Post by Leberecht Strumfelder on Oct 30, 2008 1:01:13 GMT
Well, I uh, I am not sure how to issue for this, I'm guessing you would earn CP by reporting on neutral thread interviews, but I think it will be a nice change, ACCEPTED I'll create the account now and see if we have anything that fits.
-JT
Account E-Mail: EDITED OUT!
Name: Leberecht Strumfelder
Nationality: Austrian
What Army will Your Character Serve Beneath? Civilian - SS
Character History:
Leberecht Strumfelder was born to a middle-class family in Hafnerbach, Austria in 11 November 1901. He was the fifth of seven children in the family and one of six boys. By 1918, three of Leberecht’s older brothers had been killed, leaving Paul as the oldest of the family with young Erhard as the baby of the family. He was not able to fight in World War I as he turned 18 exactly one year after the war ended. He was thrust into a world of poverty. Because Julius Strumfelder, Leberecht’s father, had many connections, he was able to leave for the University of Zurich.
While at the University of Zurich, Leberecht studied economics and German language with studies in English. Four years later, Leberecht left the university and joined the staff of the Berlin Zeitung as a writer. He became the senior writer on economic and political matters. He covered the matters of the Reichstag and other items such as the effects of the Treaty of Versailles.
Later, he became an assistant editor for the Berlin Zeitung. He spent most of his time reporting the news of Berlin while making small trips to the United States and other European states to report on their affairs. After ten years, in 1933, Leberecht immediately left the paper and joined the NSDAP to write for their paper, Der Stürmer. There, he worked for five years before joining the staff of Das Schwarze Korps. Since that time, he has gone about the SS as a war correspondent and an economics/political journalist for the paper. He has reported ahnenerbe successes as well as telling the stories of SS heroes. His life has been that of a writer and reporter as well as a propagandist.
Military Rank: Writer for Das Schwarze Korps, the SS newspaper
Writing Sample: An article for Das Schwarze Korps:
Only three nights ago, I followed a small squad of German heroes into battle to watch them prevail over the British filth that aimed to take the small French village of Gien from the protection of our glorious Reich. We walked through a small wood before coming to the streets of the village to watch for invaders. No sooner had we gotten in placements and fortifications than British commandos tried to take us. Being without a rifle, he was left to watch and take photographs of the fire-fight that ensued. The cowardly commandos left the street with great speed as our forces advanced on them, clearing the street and pursuing the filth through the side streets of the defenceless village.
After an hour of searching, our forces moved back to the watch boxes to wait for the cowards to come forward from their cloak and dagger games. The intellectually inferior men soon came right into the trap of one Obersturmführer Glauwiz, a Prussian who has been in France for two years. He, with only one magazine of ammunition left, quickly led his forces into surrounding the British hogs into the centre of the village for their immediate capture. These men are heroes of the Reich for capturing our enemies and leading us to foil their plot of assassination of a leading Marshal of the territory.
Leberecht sat back in his seat looking at the sheet of paper that stuck out of the typewriter in front of him. The black letters stared out at the man that searched it for mistakes. He was suffering from sever writer’s block only able to write everything down without the usual detail he would have wished. Pulling the sheet from the machine with a sharp ring, he felt the dryness of the paper and put his head in his left hand, trying to read the text in the dark yellow light of his candle. His bedroom was a little airy in the Berlin apartment.
Clutching the paper, he walked off to the balcony that overlooked the dark Berlin street below. He could see the lights leading down the street toward the Reichstag to the east. He took a long breath and let it out as he raised his arms into the air and walked back into the room. Pouring himself a small glass of wine, he walked back to the balcony and looked out into the dark night, sipping the wine. It was a long day. He had only arrived in Berlin that morning, in shreds over the battle he had seen.
He was supposed to be writing about the heroic German soldiers he was watching in battle, but he could not think of the heroism as much as the Waffen SS soldiers that had dragged the Jewish Brit with chains from a tank about the village. That was not heroism in Leberecht’s book, but it was what he was to write about. He could not fathom writing in that manner. For what seemed the millionth time, Leberecht was thinking of the Nazism that he had so supported for ten years. He thought of the simple solution to this problem. He would sleep. And, he did. He dreamt not of life and felt nothing of importance. He was only glad to be away from the mad world he was in for the little time he was gone.
