AkumaSD

Ouch. You have it all wrong... 
 
This ^^^^ is big - huge in fact. Not only do customers not know what they want half the time they cook up goofy ideas on how to implement it.

I get it. Being outside of the black box can be frustrating but you *are* outside the black box and you really don't know what is inside. I'm not calming to be some special insider but I have had a glimpse inside the box and the cat is alive

To claim any process is perfect would be silly so I'm not claiming that but your conclusions are just off the mark, way off the mark. I cannot say anything about BFC but where I work in my day job we do not release new stuff to all customers all the time either. Sure we have select customer that are interested in some new thing they get to be involved for a while - it really helps. In general giving all our customers early access would just create management problems, expectation problems and problems on top of problems. Does that mean we are working in a water fall way - hell no. We have people who monitor customer discussions, support calls etc and look for opportunities to make improvements constantly. We include the odd customer in the design and give a few early access to stuff. To the vast majority of our customers we are a black box that releases a new development environment and tools every now and then. They have no idea what is coming next or how we operate. For them to conclude we are executing poorly and making a mess would be wrong - just wrong.

Hopefully I'm not in violation of my NDA - not the one with BFC but my day job

Honestly I think that model would work terribly for this product.  BF would go under trying to implement stuff that is just not feasible resource wise.  Why can't we just be happy that we have something, stop freaking out if it takes a few weeks longer to develop and stop trying to change a working business model.
 
If it ain't broke, don't fix it.

I'm older and supposedly wiser now vs. the pre-CMBO days (yes, I have been here this long), but I am still fighting the urge to complain only semi-successfully in terms of how this product development cycle drags on and expectations continue to be somewhat not managed well.
 
I'm sure a lot of folks here on these boards work in software engineering or project management -- what is frustrating to some of us is that while some of the most exciting players in the game industry have switched to a scrum system (e.g. Early Access games on Steam) where they develop features as users request them, Battlefront still seems stuck in an older development model, waterfall.  This is ironic considering how Battlefront was among the leaders in revolutionizing the marketplace with CMBO disintermediating the brick and mortar stores that kept the games we wanted from us.
 
Scrum is pretty great in a lot of applications, and I like it in game development, because it lets folks get buy-in early and vote, as the customers actually excited about and buying the game, in terms of features they want, how things are working, etc.
 
Battlefront still seems to be stuck in the waterfall model, where they build the game they think we want, spend a lot of time doing it, and then launch it and patch as needed.  Admittedly in most cases this seems to have worked well (the CMSF issues being one where it didn't go as well initially), but I can't help but feel like at this point, given how niche this gaming product is and how enthused we all are about testing/playing it, that maybe it is time to switch to scrum development (early access) and let us help them build the best game.  There's a certain amount of hubris in thinking your team alone knows what is good for us, as paying customers.  Yes, it is they who are building it, and true enough, no serious competition has emerged, but it won't always be like this.  My bet is that if a company finally does beat Battlefront in terms of servicing this particular, specific niche, it is going to be a company that gives what they won't -- early access and buy-in.

Hi Chad,

I do have a combined version of my CMSF mod and more recent WWII title mod that I have been using. I'm not 100% happy with some of the overlaps, but I will probably release it as a beta when the game launches.

Cheers for pointing that out much appreciated.

John has a long mustache.

What's the frequency, Kenneth?

I conqur.

"Hey, hey, hey,
Smoke weed everyday."

You know, you guys with your agitated questions sometimes put me in mind of someone demanding of his parents that they tell him in excruciating detail how he was conceived, every move, every word, every drop of sweat. How did it feel? Was it the greatest moment of their lives?
 

 
Michael

never preorder again Jan 15 came and gone,CMBS comes out I be at work for 2 weeks.

I really dig the foliage in the second shot. Beans maybe? Foliage graphics have really improved in the last couple of years.
 
Michael

https://twitter.com/wargamerchris/status/557695656354381825
Check out the Twitter feed. Waiting almost over!

Hey (normal)dude, Chris said 'picts' so I guess this isn't breaking any NDA. 
This newfangled website. I suppose you'll have to click to enlarge.

2km for javelins

"One more time, Herr Hauptmann! Maybe it is just sleeping."
 
horse

Huh. It was actually a legitimate site! Now I can call my wife back in the room.
 
Thanks.

