Your emotions swing from euphoria to despair in seconds as you alternate from hunter-killer to passive prey. That's the mercurial nature of Silent Hunter 2. After my fish made contact and turned the freighters into flaming steel coffins, the convoy's three destroyer escorts descended on me, peppering my crash-diving sub with hull-ripping depth charges. But the sense of elation I felt is transforming into terror. Probably because I sunk two of the fattest ships in their convoy 15 minutes ago with a perfectly-aimed torpedo spread. Those British destroyers circling manically overhead show no signs of bugging off and leaving me to lick my wounds. Slicing through the frigid North Atlantic waters, my wounded Type VII-C U-boat is one well-placed depth charge away from bursting open like a cheap German piƱata and sinking rock-like to the ocean floor.
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