, lighting up the sky in a way that feels more inspired by Mad Max than the Battle of Midway.
The mission starts with this reckless ace diving headfirst into waves of Japanese Zeros, with no backup, no fear, and no common sense. His SBD Dauntless — meant to be a dive bomber, mind you — somehow transforms into a nimble, high-speed death machine, ripping through swarms of enemy fighters as if it were an elite dogfighter, with each Zero going down in flames as he smirks and banters his way through the chaos. In Vanguard’s version of Midway, historical constraints are thrown out the window; the Dauntless is a do-it-all warplane, out-maneuvering the Zeros, shrugging off enemy fire, and somehow managing to pull off high-G maneuvers that would likely send the real aircraft spiraling out of control.
The protagonist’s edginess is dialed up to absurd levels. He’s not here to represent the quiet courage or teamwork of actual WWII pilots; he’s here to “stick it to the enemy,” bringing his over-the-top persona into every dogfight. The mission quickly devolves into aerial pandemonium, where tactics are abandoned in favor of reckless stunts. Every dogfight feels like an ego-driven showdown, where the protagonist’s chaotic energy turns each encounter into a personal vendetta against the entire Japanese air force.
This “airborne anarchy” turns Midway into a playground for the lone wolf, where our pilot obliterates wave after wave of enemy planes like an invincible demigod. It’s pure Hollywood fantasy, as explosions fill the sky and the Dauntless racks up kills at a pace that would make any WWII ace blush. The real Midway was a pivotal, gritty battle requiring coordinated effort, limited resources, and a touch of luck, but here, it’s a one-man wrecking spree. The mission leans fully into the pilot’s edgy, rebellious nature, trading authenticity for raw, unhinged spectacle — and by the end, history feels like little more than an afterthought.
=== Bougainville 1943 (Edgy Yankee) ===
The Bougainville 1943 campaign in Call of Duty: Vanguard is an unapologetic spectacle of WWII-inspired chaos that, rather than honoring history, seems intent on reducing it to a kitschy blend of action clichés and dubious heroics. You’re cast as a stereotypically “edgy” American pilot flying the Douglas SBD Dauntless, a rugged dive-bomber known for its reliability and resilience, especially in Pacific naval battles, but hardly the nimble aircraft one would pick for dogfighting. Yet, Vanguard dismisses such trivial details, throwing historical accuracy to the wind within the opening cutscene. Here, our improbable hero in his sluggish, heavily armored Dauntless somehow manages to “out-maneuver” a Japanese Zero—a plane specifically designed for extreme maneuverability and high-speed dogfighting. By some absurd turn of events, your Dauntless leads this Zero into a cliff, making a mockery of Japanese aviation while setting the stage for the campaign’s approach to WWII: spectacle over substance, and spectacle with no regard for plausibility.
Just as this cutscene crushes any hope of realism, anti-aircraft fire conveniently sends you crashing into the jungles of Bougainville. Here, the game abruptly shifts gears into a “drugged” sequence, complete with impaired movement and dream-like filters, as you stumble through thick jungle terrain. The intent, presumably, is to create tension and a sense of disorientation, but in practice, it feels more like an arbitrary gimmick designed to pad out the mission before dropping you into an on-rails stealth section. In this mode, Vanguard’s jungle becomes a minefield of death-by-design, where any break from silent movement results in a spawned-in enemy who immediately executes you from behind. And it’s not just any enemy; you’re taken down by a Japanese soldier armed with an Arisaka rifle, specifically listed as a Type 99 in the game despite being depicted with a spike bayonet that resembles those used on Mosin-Nagant rifles or even Lee-Enfields. Not only does this raise eyebrows among history buffs, but it also hints at the cut-and-paste approach taken in many of Vanguard’s weapon designs.
Assuming you manage to tiptoe past this scripted, unforgiving gauntlet, you stumble into a shack outfitted with a radio whose textures appear to have been borrowed from Minecraft—an odd choice given Vanguard’s otherwise polished graphics. This shack marks the beginning of another silent section through the jungle, where breaking cover or making a sound once again prompts a flurry of enemy spawns and nearly unavoidable death. This stealth mechanic feels punitive rather than challenging, with AI soldiers acting less like wartime troops and more like omniscient phantoms with a sixth sense for any player missteps. The jungle becomes a silent death trap, an unforgiving series of “gotcha” moments that bear no resemblance to actual stealth mechanics or immersive gameplay design.
