Post by Strange on Jul 13, 2009 19:34:23 GMT
Accepted, but at 2nd Lieutenant, rather than 1st.
Account E-Mail: LogicCure@hotmail.com
Name: Jonathan Strange
Nationality:
US
What Army will Your Character Serve Beneath?
US
Character History:
Jonathan Strange was nothing truly unique as far as general life experiences go. Born the second of four children to Alexander and Mary Strange of San Diego, California in 1918, Jonathan was firmly in the middle and thus received a little less attention than his older and youngest siblings, Alexander Jr and Elizabeth.
The lesser amount of attention afforded to Jonathan and Lillian, the third child, drove them to seek attention elsewhere. Jonathan took up reading, finding solace in the adventures of Robinson Crusoe and the like while Lillian became quite the tomboy. Because of his affinity for reading, Jonathan became the scholar of his family and lived in the shadow of the sporty and athletic Alexander. Neglect is a great motivator for some, and Jonathan expended all his energy to out doing his brother in the only area he could: Academics.
Jonathan breezed through school up to 1929, catching the attention of his teachers and eventually his father. The economic collapse of '29 did not touch Jonathan's life immediately, instead he watched the world around him slowly grind to a halt, the despair creep ever closer to his own life. Eventually, Alexander lost his business as a cobbler and had to take up odd jobs to keep his family fed, a little after that Alexander Jr left school and sports to help his father support the family. Jonathan however had proven his intellectual prowess enough to have his teacher fight to keep him in school. As the world tumbled into depression, Jonathan's father and a collection of teachers collectively saved enough money to keep Jonathan in school and propel him into higher education, instilling a deep sense of gratitude in the boy.
While American prosperity seemed to vanish forever, Jonathan travelled from California to the even greater decay of New England. Seeing just how bad life could have been for him, Jonathan applied himself fully to his education revelling in the teachings of Socrates and Plato, delving ever deeper into any literature he could particularly Livy's History of Rome. His closeness to the academics and thinkers of the time, brought the trouble brewing in Europe and Asia into sharp clarity. Every one he knew understood the inevitably of armed conflict but still expressed a need for neutrality for as long as it was possible.
Threw letters from his sister Lillian, Jonathan was overjoyed when news that his family had been able to snag jobs at a local factory once arms manufacturing began a priority of the US Government. The wait of his family's future was lifted off his shoulders and when he graduated in 1940 he was optimistic about his own future even as war became a reality in Europe. His optimism was cut short with FDR's order to reinstate the draft only months after his graduation. Jonathan was one of the first drafted in October of 1940. Once again, Jonathan caught the eyes of his instructors and was pulled out of the enlisted ranks straight out of boot camp and put into the Officer Candidate School.
After a 90 day crash course in military strategy and tactics, along with some officer etiquette, Jonathan became Second Lieutenant Jonathan Strange of the US Army. From that moment on, Jonathan's entire existence became a waiting game. The war in Europe was escalating out of control with the fall of France, Belgium, the Netherlands, Denmark, and Norway in 1940 and the German attack on the Soviet Union in 1941, all the while the US Army was hastily readying itself for a war it knew that it couldn't avoid. With America's attention fixated on the war in Europe, the attack on Pearl Harbour came as a massive shock and caught the US military completely off guard and unprepared.
In march of 1942 after 18 months of service, 2Lt. Strange was promoted to First Lieutenant and transferred the 3rd Infantry Division in preparation for Operation Torch. On November 8th, 1942, 1Lt. Strange and his platoon were some of the first American troops to engage in combat in Europe since the end of the Great War 24 years earlier.
Military Rank:
First Lieutenant
Writing Sample:
“Operation Shingle”
Somewhere near Cisterna, Italy
2:30 February 4th, 1943
An invisible tank shell screamed through the black night and exploded a few yards in front of Lt. Strange's small “command trench”, as he called it, bathing the hillside in pale white light for an instant. In that moment, the line of tanks below him were clearly visible in all their glorious horror. A self-propelled rocket shrieked it's way down the hill further down the line but failed to detonate, instead there was only a small flash of sparks followed by a eerie clang as the rocket bounced off the armour of a tank.
Another flash caught the dark shapes of enemy troops creeping up the hill. Strange had ordered his platoon to hold their fire until he gave the order to fire. With each exploding shell, the dark shapes jumped forward just a little more. Strange knew the men most being getting unnerved with the enemy approaching and enemy armour shelling their positions. A lone rifle crack from his left made it clear that he couldn't wait any longer. He removed a flare gun from a bag near his feet, pointed it up and slightly forward and pulled the trigger. A little white ball burst forth and streaked upwards for moment and then exploded into a deep red glow that illuminated the entire area as it slowly drifted downwards on its tiny parachute.
