Post by DBev on Apr 9, 2009 15:59:58 GMT
No it isn't too late to ask, but bear in mind the only reason I'm going to grant Sergeant is because there aren't any Italians yet...or if I've missed them then there are only a couple. Your scenario was short.
ACCEPTED!
-JT
Account E-Mai: EDITED OUT!
Name: Saviero Casterossa
Nationality:
- Italian
What Army will Your Character Serve Beneath?
Italian Army (when it comes).
Character History:
- Saviero was born to a peasant family in rural Tuscany in the year of 1921. His father, Cristiano Varissi, was an extremely poor farmer who was barely able to support his huge family. Saviero's mother died during his birth and his father soon turned to depressive drinking, leaving Saverio's older brother, fifteen year-old Lucas, to take control of the farm. Cristiano Varissi effectively drank himself to death; he died just after Saviero's fifth birthday, leaving his family more desolate and hopeless than ever.
The six Varissi siblings, including Saviero, the youngest, were alone and helpless and in the middle of nowhere. The farm was soon seized by bailiffs and the two eldest boys were forced to join the Italian army to make a living. The remaining four were adopted by three different families; the six brothers and sisters would be seperated for the rest of their lives.
Saviero was lucky. He managed to escape the world of poverty, even if it meant never seeing his family again, and was adopted by a rich Sardinian military officer. His surname was changed from Varissi to Casterossa and as soon as he was old enough, he was trained in several aspects of warfare by his adoptive father.
It was only to be suspected that he would follow in his footsteps and join the Italian army. What was surprising was that he chose to enlist as a common private, refusing the commision offered to him. He was one of the countless Italian soldiers to enlist during the early years of the all-encompassing conflict that would grow to be World War II.
Barely three months after he joined, he was promoted to corporal for his brave actions on the battlefield. He was determined to prove to the world that, although priviledged in many respects, he was as good a soldier as anybody...
Military Rank:
- Corporal
Writing Sample:
Saviero crouched down behind the rural cottage, trying desperately to control his breathing. The air was thick with screams and bullets. He asessed the situation. They were taking the village. No. They had taken the village. The body of a dead British officer lay at his feet, marinading in a puddle of his own blood. Saviero took the man's pistol; he wasn't likely to complain anyhow.
His blistered fingers curled around his rifle with determination. He swallowed and took a deep breath before charging out from behind his cover. He shot a single bullet towards a slow-witted English private who was barely able to register that he was standing straight in front of an enemy before his brains spilled out onto the uncaring concrete floor.
A few companions were still alive, still fighting. His energy renewed, Saviero ducked behind the stretching branches of a wizened old tree. He balanced his weapon on one of the branches and fired a second bullet; it punched through an unlucky Brit's body, sending him spiralling to the floor like a rag-doll.
A shot thumped into his arm. Saviero staggered backwards in pain. He was outnumbered. There were maybe ten of them while at least fifty of the enemy had survived the initial onslaught. There was nothing else he could do but retreat.
"To me!" he roared in his own language and, without checking if anyone at all was following him, he turned tail and bolted, swearing revenge. Some day.
ACCEPTED!
-JT
Account E-Mai: EDITED OUT!
Name: Saviero Casterossa
Nationality:
- Italian
What Army will Your Character Serve Beneath?
Italian Army (when it comes).
Character History:
- Saviero was born to a peasant family in rural Tuscany in the year of 1921. His father, Cristiano Varissi, was an extremely poor farmer who was barely able to support his huge family. Saviero's mother died during his birth and his father soon turned to depressive drinking, leaving Saverio's older brother, fifteen year-old Lucas, to take control of the farm. Cristiano Varissi effectively drank himself to death; he died just after Saviero's fifth birthday, leaving his family more desolate and hopeless than ever.
The six Varissi siblings, including Saviero, the youngest, were alone and helpless and in the middle of nowhere. The farm was soon seized by bailiffs and the two eldest boys were forced to join the Italian army to make a living. The remaining four were adopted by three different families; the six brothers and sisters would be seperated for the rest of their lives.
Saviero was lucky. He managed to escape the world of poverty, even if it meant never seeing his family again, and was adopted by a rich Sardinian military officer. His surname was changed from Varissi to Casterossa and as soon as he was old enough, he was trained in several aspects of warfare by his adoptive father.
It was only to be suspected that he would follow in his footsteps and join the Italian army. What was surprising was that he chose to enlist as a common private, refusing the commision offered to him. He was one of the countless Italian soldiers to enlist during the early years of the all-encompassing conflict that would grow to be World War II.
Barely three months after he joined, he was promoted to corporal for his brave actions on the battlefield. He was determined to prove to the world that, although priviledged in many respects, he was as good a soldier as anybody...
Military Rank:
- Corporal
Writing Sample:
Saviero crouched down behind the rural cottage, trying desperately to control his breathing. The air was thick with screams and bullets. He asessed the situation. They were taking the village. No. They had taken the village. The body of a dead British officer lay at his feet, marinading in a puddle of his own blood. Saviero took the man's pistol; he wasn't likely to complain anyhow.
His blistered fingers curled around his rifle with determination. He swallowed and took a deep breath before charging out from behind his cover. He shot a single bullet towards a slow-witted English private who was barely able to register that he was standing straight in front of an enemy before his brains spilled out onto the uncaring concrete floor.
A few companions were still alive, still fighting. His energy renewed, Saviero ducked behind the stretching branches of a wizened old tree. He balanced his weapon on one of the branches and fired a second bullet; it punched through an unlucky Brit's body, sending him spiralling to the floor like a rag-doll.
A shot thumped into his arm. Saviero staggered backwards in pain. He was outnumbered. There were maybe ten of them while at least fifty of the enemy had survived the initial onslaught. There was nothing else he could do but retreat.
"To me!" he roared in his own language and, without checking if anyone at all was following him, he turned tail and bolted, swearing revenge. Some day.