SSG Venar wasn’t exactly sure what was going on, but he knew it wasn’t good.  The Ukrainian infantry up the slope from him seemed to be having a bad time of it, and the shrapnel from the airburst they continued to receive rattled the trees above his head.  He turned to his teammate.
“We need to get the hell out of here.  Lets go.  I’ll call the LT as we move.”
 The two scouts began slithering back down the hill towards the gully they had infiltrated along.  As they moved, Venar keyed his mike and spoke into his headset.
“Fernandez, you there?  I don’t see you.  Where did you go?”
His driver responded almost immediately, gasping loudly,
“Outlaw 13, this is 13 Delta!  We had to pull back.  We got hit – no idea where it came from, we were just sitting there and BAM!  The right fender is all blown to ****!  I think the run flat is still okay, but I don’t know if it hurt the engine, or…”
“Delta, are you in cover?”
“Roger, I backed further up the gully.  I’m pretty sure no one can see us from here.  Michaels is checking the right side.”
“Okay, hang tight.  We’re gonna try and get back to you.  Too hot up here.  Switching higher, so just hang on.  13 out.”  Venar switched his radio over by feel, and immediately keyed on the platoon net.
“One Six, this is One Tree, over.” 
“This is One Six, send it.”
“One Tree, it is way hot here.  Green boys on the hill are getting their ass handed to them by our friends in red.  Could not stay.  Displacing back.  My Delta says our truck took a hit.  Seems to still run, but will have to assess when I get back.”
“Roger, bound back and stay under cover.  Let me know when you are remounted.”
“Wilco, out.”  The two scouts began working their way down into the ravine. The veteran NCO turned to his teammate.
“Get that AT-4 ready.  I don’t like those engine noises, and that green BMP over there is backing up.” 
 

 

 
On the south side of the hill, SGT Cox continued his crawl, cursing all the way.  He could not believe that his team had not worn their anti-thermal Ghillie suits.  He would never be sure, but he felt those might have hidden them from view.  His crawl was slow and deliberate, as he had been taught, and as he had done numerous times in training and in Afghanistan.  He gradually worked his way back towards his torn teammates, focused on at least recovering their dog tags, and double checking to ensure they were both actually dead.  Unfortunately, his premonition on vulnerability to thermal sights was well founded.  A Russian tank gunner on the south side of the wheat field, equipped with solid second-generation thermal imaging sights, courtesy of the French company Thales, caught a hint of movement from within the treeline.  The commander told his gunner to fire if he thought he saw troops, and a 125mm high explosive fragmentation round screamed across the intervening kilometer in less than a second.  Though it missed him by over 20 meters, the shell exploded at a height of nearly 5 meters off the ground, blasting steel shards at lethal velocity in all directions.  SGT Cox felt his body struck by half a dozen splinters.  Three drove into his body armor and stopped, bruising him, but doing little harm.  Two tore into his right arm and shoulder, piercing his muscle but doing recoverable damage.  The last was a strip that failed to fully fragment, nearly 20 cm long and razor sharp, peeled from the length of the bursting shell, still flying at nearly 600m per second when it struck him in the left leg just below the knee.  Dazed but still conscious, SGT Cox clamped his left hand down on his gushing leg while his right groped for his Combat Application Tourniquet, conveniently rigged, per training, for single handed application. 
 

 
As the Russian forces decimated KPT Antonyuk’s company, the first two BMP-2s to die had been 1st Platoon vehicles.  Now the sole surviving vehicle hunkered down in the gully and watched fate bearing down on him.  The commander could not quite spot the enemy vehicles, but he could see their antennas moving towards him as he peered over the lip of the gully embankment that shielded his track.  He looked behind him, and was gratified to see his squad of infantrymen moving up into the trees to his rear.  The LT was dismounted and ordered to keep his men in and around the village of Starov.  Obviously he had decided to interpret the village borders somewhat loosely.  Perhaps they could still manage to hit a few of the Russian dogs as they came hunting for him.
 

 

On the north side of the hill, the remnants of 3rd Platoon were still being ground down by the advancing Russian BMP-3s and infantry.  The Platoon leader came staggering back through the forest and collapsed by a tree, falling next to the last two surviving dismounted infantrymen from his small command, both bleeding from multiple shrapnel wounds to their faces and upper torsos. 
“Sir, are you okay?”  one asked.  The Lieutenant’s haggard face told the story as he just stared at the man in obvious shock.  In that instant, another burst of lethal 30mm cannon fire struck, directed by the thermal sights on an unseen enemy vehicle, and the officer fell forward on his face and was still.  The two infantrymen cried out in panic, then both began crawling away from the source of the fire, one whimpering in fear and the other snarling in impotent rage.
 

