To Yoshioka the exercises epitomized the Japanese penchant for shortsighted, self-indulgent thinking. He saw the unpires underestimate American strength and slant their decisions in favor of the Blue team [representing the Japanese fleet]. They even equated one Zero with three enemy planes. As an experienced pilot Yoshioka felt his hackles raise at such stupidity. But when he tried to bring up these points, he received a sharp admonition for his pains.

Time and again Yoshioka saw the activities of the Red team [representing the Americans] arbitrarily restricted when they threatened to upset Blue's planned movements as well as such acts of God permitted as the squall which miraculously blew up just in time to spare [the Japanese] task force all but token damage after the successful second mock attack. Yoshioka charitably decided that in view of the serious internation situation and the clear prospect of war, the umpires were trying to avoid anything which might foster misgivings or feeling of inferiority. Indeed, their tendency to underrate the enemy characterized Japanese naval war games prior to World War II, and it took the stunning defeat at Midway to bring this unrealistic practice to a halt.

Gee, this sounds terribly familiar. Remember this:

At the height of the summer, as talk of invading Iraq built in Washington like a dark, billowing storm, the US armed forces staged a rehearsal using over 13,000 troops, countless computers and $250m. Officially, America won and a rogue state was liberated from an evil dictator.

What really happened is quite another story, one that has set alarm bells ringing throughout America's defence establishment and raised questions over the US military's readiness for an Iraqi invasion. In fact, this war game was won by Saddam Hussein, or at least by the retired marine playing the Iraqi dictator's part, Lieutenant General Paul Van Riper.

In the first few days of the exercise, using surprise and unorthodox tactics, the wily 64-year-old Vietnam veteran sank most of the US expeditionary fleet in the Persian Gulf, bringing the US assault to a halt.

What happened next will be familiar to anyone who ever played soldiers in the playground. Faced with an abrupt and embarrassing end to the most expensive and sophisticated military exercise in US history, the Pentagon top brass simply pretended the whole thing had not happened. They ordered their dead troops back to life and "refloated" the sunken fleet. Then they instructed the enemy forces to look the other way as their marines performed amphibious landings. Eventually, Van Riper got so fed up with all this cheating that he refused to play any more. Instead, he sat on the sidelines making abrasive remarks until the three-week war game - grandiosely entitled Millennium Challenge - staggered to a star-spangled conclusion on August 15, with a US "victory".

If the Pentagon thought it could keep its mishap quiet, it underestimated Van Riper. A classic marine - straight-talking and fearless, with a purple heart from Vietnam to prove it - his retirement means he no longer has to put up with the bureaucratic niceties of the defence department. So he blew the whistle.

His driving concern, he tells the Guardian, is that when the real fighting starts, American troops will be sent into battle with a set of half-baked tactics that have not been put to the test.

"Nothing was learned from this," he says. "A culture not willing to think hard and test itself does not augur well for the future." The exercise, he says, was rigged almost from the outset.

Which, of course, led to this:

"The enemy we're fighting is a bit different than the one we wargamed against," said Lt. Gen. William Wallace, the commander of Army V Corps, while visiting troops in Iraq. "We knew they were here, but we did not know how they would fight."