Strange's men knew what to do and immediately opened fire on the panicked figures below. A chorus of cracks, burps, and whining broke the night air. Most the figures dropped as low to the ground as they could while a few turned to run but were easily cut down in seconds. With the tanks now illuminated, more rockets shrieked down the hill with a bit better aim. Two rockets made contact with the nearest tank, a Panzer IV, one bouncing off again and the other striking the base of the turret with a satisfying flash and bang. A lucky shot. The bazookas that he'd been assigned hadn't proven to be very effective thus far, this hit was the first solid hit made since he'd received them a few months ago.
Strange's moment of pride was cut short as a tank round landed in the foxhole from which the lucky rocket had come. There were no screams of pain, just the shriek of the shell and a flash. The flare had worked against his anti-tank crews by illuminating the tell-tale smoke trails that the rockets left.
“Son of a bitch.” Strange muttered as he turned to one of his runners, one Private Green. Tapping him on the shoulder, “Green, go tell the bazooka crews to hold their fire until those tanks get closer. We'll try to cover you a little.” Green nodded and waited in the back corner for his covering fire. Taking a hold of the MG team leader in the trench with him, one Corporal Mudd, “Alright, I need you to suppress anything that moves over on the right. Green's counting on you.” A final slap on Mudd's back and the team reoriented and unleashed a rain of bullets from their .50 cal heavy machine gun. Strange nodded to Green and the man shot up and out of the trench and into the night.
A cry from further down the hill brought Strange's attention back to the machine gun crew. The massive .50 caliber rounds were ripping up everything in their path be it earth, brush, or man. It was an awesome sight. He'd seen entire German platoons surrender just at the sound of this monster barking away. That was not the case this time, though. Instead of scaring anyone away, the machine gun drew the focused wrath of the tanks with several shells landing at almost the same time all around the trench. At the bottom of the hill, several tanks began to move crawling forward toward Strange and his men. He also noticed that none of the bazooka crews weren't firing anymore, but there was no way of knowing if it was the work of Green or if they'd simply been snuffed out by the enemy.
The shapes of the enemy infantry retreated back down the hill as the tanks crawled menacingly upwards. By now the flare had fluttered down to the ground and was quickly put off by nearby Germans. Without the light of the flare to guide them, the guns on both sides fell silent. The only sounds were the screeching of the tank tracks moving closer to the American lines. Strange had faith in his men and quietly waited for the Germans to get too close. When it seemed that the tanks were almost on top of them a grenade was thrown, its flash lighting up the tanks only feet away from the defenders. Rockets screeched out and slammed into the exposed tracks of the tanks disabling most of them. With the tanks immobile and the infantry certainly right behind them, Strange loaded another flare and fired into the sky. Once again the flare lit the entire area revealing the stunned Germans right in front of the Americans. They were so close that both sides could here the surprised gasps of the other, but the Germans were in the worst spot. The Americans opened fire once again and cut down nearly the entire assault force.
In retribution, the tanks hull mounted machine guns came to life firing at anything that remotely looked like a person, friend or foe. Strange decided that despite how exposed the flare made him he needed to remove the threat of the tanks. Grabbing Mudd by the shoulders, handing him a grenade, and quickly whispering his intentions.
The two made a dash for the closest tank, only a few yards away. Ignoring the fire from a machine gun further down the hill, the duo leaped on top of the tank with Strange taking hold of the turret hatch and forcing it open as quickly as possible. Mudd pulled the pin, and threw the grenade down into the hatch just as the machine gun downhill zeroed in on him. He managed to get the grenade in but a bullet caught him in the shoulder and threw him off the tank. Seeing Mudd fall, Strange slammed down the hatch and threw himself over it to keep it down. He could hear the panicked shuffling and cries below him, then a muffled bang, and then silence. Not wasting any time, Strange immediately dismounted to avoid the machine gun. He was mostly successful but caught a round in the leg from a nearby German rifle as he picked up the wounded Mudd and managed to stagger back to the trench.
Once safely inside, Strange took stock of the situation again. He could see other teams repeating his assault on tanks all down the line and the beaten Germans retreating down the hill under fire from his men. They'd beaten them back this time, but his radioman reported that this was happening all along the front and that other sections weren't as lucky as they had been. A full scale counter-attack was under way and it was just a matter of time before their opponents regrouped at came back with even greater fury.