Eventually, despite all odds, the Japanese capture you, setting up what should be a gritty, tense sequence of wartime captivity. However, realism is once again sacrificed for scripted heroics as a squad of “strong black characters” storms the scene to rescue you in the most heavy-handed manner possible. These soldiers are portrayed as nearly superhuman, each embodying a caricature of wartime bravery and strength, yet lacking any genuine depth. Leading the charge is a flamethrower-wielding juggernaut carrying an anachronistic M2 flamethrower—a model that wouldn’t be introduced until 1944, but one that here, in 1943, is treated like a magical artifact of overwhelming power. This character strides confidently through the battlefield, immune to both bullets and narrative coherence. He’s so untouchable that he can march past lines of Japanese soldiers, unscathed and seemingly unnoticed, leaving you to do the “clearing” while he continues his bulletproof parade.
To clear out these enemies, you’re given the option to activate “Focus Mode,” which slows down time and grants you an instant aimbot lock-on for headshots. This turns your pilot character, already a questionable choice for ground combat, into an unerring headshot machine, effortlessly dispatching waves of enemies with all the challenge and engagement of a lightgun arcade game. The game has effectively abandoned the concept of player skill, reducing combat to a button-press-and-shoot affair that veers far from Vanguard’s supposed gritty realism. Rather than immersing players in the hardships and heroics of WWII, it feels more like a toddler-mode tutorial for a game that forgot it was supposed to be difficult.
The next scripted moment takes you to a Japanese airfield where, in classic Vanguard fashion, a dramatic crawling section beneath barbed wire ensues. Here, the seemingly indestructible flamethrower hero “accidentally” becomes entangled in the wire—a completely implausible scenario that forces you to pause and help him free himself. Immediately after, he’s killed by a distant sniper, scripted to fall heroically and conveniently hand you his flamethrower. With zero training, your pilot character picks up this heavy, intricate weapon and somehow uses it like a seasoned combat engineer. With a single burst of flame, you incinerate the waves of Japanese soldiers thrown at you by the game’s unrelenting spawn triggers. If realism had been on life support before, it’s surely dead now, incinerated in the fiery wake of Vanguard’s gameplay indulgences.
As you continue through this airfield assault, the game’s armory becomes more bizarre. Japanese troops appear equipped with German StG 44 assault rifles—fitted with a red-dot sight, no less—and an MG 42 sporting a 50-round drum magazine. The presence of an StG 44 is already a massive historical oversight, as this weapon was introduced on the European front, but the addition of a red-dot sight and custom magazine only amplifies the anachronistic mishmash that Vanguard seems to revel in. Some Japanese soldiers even carry the Becker Schrotflinte, a rare German civilian shotgun produced in the 1920s, of which fewer than 100 units were ever made. For the developers, it seems, historical specificity is sacrificed to serve a chaotic armory assembled without much thought to setting or period accuracy.
Reinforcements arrive in the form of Sherman tanks, though not just any Shermans. These are a Frankenstein assortment of M4A3, Easy Eight, and Firefly variants, anachronistically blended to create a line of tanks that simply wouldn’t have existed in this configuration or at this time. For a game that goes to such lengths to simulate a gritty, boots-on-the-ground experience, the level of disregard for authentic equipment is astounding. Each historical inaccuracy is less a minor oversight and more a glaring reminder that Vanguard’s version of WWII owes more to Hollywood than to history.
The finale builds as you approach a hangar and discover an Aichi D3A “Val” dive bomber. Miraculously, your character—an American pilot with zero experience in Japanese aircraft—is somehow immediately able to fly it. As if this final twist weren’t implausible enough, you’re then handed an MG 42 that has been inexplicably retrofitted with an MG 15 barrel, a model straight out of Call of Duty: WWII lazily repurposed here without even the courtesy of an updated model. Even more absurdly, the gun’s 60-round drum magazine somehow grants you infinite ammunition, allowing you to mow down wave after wave of Japanese soldiers in a seemingly endless firefight. The MG 42 was notorious for its high rate of fire and complex maintenance needs, but here it becomes a magic weapon that demands no upkeep and offers an inexhaustible supply of bullets, reducing a highly engineered weapon of war to a cheap arcade gimmick.
As the mission concludes, you take off in the Val, improbably executing flawless maneuvers and culminating in a cutscene where you bomb the side of a mountain, which detonates with spectacular effect, sending debris flying as if to underscore the game’s disinterest in historical realism. You then fly triumphantly into the distance, the mission complete, leaving behind a trail of exaggerated destruction and thoroughly exhausted suspension of disbelief.
