Your Character's Fate...

[Cpl. Joe Claude]

Err…these may change…great idea of thread!

Stephen Colly – Stephen was one of the many British and American soldiers that lost limbs in the war, he had been injured in a road side bomb and had to have his left leg amputated up to the knee, he stayed in Germany until the Winter of 1945 when he came across a horse market, and during the sales, Stephen recognised his old horse Joey and brought him for a basically nothing and brought his beloved horse home after the war.
Stephen later wrote his experiences of the war down in a diary, he stepped down from the army at the beginning of 1946. Stephen was mentally and physically scarred by the war, in 1947, he married a young girl from his village in Devon, and his homosexuality left him, he had 3 children, 1 boy and 2 girls. Stephen did not keep in touch with his army friends, he wanted to try hard to forget about the war but of course he would never and the horrors stayed with him for life.

Stephen died of Cancer in his early 50’s. His children and wife found his diary of his war memories when they were cleaning out his house; they published the findings and decided to get in touch with some of the families of the men that Stephen had been close with…

Joe Claude – Joe was one of the many American soldiers to discover the ghastly Concentration Camps, he librated Auschwitz and in doing so, found records of old friends from when he had lived in Germany as he was a Jew. Joe was so angry and shocked and upset about what he discovered that after the war, he took himself and a few other men down to where one of the supposed Nazi-concentration camp members had lived and shot him dead.
He stayed on in the army after the war, helping with the libations and aid of the Jewish people until he died of septicaemia in 1946 in France.

[⊕ Owen Pearson]

Owen Pearson

After being out of the service of war and seeing its suffering happening all around him, Owen Pearson went back home to New York, to his old life. Once getting back to the states, he got a simple factory job to keep both Prudence and himself afloat moneywise. The two of them rarely went out as they were trying to save up as much money as they possibly could from small jobs for a wonderful celebration.

Five years after Owen’s return, the two had a wonderful wedding ceremony, which would have been unheard of with the social class that they were in. The two were happily married, what they had been waiting for since before the war began. They had no honeymoon in order to keep up with earning the funds they needed to keep themselves from going homeless or hungry.

Three years after the wedding’s splendor, depression reared its ugly head back to Owen. Prudence saw the change in Owen and gave him a simple treatment. She saved some money and got him a complete set of paints and a few canvases. The idea was simple just put the pain out onto the canvas using the paint. It worked very successfully; it was not long before all the walls in the apartment were separate murals, becoming works of art that danced through the small space.

Another few years passed before the two of them had lost their jobs and were only keeping a house because of the generosity of a few of the people that Owen knew from the army that were much better off during the terrible time. After a while of this pattern, they were feeling terrible about putting such a burden on their friends. Prudence came up with an idea to make a small amount of money for them. So, she took the few canvases that Owen had painted during his depression, and she took them to an art museum. The head of the museum loved the pieces of Owen’s and paid a small fortune for them, craving more.

At this point, Owen was just getting another relapse of depression, and he was quite content to create more art. The sales of the artwork gained them a great fortune and got Owen international fame with many fans of his artwork, but even though they could afford to live above many other people, the money that didn’t go into Owen creating more art, they gave to the poor, funding soup kitchens and other services for the homeless or nearly homeless. They stayed in their small apartment funded only by the artwork that Owen was creating for the museums.

His art began being sold for more and more money, and so they ended up with a surplus being created. As they did not want to purchase material things with how happy they were with what they had, they decided to spend the money to go on the honeymoon that they never had. In order to do this, they sold their apartment as it was and went on an indefinitely extended vacation to wherever they thought of.

Their first destination was to the old battlegrounds and ruins of Germany, a country that was just beginning to reform. At one of the battlefields that Owen had once fought on, Prudence now asked him to paint a portrait of how the open field looked like during the midst of battle. In order to fulfill her wishes, Owen spent most of the next few weeks back on the battlefield, as this project attracted him so much bringing him back to when he was in the war, giving him nightmares causing a great exhaustion in his body. After the project was finished, he gave it to Prudence as a gift, which she cherished greatly.

Once they had seen the reforming Germany, they went off to England to meet some of the people that Owen had fought beside against the Nazis. During the time in England, Prudence did one thing that surprised Owen, she gave away the battle landscape that he had painted just for her. The only thing that surprised Owen more was waking up one day to see her next to him, silent, with a single drop of blood coming from the very corner of her mouth. They had a small funeral in London for her, with a small group of people to see the ceremony.

After the funeral, Owen told the people that he was staying with that he needed to go for a walk. After a week went by without him being seen, the search for him became spread out greatly. He left no evidence of where he was going.

Three years later, he was found face down floating in a canal in Venice, the time and reason for his death were never known.

[∬: Erik Schneider]

Well...that wasn't the happiest thing I've ever read...

[fredlebel]

It's as if war shatters lives.

[Nathan Whyte]

Pah! Who would have thought that, eh?

[PuNk! ™]

Medical Tech; Peter T. Brannigan:[/b]
Advancing slowly through France and parts of Normandy within the 3ID, Peter rarely saw any action after the eventful battles he'd witnessed within the Rangers and Commandos; Particularly the one eventful conflict that'd left his superior, Captain Matherson scarred for life, having been dragged from the field of battle by Peter himself, due to a close proximity of an exploding grenade knocking him unconscious. Shortly after, the Rangers was disbanded and so Peter drifted from division to division, another notable battle occurring within his short lived attendance in the Royal Marine's Commandos - where Peter's medical convoy was ambushed by the notorious SS-Commander, Rafael Wolfram.