 
Note:  BMP in background is destroyed Ukrainian 3d Platoon vehicle.  
 
 
In Krichek, KPT Kovtun knew that the Russians were up to something.  The artillery  continued to hammer down, but there was simply not enough fire or probing coming from the far side of the river, especially given the destruction of one of an enemy BMP over there by his ATGM team several minutes ago.  Someone or something should have been hunting, searching, trying to pin down the missile team or flush out its comrades.  He called the BMP2 section which had moved up and taken position along the row of houses on the west, facing the river. 
“Borsuk 11, have you seen anything?  Any activity from the far side?”
“Nothing Viktor, hang on, I’ll move up and take a quick look.”
“Borsuk 11, this is Vovk, Hang on 11, don’t do anything stupid.”
“Trust me Viktor – we are good on this.”
An instant later a Kovtun heard the unmistakable hammering of outgoing 30mm fire, over the shriek of another incoming artillery shell.  As his ears were still ringing from the tremendous detonation, he gradually heard the voice calling again on his radio.
“Vovk, this is Borsuk 21…  Vovk this is Borsuk 21…”  with a heavy heart, already knowing Kovtun took a deep breath and replied.
“Go ahead 21.” 
“11 is destroyed.  We never saw what did it.  His track is burning.  No one got out.” 
“21 this is Vovk, do me a favor and don’t DIE in the next five minutes.  Keep scanning but keep YOUR heads down.  We need your track, your cannon, and your missiles!  Stay under cover and respect the enemy’s abilities.  Vovk out.”  He passed the handset back to his RTO, making a deliberate effort not to throw it against the wall, and carefully peeling his white-clenched fingers from the black plastic.  An instant later, he took it back and spoke again.
“Brytva 22, this is Vovk.  Move to checkpoint 2 and observe.”
“This is Brytva 22, understood.  Moving.  I have permission to shoot?”
Podpulkovnyk Tymoshenko stepped into the room.
“You are committing the Tunguska?”
“Brytva 22, destroy anything you see.  Out”  Kovtun gave his Air Defense Commander a hard look. 
“Yes Sir.  It is needed.  We have lost too many combat vehicles, and now 11 has stupidly gotten himself and his crew obliterated.  I need a check on the south, and it must be fast, and lethal if anything is there.  Brytva 21 on the other side has done quite well, although he said he saw nothing from his new position.”
“Absolutely.  Good, I approve.  I trust you Viktor.  Keep the fight going.  Levchenko will get here with the Americans.” 
 
http://youtu.be/cKvN6JINyaw
 
Outside, Major Harris drew the same conclusion from both the sounds of cooking off ammo from the recently destroyed BMP up the street, as well as the radio traffic which he and Beach were monitoring.  He too drew out his handset:
“Guiness, this is five, over.”  As a small team, the SFAT had adopted informal call signs.  SPC O’Brian was well known for his heritage, and his favorite beverage.
“Five this is Guiness.”
“Need you to get over to TRP 2 like we discussed.  Seen anything? Figure you can make it?”
“Roger.  We can make it.  The green boyos over here saw a couple dismounts earlier, but they laid into them with their AGS and we haven’t seen any movement since.  I think our move is still masked.  Same mission?”
“Roger, just like we rehearsed, over.”
“Guiness moving.  We’ll be back in a bit with notches on our CLU.  Out.”
One hundred meters away, the SPC O’Brian picked up the Javelin launcher, tapped PVT Metcalf on the shoulder, and headed quickly down towards the river bridge, carefully skirting the anti-tank mines laid on either side of the road.
 

 
At the Ukepor Power Plant, LT Lysenko grinned as he spoke into his mike. 
“Yes, that is in there.  Fire for effect.”
The infantry in the field had dropped from view, discouraged by a few bursts from his squad in the entry building, and the mortar spotting rounds had bracketed the position where he had last seen the Russian truck and troops.  He hoped the mortar boys would fire fast so he could shift them closer into the field.  He doubted his few men could hold off a platoon of determined Russians. 
 
