Post by Lisa Wieserman on Jun 26, 2009 3:00:23 GMT
Please keep in mind that as a civilian, there are currently no unit's you would be able to join and your inventory is limited to 9 slots, not that we chose that number, that's just the way the program works.
Other then that you are approved :)
YOU NEED TO REGISTER AN ACCOUNT SO I CAN ACCEPT YOU ONTO THE FORUM.
-JT
Account E-mail: Rabbitguru@yahoo.com
Name: Lisa Wieserman
Nationality: American
A Brief Bio:
Lisa was born in New York City, 1922. She lived in a lavish apartment in Manhatten with her mother. Her parents were divorced when she was only 8 yrs. old, which affected her profoundly. She blamed her mother at first for her acting obsession, but in her later years blamed them both for the separation. Her mother was of French ancestry, her father, German. They both worked as models, but her mother was taking acting lessons to become a Broadway actress which left Lisa stuck with a bossy Nanny she regarded with contempt. She loathed school, although considered highly intelligent and got good grades, she found it rather boring. At 15 she started to skip the private school she attended on a constant basis. Her mother and father were worried for her since she hung out with tough street boys. She was too wild for girls her age and considered a tom-boy.
At 16, 1938, Lisa was sent to Vichy France to be with her Aunt and Uncle in the country. She held no objections since she always wanted to go to Europe. She was not sorry to leave her parents as her mother was never home, and her father was too strict which created an estrangement between them. He thought she should be a model, stunning, with long blonde hair, radiant blue eyes, standing 5 ft 5. Lisa was into adventures with her friends so scoffed at the idea. So she got her passport and flew first class to France. At first she wanted to live with her Grandmother in Essen, but her father was worried about her safety as Germany was proving to be a powerful nation. He had expected war would ensue, as well as bombing. Although she did learn a little German from her childhood friend, Hans, she forgot most of what he taught her as the years went by as Hans went back to Germany to join the Hitler Youth.
Arriving in France, Lisa was welcomed by her relatives, but neither understood each other. They communicated with hand signals. Her Uncle Paul and his wife Lisette owned a paint portrait store. Lisa became agitated and hated their small country cottage, as she was used to space, a comfortable style of living, and friends. She would have none as she refused to speak French thinking the language was weird. She would always defy learning saying she was all American and would only speak English. She wrote in her diary and became an expert at tracking wild animals for fun for her hobbies.
At 1940, when France became occupied by Germany, she was thrilled she would find some Germans to speak with and perhaps help her learn more of their language she found quite interesting. She began to come to the paint store and work, sweeping floors, cleaning paint brushes and other odd jobs, so she could escape into the town and speak to German soldiers whom she found were friendly and close to her age, and handsome. At one point she was found speaking to five Wehrmacht soldiers raging in ranks from Private to Sergeant. The Lieutenants at times would talk with her. Many spoke English or she would speak a little German if they could not understand her. They were attracted to her as she reminded them of the German girls back home, with her long blond hair in braids and blue eyes.
The French in town were irate at her Uncle her niece was speaking with them. So he would not take her to town anymore which was six clicks away from the cottage. Withdrawing into herself, she found her Uncle's hunting rifle and played with it, shooting bottles trees and birds, anything to improve her marksmanship, which improved over time. But she had no idea some day she would be suspected as a partisan.
Writing Sample:
One clear and sunny summer afternoon, Lisa filled her rifle with bullets and started her daily routine. She was not aware of a German patrol a half click away. After several shots rang through the woods, the patrol was aware of the shooting and went to investigate.
In shock, she was greeted with a platoon of heavily armed soldiers aiming their MP40 Schmeissers at her. She immediately dropped her rifle and raised her hands.
"Bitte...Nicht schiessen! Ich bin nicht eine Partisan! Ich bin eine American!" She yelled and spoke in their tongue, expecting her grammar was poor, but they would understand her.
The platoon leader, a Wehrmacht Lieutenant, ordered two Privates to search her. She was relieved she did not bring her throwing dagger. Taking the rifle they were satisfied she was unarmed and reported to their CO.
With their sub-machine guns still trained on her, the Lieutenant walked up to Lisa and asked her in English,
"What are you doing here? Why are you shooting this rifle?"
In which she replied, visibly shaken.