Account E-Mail: LogicCure@hotmail.com
Name: Jonathan Strange
Nationality:
US
What Army will Your Character Serve Beneath?
US
Character History:
Jonathan Strange was nothing truly unique as far as general life experiences go. Born the second of four children to Alexander and Mary Strange of San Diego, California in 1918, Jonathan was firmly in the middle and thus received a little less attention than his older and youngest siblings, Alexander Jr and Elizabeth.
The lesser amount of attention afforded to Jonathan and Lillian, the third child, drove them to seek attention elsewhere. Jonathan took up reading, finding solace in the adventures of Robinson Crusoe and the like while Lillian became quite the tomboy. Because of his affinity for reading, Jonathan became the scholar of his family and lived in the shadow of the sporty and athletic Alexander. Neglect is a great motivator for some, and Jonathan expended all his energy to out doing his brother in the only area he could: Academics.
Jonathan breezed through school up to 1929, catching the attention of his teachers and eventually his father. The economic collapse of '29 did not touch Jonathan's life immediately, instead he watched the world around him slowly grind to a halt, the despair creep ever closer to his own life. Eventually, Alexander lost his business as a cobbler and had to take up odd jobs to keep his family fed, a little after that Alexander Jr left school and sports to help his father support the family. Jonathan however had proven his intellectual prowess enough to have his teacher fight to keep him in school. As the world tumbled into depression, Jonathan's father and a collection of teachers collectively saved enough money to keep Jonathan in school and propel him into higher education, instilling a deep sense of gratitude in the boy.
While American prosperity seemed to vanish forever, Jonathan travelled from California to the even greater decay of New England. Seeing just how bad life could have been for him, Jonathan applied himself fully to his education revelling in the teachings of Socrates and Plato, delving ever deeper into any literature he could particularly Livy's History of Rome. His closeness to the academics and thinkers of the time, brought the trouble brewing in Europe and Asia into sharp clarity. Every one he knew understood the inevitably of armed conflict but still expressed a need for neutrality for as long as it was possible.
Threw letters from his sister Lillian, Jonathan was overjoyed when news that his family had been able to snag jobs at a local factory once arms manufacturing began a priority of the US Government. The wait of his family's future was lifted off his shoulders and when he graduated in 1940 he was optimistic about his own future even as war became a reality in Europe. His optimism was cut short with FDR's order to reinstate the draft only months after his graduation. Jonathan was one of the first drafted in October of 1940. Once again, Jonathan caught the eyes of his instructors and was pulled out of the enlisted ranks straight out of boot camp and put into the Officer Candidate School.
After a 90 day crash course in military strategy and tactics, along with some officer etiquette, Jonathan became Second Lieutenant Jonathan Strange of the US Army. From that moment on, Jonathan's entire existence became a waiting game. The war in Europe was escalating out of control with the fall of France, Belgium, the Netherlands, Denmark, and Norway in 1940 and the German attack on the Soviet Union in 1941, all the while the US Army was hastily readying itself for a war it knew that it couldn't avoid. With America's attention fixated on the war in Europe, the attack on Pearl Harbour came as a massive shock and caught the US military completely off guard and unprepared.
In march of 1942 after 18 months of service, 2Lt. Strange was promoted to First Lieutenant and transferred the 3rd Infantry Division in preparation for Operation Torch. On November 8th, 1942, 1Lt. Strange and his platoon were some of the first American troops to engage in combat in Europe since the end of the Great War 24 years earlier.
Military Rank:
First Lieutenant
Writing Sample:
“Operation Shingle”
Somewhere near Cisterna, Italy
2:30 February 4th, 1943
An invisible tank shell screamed through the black night and exploded a few yards in front of Lt. Strange's small “command trench”, as he called it, bathing the hillside in pale white light for an instant. In that moment, the line of tanks below him were clearly visible in all their glorious horror. A self-propelled rocket shrieked it's way down the hill further down the line but failed to detonate, instead there was only a small flash of sparks followed by a eerie clang as the rocket bounced off the armour of a tank.
Another flash caught the dark shapes of enemy troops creeping up the hill. Strange had ordered his platoon to hold their fire until he gave the order to fire. With each exploding shell, the dark shapes jumped forward just a little more. Strange knew the men most being getting unnerved with the enemy approaching and enemy armour shelling their positions. A lone rifle crack from his left made it clear that he couldn't wait any longer. He removed a flare gun from a bag near his feet, pointed it up and slightly forward and pulled the trigger. A little white ball burst forth and streaked upwards for moment and then exploded into a deep red glow that illuminated the entire area as it slowly drifted downwards on its tiny parachute.