Starshiy Kostenko knew he was a dead man.  The 2nd Platoon private was on the ground, crawling past the body of one of his comrades, trying to follow his section leader back down the hill to the west, away from the murderous fire from inside the trees.  It was like a horrible story to tell little children.  From dark shadows beyond sight inside the trees, the forest had suddenly belched fire and flame, and all around him men had fallen.  His own thighs and cheek burned with shrapnel, and he felt the warm sticky wetness of his own blood on his pant legs as he crawled.  Suddenly, right behind him, he heard a crashing roaring clatter of sound.  He turned his head and saw the Russian beast, a BMP-3, a mere stones throw behind him.  He swung his rocket launcher around, and thought to himself how sad his mother would be…
 

nice post

“Sweet Jesus, we have got to get there.”  LTC Falkner said to no one in particular as he stared at the Netwarrior feed.  SGT Lerner had uploaded a disposition report that showed two Russian MRCs smashing to dust the Ukrainian mech company that TF 3-69 was supposed to support. 
“Outlaw 16, this is Power 6”
He paused, hoping to hear something from the radio.
“Outlaw 16, this is Power 6, over!” 
“Power 6, this is Power 3.  Sir, we’ll keep trying to raise him.  All the messages I’ve sent in BFT show undelivered.  The jamming up there must be worse than here.”  MAJ Abrams replied.  
“Roger, allright, lets keep rolling.  We need to get there in time to make a difference.”
 

 

 

PdPK Borys Levchenko though had little to celebrate.  He saw the BMP-3 to his front detonate, but any joy was shortlived.  Behind him, one of the 3rd Company BMP-2s had spotted a BMP-3.  The vehicle, and in fact its entire company, had unmasked from the trees near Provinska Dvor and moved forward on the low hill which dominated the highway, taking 3rd Company under fire from a third direction.  The BMP was vicious looking, its long powerful 100mm cannon with its fast-firing high velocity 30mm counterpart strapped alongside, questing from side to side in search of prey. The Ukrainian track fired, sending another AT-5 Konkurs missile speeding towards its Russian target.  As the missile approached, the sensors on the low slung Russian vehicle detected it, tracking it in three dimensions, evaluating its velocity and size, and feeding this data to a sophisticated fire control system. The Arena Active Protective System evaluated the threat selected one of the countermeasure cassettes spread around the turret, and launched it.  As the radar tracked the incoming target, it also tracked the countermeasure cartridge, and when both had reached the proper points in space, the Arena sent the detonation command to the flying cassette.  The cassette had popped up and out from the vehicle and was oriented directly over the incoming missiles flight path.  When it detonated, it sprayed fragments almost straight downward, like a somewhat undersized claymore mine.  The cloud of fragments struck the Konkurs, and smashed through both the warhead and the motor, detonating both in a flash of flame and dust.  Though the warhead functioned and a piercing plasma jet of super heated high pressure metallic gas lanced from it, it was still too far from the fighting vehicle to do any harm. 
 

 
As the BMP commander was screaming at his gunner to reload the missile, the young man yelled back that he could fire his 30mm cannon.  Both men in their fear fought for control of the turret, as precious seconds ticked away.  No burst of high velocity cannon fire followed the missile to spike the Russian BMP, and it rolled forward, continuing its advance.  As the two crewmembers argued, a scant 100m to their rear one of their surviving comrade vehicles experienced the other aspect of the BMP-3’s sinister nature.  This Russian BMP popped up rolling around the southern crest of hill 347.  It paused momentarily, the doors on the back popping open and disgorging heavily armed infantrymen, who immediately sprinted for cover, as the BMP blasted the Ukrainian track with its 100mm cannon at point blank range.  The vehicle immediately belched smoke, the gunner and driver leaping off and sprinting away from the incinerating body of their commander.  Scant moments later, their wingman vehicle was bracketed by automatic grenade launcher fire.  The small rounds were of limited anti-armor utility, and the one hit in the burst did no harm.  Three seconds later instead of more AGS fire, a 125mm sabot round slammed into the vehicle, passing cleanly through it and gouging a lengthy furrow in the hillside behind.  This stricken vehicle also burned, and no one emerged from the conflagration that followed.   Borys was horror stricken as the field around him sprouted smoke columns, each one marking the grave of another Ukrainian vehicle. 
“These damn olded BMP2s are simply overmatched!”  he thought. 
“Come on.  We should pull back to a safe location to call all of this in.  Where did the American Sergeant go?” Borys asked his RTO. They began to crawl back towards the gully behind them as the battle shifted decisively in the Russians favor.