As a gamer always on the hunt for something that isn’t just the usual run-and-gun affair, Last Train Home caught my eye and held it tight. Trust me, this isn’t your typical point A to B type of game. It’s a ride—a long, hard, and gripping trek back home during a stormy time when the world was tearing itself apart after World War One. I boarded the game’s armored train, unsure of where exactly it would take me, and found myself deep in the thick of the Russian Civil War.
The Mission: Get Home without Starting a War
Here’s the deal: I was the leader of the Czechoslovak Legion, just a bunch of folks trying to get home after fighting in a war that wasn’t really theirs. And the path? Across a massive chunk of war-torn Russia—nearly 5,000 miles to be exact. Talk about a trip from hell.
The beauty of this game is that it’s not about fighting to win a war. It’s about fighting to survive one that you’ve got no stake in. It’s about getting your people—doctors, cooks, and soldiers—back to their families, through lands where everyone sees you as the enemy, even if you’re waving a white flag.
The Heartbeat of the Game: My People
This game has a soul, and it’s in its people. Every soldier in my band had a name, a story, and a face. I wasn’t just moving chess pieces. These were human beings with dreams of getting home, and I cared for them. Some were tough, others good with fixing things, and a few could cook a meal that lifted everyone’s spirit.
Every move, every battle, I was there with them, coaching them on where to hide, who to fight, and when to rest. The game made me feel like a soccer coach trying to make every player shine in their own way. And rest they needed, because no one could just keep going without a break in this game.
And the fights! They were tough. Every bullet counted, and, let me tell you, hiding in a bush, trying to sneak past the enemy, gets the heart racing. But to get caught? That’s a quick road to disaster. I had to think, plan, and then think some more about every choice, because one wrong step, and it wasn’t just numbers going down—it was Ivan, the guy who told jokes, or Anna, the sharpshooter with three kids waiting at home.
Riding the Rails: A Train with a Mind of Its Own
I was also the train boss. Had to make sure we had enough coal to keep going, enough food so nobody starved, and enough ammo just in case. Every stop, I had to think hard about what we needed most. Do we take the risk of getting more supplies, or rush to safety as fast as the train wheels could carry us?
It was a game inside a game, planning the best way to use every last piece of metal or wood we could get our hands on. It felt real, figuring out what we could do without and what we couldn’t live without, knowing that these calls could mean life or death.
When Push Comes to Shove: Battle Time
The real action hit when our train stopped and we faced off with the enemy on the ground. Like a director commanding actors on a stage, I positioned my people, assigning them roles based on their strengths. But this was no play—every mistake was felt deeply.
Some battles were more about brains than guns—a stealthy crawl through the grass, staying hush and low. But at other times, things got loud and messy, and we had to fight tooth and nail. I sometimes wished the enemies weren’t quite so forgetful, though. They’d see us one second, then seem to forget we were ever there. It made things a bit easier than they perhaps should have been.
A Hairy Ride: Twists, Turns, and Decisions
Speaking of messy, the path was never straight. Problems popped up like whack-a-moles—do we go left or right, stop or go? Each choice felt huge, like steering a ship through a storm. Skip a fight because we’re out of bullets? That choice haunted me ’til the end.
And the story—told through cutscenes and the lives of our own people—was a heavy one. Villages emptied out, folks hurting, the scars of war everywhere. Each person in my troop had their own small story playing out, day by day. A spat here, a laugh there, and sometimes, someone just couldn’t take it anymore and left, leaving us all feeling a little emptier.
On a Train to Somewhere: The Building Blocks
The train was our home, and it had to keep getting better—stronger, faster, warmer. Upgrading felt like giving our metal monster a new set of teeth and claws, and it was crucial. Imagine a cold, starving soldier; that’s who you had to avoid making by managing your resources right.
And then there were the people we met along the way, each with their own sad tales. Sometimes, we could help; other times, we couldn’t stop to help even if we wanted to. Every new face was a gamble, saving some while perhaps endangering those already on board.
Verdict: Was It Worth It?
In the end, I wasn’t just playing—I was fighting, surviving. I was wishing, hoping, and sometimes despairing. Every choice was on me, and it felt darn personal. Not every game can make you feel responsible for a bunch of pixels on a screen, but this one did, and it did it in a big way.
Last Train Home isn’t just another game. It’s an experience—a gritty, messy, and challenging one. It made me care in a way few games do. The fact that I even have to think twice about whether it was worth it, tells you everything. It’s a long ride, full of stops and starts, but it’s one I won’t forget. So if you’re up for a bit of pain with your gaming pleasure, hop on. The Last Train Home is leaving the station, and it’s a journey that will stick with you, long after the credits roll.
My score: 9.2/10