In the end, the Bougainville 1943 campaign in Vanguard isn’t merely a misrepresentation of WWII; it’s a carnival of excess that revels in a confused blend of action-fantasy and pseudo-historical set-pieces. Rather than immersing players in the true grit of historical warfare, it presents a self-parody of WWII: a sequence of implausible battles, indestructible heroes, and the sort of over-the-top armory that belongs more in a fantasy novel than a serious shooter. In attempting to be “gritty” and “realistic,” Vanguard creates a shallow caricature of WWII that reduces its weapons, its history, and its soldiers to props in an over-scripted, glorified cartoon.
=== Stalingrad 1943 (Edgy Female character) ===
The CoD: Vanguard 1943 Stalingrad campaign turns historical tragedy into a melodramatic mess, raising the “edge” factor to ludicrous heights. You’re playing as Polina, an eye-rolling “edgy” Soviet heroine who fights her way through a caricatured Stalingrad, somehow discovering an AS-44 — a prototype assault rifle that didn’t actually see combat — and wielding it against German soldiers. The main villain is a cartoonishly evil Nazi officer (his name, honestly, doesn’t even matter), whose entire personality seems ripped from a low-budget action movie. In the midst of this “epic” showdown, your character’s brother meets a tragic end, going out in a scripted blaze that’s anything but moving.
Your brother, who was previously wounded by a sniper’s Mauser shot that, for some reason, behaves like a .50 caliber blast, decides to end his own life by detonating a grenade. Before he can make his grand exit, though, you’re forced to carry him through a “shitriffic” shooting gallery, clutching a semi-auto RATT (because history means nothing here, and naming weapons accurately is apparently “for nerds”). Germans equipped with Panzerschrecks — an anti-tank weapon that, for some reason, has been conveniently air-dropped into Stalingrad — bombard you as you trudge forward in this contrived scene. The entire segment feels like a bad theme park ride, as the developers throw historical accuracy to the wind, opting for pure chaos over any semblance of logic.
Just when you think you’ve escaped the absurdity, Vanguard throws in a new enemy class: the “Jägermorders.” These supposed elite SS soldiers — because of course, Vanguard thinks the SS were hanging out in Stalingrad — require an absurd number of bullets to kill, as if they’re some twisted spin on bullet-spongy “Juggernauts.” They smoke bomb their way out of combat every time they’re hit, which makes them feel less like soldiers and more like pranksters gone rogue. Apparently, someone in development thought adding ninja-like elite Germans would boost the action, even if it has nothing to do with reality. So, every encounter with them drags, as they toss smoke grenades and flee, transforming a would-be tense firefight into a tedious cat-and-mouse game.
Then comes the pièce de résistance: a boss fight with the generic villain, which involves hitting him three times in a laughably scripted sequence. Polina, full of canned bravado, spouts off a few cringe-inducing one-liners that feel as artificial as the story itself. She ultimately shoves the “big bad” out a window or off a ledge (predictably), and the game rewards her with a triumphant ending as though she’s singlehandedly turned the tide of the entire Eastern Front.
In the end, the campaign’s “heroic” finale isn’t about honoring the real figures who fought in Stalingrad, like Lyudmila Pavlichenko or Vasily Zaitsev. Instead, Polina is lauded as some savior of the Soviet Union, who supposedly revitalizes the troops and somehow inspires the eventual counterattack. It’s a disrespectful rewriting of history that seems to overlook the actual heroes of Stalingrad in favor of flashy, hollow dramatics. Vanguard reduces the Soviet struggle to a joke, making a complex historical event into a shallow, cringe-worthy action movie that’s unrecognizable to anyone who knows even a little about WWII.
=== OZZIMAN no.1 (Aussie lad) ===
In Call of Duty: Vanguard, the Tobruk 1941 campaign manages to turn a pivotal WWII defense into a spectacle of historical inaccuracy and laughable design choices. Instead of honoring the endurance of Australian troops, Vanguard presents them as hapless amateurs who apparently scrounged their “uniforms” from a secondhand shop. Dressed in a hodgepodge of civilian gear, they look less like hardened soldiers and more like civilians roped into a battle reenactment they never signed up for. These “sappers” are almost comical, wandering around the desert with mismatched clothes, as if unsure of whether they’re soldiers or tourists.