-JT
Account E-Mail: EDITED OUT!
Name: Leberecht Strumfelder
Nationality: Austrian
What Army will Your Character Serve Beneath? Civilian - SS
Character History:
Leberecht Strumfelder was born to a middle-class family in Hafnerbach, Austria in 11 November 1901. He was the fifth of seven children in the family and one of six boys. By 1918, three of Leberecht’s older brothers had been killed, leaving Paul as the oldest of the family with young Erhard as the baby of the family. He was not able to fight in World War I as he turned 18 exactly one year after the war ended. He was thrust into a world of poverty. Because Julius Strumfelder, Leberecht’s father, had many connections, he was able to leave for the University of Zurich.
While at the University of Zurich, Leberecht studied economics and German language with studies in English. Four years later, Leberecht left the university and joined the staff of the Berlin Zeitung as a writer. He became the senior writer on economic and political matters. He covered the matters of the Reichstag and other items such as the effects of the Treaty of Versailles.
Later, he became an assistant editor for the Berlin Zeitung. He spent most of his time reporting the news of Berlin while making small trips to the United States and other European states to report on their affairs. After ten years, in 1933, Leberecht immediately left the paper and joined the NSDAP to write for their paper, Der Stürmer. There, he worked for five years before joining the staff of Das Schwarze Korps. Since that time, he has gone about the SS as a war correspondent and an economics/political journalist for the paper. He has reported ahnenerbe successes as well as telling the stories of SS heroes. His life has been that of a writer and reporter as well as a propagandist.
Military Rank: Writer for Das Schwarze Korps, the SS newspaper
Writing Sample: An article for Das Schwarze Korps:
Hero in the Dark
Only three nights ago, I followed a small squad of German heroes into battle to watch them prevail over the British filth that aimed to take the small French village of Gien from the protection of our glorious Reich. We walked through a small wood before coming to the streets of the village to watch for invaders. No sooner had we gotten in placements and fortifications than British commandos tried to take us. Being without a rifle, he was left to watch and take photographs of the fire-fight that ensued. The cowardly commandos left the street with great speed as our forces advanced on them, clearing the street and pursuing the filth through the side streets of the defenceless village.
After an hour of searching, our forces moved back to the watch boxes to wait for the cowards to come forward from their cloak and dagger games. The intellectually inferior men soon came right into the trap of one Obersturmführer Glauwiz, a Prussian who has been in France for two years. He, with only one magazine of ammunition left, quickly led his forces into surrounding the British hogs into the centre of the village for their immediate capture. These men are heroes of the Reich for capturing our enemies and leading us to foil their plot of assassination of a leading Marshal of the territory.
-------------------------------------------
Leberecht sat back in his seat looking at the sheet of paper that stuck out of the typewriter in front of him. The black letters stared out at the man that searched it for mistakes. He was suffering from sever writer’s block only able to write everything down without the usual detail he would have wished. Pulling the sheet from the machine with a sharp ring, he felt the dryness of the paper and put his head in his left hand, trying to read the text in the dark yellow light of his candle. His bedroom was a little airy in the Berlin apartment.
Clutching the paper, he walked off to the balcony that overlooked the dark Berlin street below. He could see the lights leading down the street toward the Reichstag to the east. He took a long breath and let it out as he raised his arms into the air and walked back into the room. Pouring himself a small glass of wine, he walked back to the balcony and looked out into the dark night, sipping the wine. It was a long day. He had only arrived in Berlin that morning, in shreds over the battle he had seen.
He was supposed to be writing about the heroic German soldiers he was watching in battle, but he could not think of the heroism as much as the Waffen SS soldiers that had dragged the Jewish Brit with chains from a tank about the village. That was not heroism in Leberecht’s book, but it was what he was to write about. He could not fathom writing in that manner. For what seemed the millionth time, Leberecht was thinking of the Nazism that he had so supported for ten years. He thought of the simple solution to this problem. He would sleep. And, he did. He dreamt not of life and felt nothing of importance. He was only glad to be away from the mad world he was in for the little time he was gone.