After several appointed requests to be put onto the frontline again, but many disgruntled denies later, Peter was eventually noted for his prior actions in combat and granted permission by the 3ID's higher office to be put into combat. Given the command of Charlie-Company, a medical detail, Peter found himself once again grounded and facing the demons he'd once fought with many times before in conflict; Nerves.

Traveling with a convoy across France and into Belgium, Peter witnessed the onslaught he'd come very fond off in the past. Gunshots, artillery shells, not to mention the whole blood, sweat and tears he succumb too day after day. Ironically, these main aspects built up the once nervous and quiet Medic to become a more renown and talked about figure amongst the infantry's ranks. Noted for the bravery in combat, not once did Peter fire a single shot throughout two entire arduous battles across France, running into the line of fire more times than any man could remember, simply to save a dying soul. It was these qualities that earned that Medic his nickname; Saint Peter.

Soon promoted, Peter found himself dabbling with more responsibility than he'd figure responsible. Commandeering supply runs and medical convoys behind and on the lines, Peter juggled his expertise between being a medic and errand boy for the big-fish upfront. One account favorably known, was in 1943 when Peter was suddenly drafted from the 3ID temporarily to help supply British forces invading Sicily with ammunition and medical treatment. Faced with his ex-British counterparts, Peter helped as best he could and found himself plundered deep behind the frontline, dealing with all manners of supply runs and medical treatments for the wounded. By now, Peter can become more than just a simple Medic, but a highly renown piece of resource who held great time management and responsibility when it came to keeping errands running smoothly.

By October, Italy had switched sides (again) and Peter was proudly advanced to a commission by favorable word of the British enlisting the support. Soon after, Peter returned to the 3ID and American advancements into German held territory - caught unaware upon his return, Peter soon found himself dealing with a whole new conflict; Battle of the Bulge. It was of utmost importance to the Americans that they freed their paratroopers from the clutches of the Axis and held their ground. Once again, Peter was torn away from the 3ID to help medically treat the battered American forces on a mass retreat to regroup, but not only did Peter find himself medically inclined, but soon facing combat himself. Forced to fight by Captain Henderson; A tough commander of an Infantry platoon caught in the situation, Peter found himself multi-tasking with more errands than he'd care to remember. Treating the wounded and forced to fight, Peter incurred his first enemy deaths intentionally and acquired his first wounds for the consequences of it. Shot by a marksman who'd taken a shine to his red-cross emblems, Peter sustained a gunshot wound to the chest, but thankfully it was a clean shot and somehow missed any major organs by centimeters.

Pulled back, Peter survived to fight another day and was awarded the Purple-Heart two weeks after recovery in a nearby medical camp; But the wound didn't just break flesh, but mentally it scarred the Medical Officer with a numbness. By 1945, Jewish camps were being liberated one after another and Peter pushed himself to help in any way he could - Joining up with a convoy on their way to Breendonk Concentration camp in Belgium, he helped a great deal in treating the Jewish prisoners, as well as organizing for a local town to be taken under Military hand to help home the prisoners temporarily in their poor state - Moving them further down behind lines would have been devastating...

It was here that Peter lived out the remainder of the short lived war and attended a makeshift victory party put on by the locals alongside his GI brethren. Again, Peter found himself distinguished for promotion and earning the victory medal for surviving the great conflict - Peter stayed on as part of the Military Red-Cross and helped trained hundreds of young medical trainees over the years progressing from his experience from the second world war. Vietnam played a minor part within his life personally, but up to 30% of the medical staff assigned to be sent out, were taught by Peter himself and his staff.

Married with two children, both boys, Peter's life was far from calm and remaining apart of the Military had him overseeing many minor details required by the combat forces. With a further promotion in the works, Peter soon become humbly dismissed in 1998 at a ripe old age, with one of his sons walking in his footsteps to seek a medical career in the Military. His other son however, found himself plundering into the media way of life, but in the year 2000, Peter quietly died in mid january from natural courses and was given the last right by the Military at his funeral for such a long prosperous service.

---

I'll write Kyle's up at some point soon too.
~Danny

[♠ James F. Mason]

Thought I’d write these up properly.

James Mason

James Mason lived through the war without receiving any serious injury’s at all. He fought his way through Rommel’s Africa Korps, participating in Operation Crusader. He was reassigned to France and fought in many smaller skirmishes there, destroying quite a few Axis armoured vehicles. He was injured in France by a piece of shrapnel from a tank he had just destroyed, but luckily, the piece of metal didn’t penetrate his leg properly, instead, almost bouncing off. Still, the injury left him hospitalised for a month.

He ‘Swanned’ after the enemy through the Low Countries and Germany and was promoted to Sergeant in Netherlands for disabling an enemy Panzer tank that was holding up the advancing forces from an elevated hilltop. In 1946 the war finally ended for him and he was sent home.

James opened a pub in London after his Army service and he named it The Barracks which slightly confused some of the locals. He married Jane in 1949 and the two lived a happy life with 3 children; 2 girls and a boy. Over the years he kept in contact with many of his friends he had met in the army and he attended many Annual reunions.

He died of lung cancer in 1985 at the age of 64.