The absurdity doesn’t stop at the soldiers’ appearances; the weapon selection itself reads like an alternative universe WWII wishlist. German forces, for example, are seen using Mauser rifles equipped with sideways-mounted bayonets. Somehow, these weapons look like they were assembled by someone who skimmed a Wikipedia article on WWII weapons and thought, “Why not mount a bayonet crooked?” It’s an engineering disaster and a historian’s nightmare, which doesn’t stop there. In Vanguard’s world, they’ve thrown in the Volksturmgewehr—designed in 1944 for last-ditch militia defense—as a fully automatic front-line weapon in 1941, about three years early. It’s the equivalent of including smartphones in a 1950s setting: ridiculous and impossible.
The anachronisms continue, as the game rolls out the StG 44 (another mid-1940s weapon), equipped with modern red-dot scopes, suppressors, and even tactical grips, because apparently, Vanguard decided that historical realism was optional. It’s almost impressive how the game includes every possible attachment and weapon mod that WWII soldiers would have only dreamed of, making the battlefield feel more like a comic book depiction of war than an actual historical setting.
The vehicles in the game don’t escape the bizarre design choices, either. For instance, instead of the short-barreled Panzer IVs that were actually used in 1941, players face long-barreled versions, complete with unrealistic reload animations and turret movements that belong in a 21st-century action movie. Even the infamous Stuka dive bomber is given the Vanguard treatment: players can take it down with virtually any weapon, and once its engine is hit, it starts an absurd upward climb. Yes, in Vanguard, a critically damaged Stuka decides to ascend into the sky rather than crash, defying gravity, physics, and common sense. Eventually, it explodes over the German camp in an unintentional comedy climax that’s more Saturday morning cartoon than serious WWII campaign.
And then there’s the infamous “Klauser,” Vanguard’s knockoff name for the iconic Luger pistol, as if renaming it somehow elevates its authenticity. The weapons come with modern animations that feel jarringly out of place, as soldiers perform smooth tactical reloads more suited to a special forces team than a WWII grunt. Each weapon reload looks straight out of a 21st-century FPS tutorial, completely out of place in a game claiming to capture the gritty WWII experience.
In essence, Call of Duty: Vanguard’s take on Tobruk isn’t just historically inaccurate; it’s a strange cocktail of modern military tropes and poorly-researched history. The campaign feels less like a tribute to WWII and more like a badly-scripted fanfic where historical accuracy was thrown out the window in favor of flashier weapons and Hollywood-style explosions. Rather than an immersive experience, the game serves up an alternate WWII that’s both laughable and cringeworthy—a fever dream of an era that only vaguely resembles history.
=== OZZIMAN no.2 (Aussie lad) ===
In Call of Duty: Vanguard, the Battle of El Alamein campaign somehow manages to turn a critical WWII battle into a confusing spectacle of historical blunders and anachronistic weaponry. Instead of immersing players in the tense, gritty reality of 1942 North Africa, Vanguard offers a slapdash collection of historically improbable scenarios, where flashy attachments and nonsensical weapon choices reign supreme.
To start, players are handed a version of the Lee-Enfield rifle with a baffling five-round magazine, down from the historically accurate ten. Even more puzzling is the Bren gun, now inexplicably sporting a 100-round magazine. This transformation turns the Bren—a light machine gun that typically had a 30-round capacity—into a near-endless stream of bullets, making it feel more like a mini-gun than a WWII LMG.
The absurdity doesn’t stop there. Each weapon seems to be equipped with every modern attachment imaginable, from red-dot sights to suppressors, completely out of place in the desert battles of WWII. German soldiers are somehow wielding MP 40s with holographic sights and tactical grips, while the legendary StG 44 (which didn’t appear until years after El Alamein) is treated like a sci-fi blaster, outfitted with reflex sights and extended magazines that feel as if they belong in a futuristic shooter rather than a WWII game.
The game also features vehicles that take ridiculous liberties with history. Instead of using the Panzer III and Panzer IV tanks common in the North African campaign, Vanguard throws in souped-up versions with longer barrels, futuristic reload animations, and armor plating straight out of a post-apocalyptic movie. These tanks look less like actual WWII armor and more like props from a dystopian action film.
