Added hint above marker on tag location selection map. Closes #41

app/src/main/java/com/hvzhub/app/TagMapActivity.java

@@ -54,10 +54,12 @@ public void onMapReady(GoogleMap googleMap) {
         LatLng bascom = new LatLng(43.075299, -89.40337299999999);
         tag = tagMap.addMarker(new MarkerOptions()
                         .position(bascom)
-                        .title("Tag Marker")
+                        .title(getString(R.string.tap_and_hold_to_move))
                         .draggable(true)
                         .icon(BitmapDescriptorFactory.fromResource(R.drawable.hand))
         );
+        tag.showInfoWindow();
+
         tagMap.setOnMarkerDragListener(new GoogleMap.OnMarkerDragListener() {
             @Override
             public void onMarkerDragStart(Marker marker) {

app/src/main/res/values/strings.xml

@@ -103,5 +103,6 @@
     <string name="mod_update_test">tl;dr - Human Day Objective: Provide photographic reconnaissance of as many of the five potential supply drop zones. Photos must feature a three-person human pyramid. For scale, of course.   Story: It\'s been a rough year for the East India Military Company. Recruitment\'s at an all time low ever since the war broke out - all the real patriots joined the national army already, anyway. Your crew was part of a team sent out to some hellhole in the South Republic, contracted by the North to defend the location from any advancing enemy forces. You were only there for a few weeks, a little bit of fighting scattered hither and thither to keep you on your toes. That\'s why you signed on, after all, right? Escape, adventure, but, most importantly, the pay. It was pretty reliable work.   So, when your CO called everyone in for a briefing, you weren\'t expecting to hear the news: EIMC\'s past three checks have retroactively bounced. You pull out your phone, and, sure enough, your bank account\'s about twelve grand short of what you thought it was. You\'re not used to seeing the balance in red. Overdraft\'s a bitch. You can feel your neck burning hot under your collar.   \"Screw them!\" someone shouted from the crowd. Sounds and nods of approval rippled across the room. This wasn\'t your war - you were a gun for hire. Your loyalty dried up along with the cash flow. And your team has been an unwilling benefactor to this conflict for long enough - bullets are expensive, after all. There was really only the one thing to do: leave.   Weak, under-supplied, and broke, your crew packed back up on the transport ship and you start to make your way back home. Who cared what those broke-ass armchair generals thought, anyway?   It was only three days, three days at sea before the storm came. You were fighters, not sailors. The night was dark (duh), the waves immense, and the lightning ominous. The ship bucked and bowed atop the crests - you\'d swear you were going to capsize at least a dozen times. It was, quite literally, all hands on deck trying to keep the ship together. There was a blinding flash, a tremendous clap of thunder, and a monstrous, twenty-foot wave crashed down on the deck. You\'re knocked off your feet, and everything goes black.   You come to some time after. It\'s sunny. There\'s a seagull or two cawing in the distance. You rub... sand? from your eyes and push yourself up on the still-drenched deck. Your ship isn\'t moving anymore - you can tell, you\'ve usually been seasick three times over by this point. You look around to your comrades, also coming to after the long, story night. You walk over to the bow and peer over. You\'re marooned. On a desert island. In the middle of goddamn nowhere.   Your CO calls for a little pow-wow. Obviously, this wasn\'t exactly according to plan. You were low on food and supplies to begin with - and no one was exactly stockpiling for a island getaway. He\'s been in contact with one of East India\'s remote operators - one that\'s still getting paid, of course - and he thinks he can help. The conflict to the South was a hungry beast, a gaping maw that devoured bullets, jeeps, and human lives. Your old buds the North routinely send supply airdrops of food and weapons across the pond - automated, of course, pilots are damned expensive. He thinks he can reroute one of the aircraft flying closeby to take a path directly over the island you\'ve shipwrecked on. All he needs, he says, is a dropzone. He transmits some old satellite reconnaissance data. There\'s five possible zone candidates to drop the supplies - he needs you to check each of them out and see where he should send the plane. Go to the sites, check them out, and report back.</string>
     <string name="are_you_sure_you_want_to_quit">Are you sure you want to quit?</string>
     <string name="quit">Quit</string>
+    <string name="tap_and_hold_to_move">Tap and hold to move</string>
 
 </resources>