Wolfenstein, busting out of your iPhone

When I was 13 I was around at my mate’s place as often as I could be just to play Wolfenstein 3D on his better-than-mine system. He had colour graphics and a sound card, while my Commodore 64 only had enough grunt for side-scrolling platformers and breakout clones and my IBM clone could barely muster monochrome. Wolfenstein was the pinnacle of gaming. It was just like you were there, with your little gun waving in front of you and meals left on the floor. And B.J. Blazkowicz’s face peering out at you to remind you to keep away from big men with chain-guns. I couldn’t play it enough.

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