Strange's men knew what to do and immediately opened fire on the panicked figures below. A chorus of cracks, burps, and whining broke the night air. Most the figures dropped as low to the ground as they could while a few turned to run but were easily cut down in seconds. With the tanks now illuminated, more rockets shrieked down the hill with a bit better aim. Two rockets made contact with the nearest tank, a Panzer IV, one bouncing off again and the other striking the base of the turret with a satisfying flash and bang. A lucky shot. The bazookas that he'd been assigned hadn't proven to be very effective thus far, this hit was the first solid hit made since he'd received them a few months ago.
Strange's moment of pride was cut short as a tank round landed in the foxhole from which the lucky rocket had come. There were no screams of pain, just the shriek of the shell and a flash. The flare had worked against his anti-tank crews by illuminating the tell-tale smoke trails that the rockets left.
“Son of a bitch.” Strange muttered as he turned to one of his runners, one Private Green. Tapping him on the shoulder, “Green, go tell the bazooka crews to hold their fire until those tanks get closer. We'll try to cover you a little.” Green nodded and waited in the back corner for his covering fire. Taking a hold of the MG team leader in the trench with him, one Corporal Mudd, “Alright, I need you to suppress anything that moves over on the right. Green's counting on you.” A final slap on Mudd's back and the team reoriented and unleashed a rain of bullets from their .50 cal heavy machine gun. Strange nodded to Green and the man shot up and out of the trench and into the night.
A cry from further down the hill brought Strange's attention back to the machine gun crew. The massive .50 caliber rounds were ripping up everything in their path be it earth, brush, or man. It was an awesome sight. He'd seen entire German platoons surrender just at the sound of this monster barking away. That was not the case this time, though. Instead of scaring anyone away, the machine gun drew the focused wrath of the tanks with several shells landing at almost the same time all around the trench. At the bottom of the hill, several tanks began to move crawling forward toward Strange and his men. He also noticed that none of the bazooka crews weren't firing anymore, but there was no way of knowing if it was the work of Green or if they'd simply been snuffed out by the enemy.
The shapes of the enemy infantry retreated back down the hill as the tanks crawled menacingly upwards. By now the flare had fluttered down to the ground and was quickly put off by nearby Germans. Without the light of the flare to guide them, the guns on both sides fell silent. The only sounds were the screeching of the tank tracks moving closer to the American lines. Strange had faith in his men and quietly waited for the Germans to get too close. When it seemed that the tanks were almost on top of them a grenade was thrown, its flash lighting up the tanks only feet away from the defenders. Rockets screeched out and slammed into the exposed tracks of the tanks disabling most of them. With the tanks immobile and the infantry certainly right behind them, Strange loaded another flare and fired into the sky. Once again the flare lit the entire area revealing the stunned Germans right in front of the Americans. They were so close that both sides could here the surprised gasps of the other, but the Germans were in the worst spot. The Americans opened fire once again and cut down nearly the entire assault force.
In retribution, the tanks hull mounted machine guns came to life firing at anything that remotely looked like a person, friend or foe. Strange decided that despite how exposed the flare made him he needed to remove the threat of the tanks. Grabbing Mudd by the shoulders, handing him a grenade, and quickly whispering his intentions.
The two made a dash for the closest tank, only a few yards away. Ignoring the fire from a machine gun further down the hill, the duo leaped on top of the tank with Strange taking hold of the turret hatch and forcing it open as quickly as possible. Mudd pulled the pin, and threw the grenade down into the hatch just as the machine gun downhill zeroed in on him. He managed to get the grenade in but a bullet caught him in the shoulder and threw him off the tank. Seeing Mudd fall, Strange slammed down the hatch and threw himself over it to keep it down. He could hear the panicked shuffling and cries below him, then a muffled bang, and then silence. Not wasting any time, Strange immediately dismounted to avoid the machine gun. He was mostly successful but caught a round in the leg from a nearby German rifle as he picked up the wounded Mudd and managed to stagger back to the trench.
Once safely inside, Strange took stock of the situation again. He could see other teams repeating his assault on tanks all down the line and the beaten Germans retreating down the hill under fire from his men. They'd beaten them back this time, but his radioman reported that this was happening all along the front and that other sections weren't as lucky as they had been. A full scale counter-attack was under way and it was just a matter of time before their opponents regrouped at came back with even greater fury.