The campaign culminates in a final “dramatic” defense mission where players are given an automatic grenade launcher, a weapon based on a single-shot British naval grenade launcher. This version, however, operates like a machine gun, unloading grenades at a rapid-fire rate that’s not only physically impossible but also absurdly out of place. The final line of defense also includes a reloading Panzerfaust 60, a disposable German anti-tank weapon bizarrely reimagined as a reloadable cannon. Watching players reload what was historically a single-use weapon mid-battle is one of the most unrealistic spectacles in the campaign.
In the supposed emotional climax, the game tries to deliver a heartfelt moment when a nameless NPC—whose personality and background were never developed—dies during the final defense. Attempting to create a somber scene, the game raises a flag over the NPC’s grave. Yet instead of the Union Jack, the developers somehow chose the British Red Ensign, a flag used by merchant ships. This symbolic mix-up is emblematic of Vanguard’s slapdash approach to WWII history, where even the simplest details are mangled.
The Vanguard take on El Alamein is an alternate history fever dream—a chaotic and laughably inaccurate portrayal where reloadable Panzerfausts, futuristic tank mods, and rapid-fire naval grenade launchers are thrown together with little regard for reality. Rather than delivering an authentic WWII experience, the game serves up a cringeworthy spectacle that has more in common with a low-budget action movie than any real historical event.
=== ZE FOURTH REICH ===
In The Fourth Reich, Call of Duty’s ambitious “inclusivity crusade” reaches its climactic WWII mission, where players take control of a diverse “Vanguard” squad in the heart of Nazi Berlin. The leader? None other than Arthur Kingsley, a British Black soldier who not only commands the group but is also trilingual, mysteriously fluent in languages needed at all the right times. He’s flanked by a tough-as-nails, no-nonsense female sniper with a permanently arched eyebrow, a sarcastic American pilot, and an Australian demolition expert—all written to embody classic archetypes but through the lens of today’s most mainstream diversity push.
This crack squad breaks out of their Nazi prison with such ease you’d think it was a school field trip. Their enemies are terrifying, sure, but mostly because they’re hyper-scripted caricatures who obey only the game’s narrative, conveniently missing every shot or pausing for dramatic effect. The player’s role? Follow the narrow corridors, absorb the scripted Hollywood dialogue, and switch between Vanguard members as the game periodically lets you “control” each character, only to snatch control back at every climactic moment.
The setting is post-apocalyptic Berlin, as Allied C-47s mercilessly bomb the city, and your team makes a beeline for Tempelhof Airport. At first, things look promising: the crumbling ruins, scattered German soldiers in panic, and the terrifying sight of Jägermorders (a laughable “elite SS juggernaut” enemy), who make every encounter a frustrating endurance test. Dressed in thick armor, these Jägermorders carry the brute strength of comic-book supervillains, and just like every other enemy in this game, they’ve been gifted by the developers with the power of instant kills. Getting within melee range? They’ll smack you down with a rifle-butt slap that’s somehow fatal, despite your character’s plot armor. Want to take one down? Prepare to burn through two whole mags of ammo, shooting a hail of bullets at a target that should—logically—be shredded after the first mag.
And speaking of realism, Call of Duty: Vanguard proudly champions its commitment to historical detail. You’ll get to shoot authentic WWII weapons modified with…red-dot sights, tactical grips, and even sleek modern scopes that somehow made their way to the 1940s. Reload animations include full-on tactical reloads, press checks, and mid-clip swaps straight out of a SWAT training manual. Nothing screams “authenticity” like swapping mags on an M1 Garand with a modern tactical flourish, or hip-firing with precision through a tactical red-dot, all while mowing down Nazis who’ve somehow perfected the art of one-hit kills. It’s immersion at its finest, as long as you don’t mind the timeline being just a bit blurry.
Beyond Jägermorders, the game adds other classic WWII “highlights”: attack dogs who’ll instant-kill you on sight, hyper-aggressive soldiers with bayonets who lunge from across the screen, and enough grenades flying your way to make you question the laws of gravity. The mix is topped off with a host of Nazis conveniently clueless about proper squad tactics, filling the battlefield mostly to stand around, get shot, and miss you from two feet away, unless, of course, they’re scripted to hit you.
At last, the player reaches Tempelhof, where the team confronts Hermann Freisinger, the mastermind of Project Phoenix and dreamer of a “Fourth Reich.” He’s pure Call of Duty villain material: slick, arrogant, and rambling about grandiose ideals that fall flat even by supervillain standards. And, as all good villains do, he tries to escape on a private plane. But wait—our “tough female” sniper intercepts him just in time. With a disdainful one-liner, she clocks him with her rifle butt, spills a nearby fuel barrel on him, and gives you, the player, the illusion of choice. Burn him, or spare him—it’s all the same. If you choose not to torch him, your edgy teammate tosses her cigarette anyway, ensuring he meets a fiery end in a not-so-subtle reminder of who the “bad guys” are here.