"I have lived with my Aunt and Uncle for two years. They won't let me go to town to their paint store anymore because I like to speak to the German soldiers. I know some German from a childhood friend. I am only using the rifle for target practice for something to do. I speak no French and have no friends. I am sorry if I did something wrong," she stated as her nerves were at their zenith.
"Where are your papers?!" The Lt. demanded as he moved his weapon closer to her.
"In the cottage, want me to get them?" She asked, her eyes staring at his cold pale blue eyes, then shifting to his Schmeisser.
The Lieutenant waved over a Sergeant to walk with her as he swung her around with the barrel of his gun pointing at her back.
"Macht Schnell!" He shouted at her as she walked very fast to the house, tripping once and falling on her hands.
Lisa turned and looked up at him. He pulled her up and jammed his machine pistol into her lower spine.
"Ouch! That hurts...dammit!", she barked at the non-com as her fighting spirit took hold.
"What are you waiting for Sergeant? Used to shooting girls in the back?!" She again defied him.
This time she received a hard punch from the butt of his MP40. Her shoulder made her cry out in pain, the target of his anger.
"MOVE IT!", he ordered.
Opening the door, she raced to the desk and gave him her passport. By then the Lieutenant jogged up reprimanding the Sergeant to take it easy on her as she may be telling the truth.
"She was back talking me, disrespecting me.", he complained.
"Her papers are in order, but let us check this store in town. You can put your hands down girl. Show me the store where your Uncle works."
"But that's almost 5 miles!", she shot back.
"Then we march," The Lieutenant vollied as he spat orders for the others to catch up.
"My Uncle is going to kill me!" Lisa murmured under her breaath, but the keen hearing of the OberLeutnant caught it and quipped.
"Would you rather be shot here as a suspected French resistance fighter? You are a pretty thing. It would be a waste," he said, pushing the muzzle of his machine gun to her sternum.
"Ich gehe...Ich gehe. I am no French resistance fighter. I even have a grandmother in Essen. My parents sent me here from New York. I like the Germans. Was ist los?"
"No weapons are to be owned or shot by any French citizen. You being American, we may let it slide. But your Uncle owns the rifle. He may face charges."
Lisa shook her head as she rubbed her shoulder, leading the scouting party at point. With their helmets on they were very intimidating, shadowing their eyes, not like the ones in town with caps.
Other then that you are approved :)
YOU NEED TO REGISTER AN ACCOUNT SO I CAN ACCEPT YOU ONTO THE FORUM.
-JT
Account E-mail: Rabbitguru@yahoo.com
Name: Lisa Wieserman
Nationality: American
A Brief Bio:
Lisa was born in New York City, 1922. She lived in a lavish apartment in Manhatten with her mother. Her parents were divorced when she was only 8 yrs. old, which affected her profoundly. She blamed her mother at first for her acting obsession, but in her later years blamed them both for the separation. Her mother was of French ancestry, her father, German. They both worked as models, but her mother was taking acting lessons to become a Broadway actress which left Lisa stuck with a bossy Nanny she regarded with contempt. She loathed school, although considered highly intelligent and got good grades, she found it rather boring. At 15 she started to skip the private school she attended on a constant basis. Her mother and father were worried for her since she hung out with tough street boys. She was too wild for girls her age and considered a tom-boy.
At 16, 1938, Lisa was sent to Vichy France to be with her Aunt and Uncle in the country. She held no objections since she always wanted to go to Europe. She was not sorry to leave her parents as her mother was never home, and her father was too strict which created an estrangement between them. He thought she should be a model, stunning, with long blonde hair, radiant blue eyes, standing 5 ft 5. Lisa was into adventures with her friends so scoffed at the idea. So she got her passport and flew first class to France. At first she wanted to live with her Grandmother in Essen, but her father was worried about her safety as Germany was proving to be a powerful nation. He had expected war would ensue, as well as bombing. Although she did learn a little German from her childhood friend, Hans, she forgot most of what he taught her as the years went by as Hans went back to Germany to join the Hitler Youth.
Arriving in France, Lisa was welcomed by her relatives, but neither understood each other. They communicated with hand signals. Her Uncle Paul and his wife Lisette owned a paint portrait store. Lisa became agitated and hated their small country cottage, as she was used to space, a comfortable style of living, and friends. She would have none as she refused to speak French thinking the language was weird. She would always defy learning saying she was all American and would only speak English. She wrote in her diary and became an expert at tracking wild animals for fun for her hobbies.
