RAMBO III by Richard Karsmakers
It had been a rainy afternoon, and the air was smelling clean
and pure. The street was wet. The sun was weakly shining through
thin clouds, and the birds seemed to rejoice life now it was dry
A lonely man dressed in a U.S. army jacket walked slowly along
the road, sticking up his thumb every time a car passed.
But none of them stopped.
A town was looming up in the distance. Finally, he would be able
to eat and drink something after having wandered through dense
forests for over two days. He welcomed the sheer thought of once
again being in the civilised world - although he hadn't
particularly liked the civilised world in recent years.
He sighed deeply, and readjusted his rucksack. He looked at the
Police car that came nearer and passed him in the opposite
The car turned around and came back to him again.
"Good afternoon," a police offer said after having wound down
the window, "can I perhaps be of any assistance to you?"
The man in the U.S. army jacket stood still for a moment and
looked at the officer with raised eyebrows.
"Can I perhaps be of any assistance?" the man repeated.
The wanderer shook his head.
"Where are you going?" the Police officer inquired.
The wanderer seemed in deep thought for a moment, then said:
His voice sounded worn, and had something threatening yet
"Get in the car," the Police man proposed, "I'll take you to the
north town exit."
The man in the U.S. army jacket got in, uttering nothing but a
muffled grunt of approval.
"This is quite a quiet little town, really," the officer said
after the had driven for a couple of moments, "there's nothing
going on that you will like."
The wanderer looked at the Police officer and once again raised
"It's actually quite a dull town. But the problem is that we
don't mind it being dull and quiet. And I am paid to KEEP it that
way. Do you understand?"
The wanderer didn't say anything or even nod. They both sat
silent until the officer halted the car, about a mile north of
"Here it is," the officer said, adding "You're welcome" when he
noticed that the man in the green U.S. army jacket didn't say
The wanderer got out; the Police car turned around and went back
The Police officer was pretty pleased with himself. Another
potential threat to rest and peace in his community was got rid
of. Until he looked in his rear view mirror.
The bum was walking towards town again.
He turned his car around rapidly and stopped before the man. He
again wound down the window.
"What do you think you're doing?" he said to the man. Some
irritation could be heard in his voice now. "I thought you were
going north. Didn't I tell you that our town is nothing for you?"
The wanderer looked blankly at the officer, obviously not
thinking for one moment to heed the public servant's remarks.
He walked on.
"Well I'll be..." the Police officer said, put his car in
reverse and stopped again in front of the man wearing the
tattered old green jacket.
"Didn't I tell you to turn around, and to avoid this town?"
When the wanderer moved to walk on, the Police officer got out
of the car, obviously quite excited.
"Please put your hands on the car and spread your legs, mister.
Now, please." He helped the wanderer assuming the required
position and searched him.
"Ah!" he said triumphantly when he found an enormous knife on
the wanderer's belt.
"You're under arrest for carrying a concealed weapon! You have
the right to remain silent. If you give up the right to remain
silent, everything you say can and will be used against you in
the court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you don't
have an attorney we will appoint one for you." While saying this,
he clicked handcuffs on the other man's wrists. He pushed him in
the car, got in himself and drove to the Police station.
"We don't like people like you around our town," the Police
officer said gravely, "especially not when they're carrying huge
knives. What do you use it for?"
"Hunting." the wanderer replied.
"Ha! What do you hunt then? Elephants?" the Police officer
obviously thought this to be a pretty funny remark and laughed.
"Why do you pick on me? I didn't do anything." the wanderer
There was a moment of silence.
"What did you say?" the officer asked.
"Why you pick on me. I haven't done anything to you."
"We don't like your type of guy around here." He pulled over the
car at the Police station, and got out. He got the man in the
U.S. army jacket out of the car, too, and guided him inside.
The wanderer was put down for questioning at a desk.
"Here's another wanderer, Mitch," the first Police officer said,
"he carried a concealed weapon and resisted arrest."
He put the enormous knife on the table.
"Says he uses it for hunting." the first Police officer said
when he left.
"Please state your full name, mister," the second officer said.
He sat behind his typewriter, ready to type it down.
The wanderer didn't say anything. Just looked around him
"Look," the officer said, "we've got methods for guys like you.
If you don't tell us all we want to know, we'll get it out of you
anyway. The hard way." He showed his teeth, and beat his
truncheon menacingly on his other hand.
"You'd better believe him," a younger Police officer with light
red hair who happened to overhear the conversation said, "he can
beat it out of you all right!"
The wanderer now looked around him a bit more uncomfortably.
"Your name please!" the officer repeated.
Still, the man in the green army jacket didn't even utter as
much as a disapproving grunt.
The Police officer raised from his seat and went to stand behind
the man that was now looking most uncomfortably around him. He
seemed to shiver for a moment, as if he was thinking back of
tortures performed on him years ago.
"Well, let's see if our friend here wants to say something now,"
the officer said while suddenly holding the truncheon to the
wanderer's throat, pulling hard.
The wanderer tried to pull it off but didn't succeed. He grunted
more loudly now.
"Ah!" the officer said when he saw an army ID plate hanging
around the suspect's neck. He tried to grab it, but then the
wanderer suddenly took the officer's hand and held it tight.