The mission’s climax isn’t about any real narrative payoff but rather ends with a cutscene, as our squad takes off in a commandeered plane. They’re smiling, flipping through Nazi files filled with references to older Call of Duty games as a nostalgic nod to “better days” in the franchise. The easter eggs feel more like a callback to CoD’s early days than a genuine tribute. Each team member exchanges quips, and the game abruptly ends with the sense that this diverse super-squad has just saved the world from the evil menace of Project Phoenix—ready to take on whatever post-WWII adventure might await.
In the end, The Fourth Reich feels like Call of Duty’s most on-the-nose attempt to reframe history for a modern audience, blending WWII tropes with a cartoonish portrayal of inclusivity and heroism.
== Game design ==
The game design of Call of Duty: Vanguard is, to put it mildly, a chaotic mess that seems to have been stitched together by “teams of thousands”—though you wouldn’t guess anyone spent more than a minute in a design meeting. Here’s a rundown of why Vanguard’s game design feels like a piecemeal cash-grab held together by clichés, recycled animations, and inexplicable historical anachronisms:
# Censorship Chaos: The “Schrodinger's Swastika” Paradox If Vanguard had a motto, it would be, “Consistency is for quitters.” In one scene, the swastikas are meticulously censored out, likely to avoid ruffling too many feathers. But give it two minutes, and voilà! Uncensored swastikas pop up as if the design team collectively forgot or just gave up halfway through. So, which is it? Are they being politically sensitive, or just having a laugh? This mixed approach to symbolism is like a game of historical whack-a-mole—only instead of Nazis, you’re bashing your head against invisible guidelines no one quite agreed on.
# “Recycling” Like a High School Art Project Vanguard’s team took the classic CoD motto of “reuse, recycle, repackage” to a whole new level of shamelessness. We’re not talking about nods to old content; we’re talking wholesale reprints. The same gun animations, sounds, and tactical reloads from Cold War have been plopped into WWII like time travelers that accidentally wound up in 1945 with their high-tech tactical grips and red-dot sights. And it’s not just weapons: even the textures feel like they were copy-pasted, re-used until they lose all meaning, like a tired meme. If Cold War was the mall, Vanguard is the strip-mall knock-off.
# Wannabe Parkour Mechanics – Because WWII Soldiers Were Totally Doing This Who wouldn’t want to see their WWII character gracefully vaulting over rooftops and scaling buildings with all the finesse of an Assassin's Creed character? Only, it’s Call of Duty, so half the time, the game glitches out, and you end up crouching weirdly against a wall or somehow flipping backward onto a tank. The developers must have thought, “Why make players walk like normal soldiers? Let’s give them Assassin’s Creed-lite, because there’s nothing more immersive than clunky, out-of-place parkour in 1940s Europe.” With mechanics like these, Vanguard’s soldiers are less like heroes and more like medieval assassins who tragically stumbled into the wrong franchise.
# NPCs With AI Out of a 2003 Flash Game Vanguard’s enemies are, without exaggeration, some of the most clueless, inept AI creations seen in modern gaming. When they’re not standing around waiting for you to shoot them like actors forgetting their cues, they’re making tactical decisions on par with cartoon villains. They’ll charge at you with bayonets from halfway across the map, or if they’re feeling adventurous, they might throw a grenade in the wrong direction just for laughs. The AI pathfinding is so bad it feels like a deliberate inside joke. While Cold War managed at least a semblance of intelligent enemies, Vanguard’s bots are less Nazi soldiers and more like set pieces, blindly charging into battle like they’re auditioning for a CoD parody.
# Single-Player Characters: The Over-the-Top Avengers Assemble Every Vanguard character is a walking, talking meme of 2020s stereotypes. Leading the squad is a British Black soldier fluent in three languages, all conveniently aligned with whatever mission you’re on. Then there’s the sniper with attitude, tossing around one-liners like a bad stand-up comic. They’re all written with all the subtlety of a neon sign screaming, “Look! Diversity!” rather than genuine character depth. CoD used to have memorable characters; now we’ve got walking action-figure clichés meant to tick boxes instead of evoking any real personality. The end result is cringe-worthy—and makes you long for a squad with some actual depth.