At 1940, when France became occupied by Germany, she was thrilled she would find some Germans to speak with and perhaps help her learn more of their language she found quite interesting. She began to come to the paint store and work, sweeping floors, cleaning paint brushes and other odd jobs, so she could escape into the town and speak to German soldiers whom she found were friendly and close to her age, and handsome. At one point she was found speaking to five Wehrmacht soldiers raging in ranks from Private to Sergeant. The Lieutenants at times would talk with her. Many spoke English or she would speak a little German if they could not understand her. They were attracted to her as she reminded them of the German girls back home, with her long blond hair in braids and blue eyes.
The French in town were irate at her Uncle her niece was speaking with them. So he would not take her to town anymore which was six clicks away from the cottage. Withdrawing into herself, she found her Uncle's hunting rifle and played with it, shooting bottles trees and birds, anything to improve her marksmanship, which improved over time. But she had no idea some day she would be suspected as a partisan.
Writing Sample:
One clear and sunny summer afternoon, Lisa filled her rifle with bullets and started her daily routine. She was not aware of a German patrol a half click away. After several shots rang through the woods, the patrol was aware of the shooting and went to investigate.
In shock, she was greeted with a platoon of heavily armed soldiers aiming their MP40 Schmeissers at her. She immediately dropped her rifle and raised her hands.
"Bitte...Nicht schiessen! Ich bin nicht eine Partisan! Ich bin eine American!" She yelled and spoke in their tongue, expecting her grammar was poor, but they would understand her.
The platoon leader, a Wehrmacht Lieutenant, ordered two Privates to search her. She was relieved she did not bring her throwing dagger. Taking the rifle they were satisfied she was unarmed and reported to their CO.
With their sub-machine guns still trained on her, the Lieutenant walked up to Lisa and asked her in English,
"What are you doing here? Why are you shooting this rifle?"
In which she replied, visibly shaken.
"I have lived with my Aunt and Uncle for two years. They won't let me go to town to their paint store anymore because I like to speak to the German soldiers. I know some German from a childhood friend. I am only using the rifle for target practice for something to do. I speak no French and have no friends. I am sorry if I did something wrong," she stated as her nerves were at their zenith.
"Where are your papers?!" The Lt. demanded as he moved his weapon closer to her.
"In the cottage, want me to get them?" She asked, her eyes staring at his cold pale blue eyes, then shifting to his Schmeisser.
The Lieutenant waved over a Sergeant to walk with her as he swung her around with the barrel of his gun pointing at her back.
"Macht Schnell!" He shouted at her as she walked very fast to the house, tripping once and falling on her hands.
Lisa turned and looked up at him. He pulled her up and jammed his machine pistol into her lower spine.
"Ouch! That hurts...dammit!", she barked at the non-com as her fighting spirit took hold.
"What are you waiting for Sergeant? Used to shooting girls in the back?!" She again defied him.
This time she received a hard punch from the butt of his MP40. Her shoulder made her cry out in pain, the target of his anger.
"MOVE IT!", he ordered.
Opening the door, she raced to the desk and gave him her passport. By then the Lieutenant jogged up reprimanding the Sergeant to take it easy on her as she may be telling the truth.
"She was back talking me, disrespecting me.", he complained.
"Her papers are in order, but let us check this store in town. You can put your hands down girl. Show me the store where your Uncle works."
"But that's almost 5 miles!", she shot back.
"Then we march," The Lieutenant vollied as he spat orders for the others to catch up.
"My Uncle is going to kill me!" Lisa murmured under her breaath, but the keen hearing of the OberLeutnant caught it and quipped.
"Would you rather be shot here as a suspected French resistance fighter? You are a pretty thing. It would be a waste," he said, pushing the muzzle of his machine gun to her sternum.
"Ich gehe...Ich gehe. I am no French resistance fighter. I even have a grandmother in Essen. My parents sent me here from New York. I like the Germans. Was ist los?"
"No weapons are to be owned or shot by any French citizen. You being American, we may let it slide. But your Uncle owns the rifle. He may face charges."
Lisa shook her head as she rubbed her shoulder, leading the scouting party at point. With their helmets on they were very intimidating, shadowing their eyes, not like the ones in town with caps.