"You do that..." whispered the officer, "...and you'll see your
brains splattered all over the desk." He held a gun to the
The man in the green U.S. army jacket released his grip. The
Police officer tore off the army ID.
"Warchild, Cronos J.," he read aloud, "Hmmm...."
He turned around to the desk where the younger officer with the
red hair sat and said: "Can you check out Warchild, Chronos J.?"
The younger officer nodded and typed in something on his
The first officer came back again and said that the wanderer
would need a bath before he would be put in a cell.
"You're filthy, Cronos J.," the second officer said, "you hear
what the boss said. You need a bath. Well, let's give you a
bath!" A sadistic smile could be seen on his face.
Warchild was brought downstairs for a bath by Mitch and the
younger officer with the light red hair. Bath? A cleanup anyway,
for all that he saw down there was a hose.
"Take off your clothes," the officer commanded, pointing to a
place where the clothes could be put with his truncheon. When
Warchild didn't start to do anything even remotely looking like
taking off his clothes, a threatening movement with the clubbing
device made him do so anyway. "Crickey!" the young officer
sighed when he saw huge scars on Warchild's body, "what has he
been through?!" Mitch didn't seem to be impressed much. "We must
give him a bath," he only said, "well, give him a bath!" The
younger officer took the hose and turned it on. A hard spout of
water came from it and landed on Warchild's body. "Be sure to
get him behind the ears!" Mitch yelled, laughing. Some minutes
later, Warchild was thought to be clean enough. Now, he only
still needed to be shaved.
The younger officer took a razor-blade from a cupboard, as well
as some foam. Warchild got a blank look in his eyes as he saw the
man come nearer with the blade. Flashes of old memories battered
through his brain; memories of ancient tortures, exploding ships,
and pain. A lot of pain.
"Keep quiet, Cronos J.," said the younger officer, "I wouldn't
want to slit your throat with this!"
"Just do it!" Mitch grumbled while holding Cronos tight to his
seat, "he's tough enough. Shave him. Dry!"
The blank look in Cronos' eyes disappeared and was replaced by a
small flame - a flame of fear mixed with rage. He saw the blade
coming nearer to his face...
Mitch saw the rage in Cronos' eyes, but saw it too late...
Mitch woke up, bathing in sweat and turning on the light. Next
to him, his wife woke up too.
"Mitch, darling, what happened?" she asked with concern in her
Mitch panted and couldn't answer for a while.
"I think I had a nightmare, sugar, but it's nothing. Go to sleep
He turned out the light.
A couple of minutes later, they were fast asleep again. This
time, Mitch dreamed of promotion, women and money.
Behind the bedroom door, a burglar sighed very deep. For a
moment, he had thought he was discovered.
It was a broad and tall man with a grim face, wearing a U.S.
Back on the Commodore 64, there was a game called "Commando".
This was a vertically scrolling game in which you were a soldier
that had to fight his way through several levels of enemies,
traps, landmines and moving armour in a most varying landscape.
"Commando", launched by the popular company Elite, was to be the
start of a whole series of "Commando"-clones. One of them also
was the game "Rambo" on the '64, a game that excelled because of
its SIMPLY MINDSTORMINGLY BRILLIANTLY SUPERB music, smooth
scrolling, nice gameplay and good graphics. "Rambo" set standards
on the '64, and when I heard that Ocean was going to launch
"Rambo III" (the sequel to the sequel) on our good old ST I was
kinda hoping that this would finally be a good "Commando"-clone
for our machine. Earlier games, like "TNT" and "Ikari Warriors",
hadn't quit succeeded in this aim, and there was plenty of hope
left in me that "Rambo III" would.
Alas, it didn't.
Though I really like the different graphics, the first of the
three levels looks just like "Into the Eagles Nest" or "Joe
Blade". You have to walk around stabbing enemies, and
occasionally blowing them up by using an explosive arrow. Hardly
original and hardly thrilling either. There is really little
action in this first level.
I understood that there's supposed to be more action at the
second and third levels, but I am afraid I couldn't bring myself
to get through the first one. The action in these last two levels
is supposed to include you driving around in a tank, being chased
by a helicopter and more stuff like that.
"Rambo III" is yet another game that will have to be sold on the
name of the film (just like "Spitting Image" will have to be sold
on the name of the popular TV series). It offers hardly anything
original, and I prefer the 8-bit shoot-'em-up games of this kind
above this one. The good graphics and the nice music really don't
enhance this game into anything above average. "Rambo III" is, to
be frank, quite boring.
Name: Rambo III
Value for money: 6.5
Overall rating: 7
Hardware: Color only
For info about "Rambo III", you should contact:
6 Central Street
Manchester M2 5NS
Tel. 061 8326633
The text of the articles is identical to the originals like they appeared in old ST NEWS issues. Please take into consideration that the author(s) was (were) a lot younger and less responsible back then. So bad jokes, bad English, youthful arrogance, insults, bravura, over-crediting and tastelessness should be taken with at least a grain of salt. Any contact and/or payment information, as well as deadlines/release dates of any kind should be regarded as outdated. Due to the fact that these pages are not actually contained in an Atari executable here, references to scroll texts, featured demo screens and hidden articles may also be irrelevant.