# A Political Agenda So Loud, Even the Guns Are Secondary Vanguard’s storyline is less about WWII and more about a ham-fisted political agenda that feels like it was written by a focus group trying way too hard to sound “current.” Characters drop lines that feel designed for Twitter applause, and every other cutscene feels like it’s winking at you to say, “Get it? We’re inclusive.” In their attempt to make a modern statement, Vanguard’s design team missed the chance to create a meaningful story and instead pumped out a narrative aimed at anyone with a lower-than-room-temperature IQ who just wants loud explosions and hollow statements. Historical nuance? Not here. Just bright, shiny “statements” that are as genuine as a corporate diversity tweet.
# Target Audience: Kids Who Think CoD Started in 2019 Who was this game even made for? The answer, seemingly, is an audience who won’t care about narrative, historical accuracy, or design consistency so long as it has flashy graphics and over-the-top villains. Vanguard panders to kids who don’t know—or don’t care—about WWII and think “historically accurate” means sticking a Nazi armband on a boss enemy. Rather than crafting a WWII game with any real gravitas or originality, they’ve crafted a colorful FPS carnival for an audience more invested in cosmetic unlocks than storytelling.
Call of Duty: Vanguard ultimately feels like a parody of itself, a bizarrely inconsistent hodgepodge of lazy recycling, historical clichés, and modern virtue-signaling that barely holds together as a coherent game. It’s not for history buffs, not for fans of well-designed shooters, and definitely not for anyone expecting a Call of Duty with heart or originality. Instead, it’s for players who just want to watch things go boom—no questions asked, no historical logic required.
== List of people who would buy this crap ==
* The Fanboys (Degeneratus Repetitivus) These die-hard fans buy every single CoD game that comes out, convinced that this one might actually capture the “magic” of the original games. Every year, they dive headfirst into whatever storyline Activision rolls out, while grumbling that “the last one sucked.” But, ever hopeful, they line up again next year, cash in hand, like moths to the flame of repetitive explosions.
* Casual Players (Degeneratus Relaxus) Not everyone’s here for a life-changing narrative or tactical brilliance. For this group, CoD is comfort food. They run, they shoot, and they call it a day. And honestly? They don’t mind if World War II guns have red-dot sights, as long as the explosions are bright and plentiful. They’re here for pure adrenaline, with zero regard for realism.
* Achievement Hunters (Degeneratus Collecticus) These completionists can’t sleep until every trophy is unlocked. Even if Vanguard’s story and mechanics don’t inspire, the “100%” icon does. They’re prepared to trudge through every WWII mission, replay multiplayer matches, and grind till their thumbs go numb—all to add another badge to their collection.
* Multiplayer Fiends (Degeneratus Pwnicus) For them, the plot is a secondary concern; they’re here to crush enemies online. In Vanguard’s multiplayer mayhem, they’ll endure whatever absurdities the game throws at them, from insta-kill dogs to heavily armored Jägermorders, as long as they can unlock all those shiny skins and attachments.
* Modern Politicos (Degeneratus Inclusivus) Whether drawn by the diverse cast or Vanguard’s bold attempt to modernize WWII, this group appreciates the game’s inclusivity-first approach. Who cares if there’s a bit of historical bending? They’re here for the multicultural squad, complete with Arthur Kingsley, the trilingual British hero. The anachronistic choice in representation may feel jarring to some, but it’s all part of the Vanguard “update.”
* Nostalgic Cod Heads (Degeneratus Nostalgicus) These players remember the good old days of Call of Duty and hope that this WWII setting might just recapture the series' roots. World at War? Now that was a game. They buy Vanguard with a mix of skepticism and longing, prepared to relive the glory days—even if it means trudging through modern mechanics and misplaced red-dots along the way.
* The ATF (Action Thirst Force) These players don’t care much about the series’ ups and downs or any narrative depth. They’re all about Action, Thrills, and Firepower—and Call of Duty provides it by the metric ton. For them, it’s simple: load in, unload clips, and leave explosions in their wake. They’ll take down Nazis, zombies, aliens, or whatever else CoD has to offer without asking a single question, as long as it’s loud.
==See also==
 
* Call of Duty 4: Modern Warfare 
* Call of Duty: United Offensive
* Starfield 
Category:Call of Duty
Category:Things That Suck
Category:Shit