Post by Brandon Martin on Nov 29, 2009 18:23:17 GMT
A bit on the short side, but you're grammar seems to be fine, so I'll accept you as a Sergeant.
Account E-Mail: Bloodxandxrank@aim.com
Name: Brandon J. Martin
Nationality: Portuguese
What Army will Your Character Serve Beneath?
UK, US or Soviet: US
Character History:
- Brandon's Mother's side of the family immigrated from Portugal to the United States in 1917 during the height of the first World War. Brandon's mother met his father in 1919 sometime after he had returned from duty in WWI. They where married and Brandon was born in 1921. Born and raised in a small, humble home in Providence Rhode Island he was always fascinated by his father's stories of valor and courage. At the outbreak of the second world war he quickly joined the U.S army even though both his parents disapproved. Hoping to make a proud name for himself he was eager to begin his road...a road his father had paved for him in story.
Military Rank: Sergeant
So please choose wisely, use the following links to help you choose.
UK Military Ranks!
US Military Ranks!
Soviet Russian Military Ranks!
Writing Sample:
The smell of the cool, crisp autumn air filled Brandon's nostrils as he crawled under enemy barbed wire. His eyes were slightly closed as he tried to push the thought of the dangling potato mashers that were mere inches above him.
"Carefully....carefully" He muttered quietly to himself.
As he passed from underneath the wire he quickly brought himself to a crouching position, and with one final glance around he slowly moved through the night. He hadn't gone more than 100 feet before he stopped and sat against a tree propping his back against it. He removed his helmet and took his canteen from his belt. Choking down a few gulps he wiped the almost frozen sweat from his brow and breathed out a sigh.
"What the hell am I doing here..." His mind began when suddenly something caught his attention.
He peeked from around the tree towards what he thought was the rustling of leaves and breaking of small twigs. He scrambled to screw the cap back on his canteen and pulling his helmet back on his raised his M1 Carbine in the direction of the sound. To his dismay nothing appeared. Just the same all ending darkness that had been there a minute ago. A shivered ran down his spine and he shuddered. He felt as thought a frozen tundra was breathing down his neck. He shook his head and brought himself to his feet. Trying to stay low he hunched over but tried to move as quickly as possible. As he moved through the forest he reached a ridge with a steep hill just under it. He remembered climbing this not more than a few hours ago. He began climbing down when he stopped. This time he looked around towards what he thought was a voice.
"P-Pr-Probably just the wind" He shuddered as the thought ran through his mind.
Suddenly the ground beneath him gave way and he tumbled down the embankment. As he hit the ground he let out a groan and looked around. He had tumbled into a bed of leaves and for a second he indulged himself in a split second reprieve from fear or running. As he brought himself back to reality the voice seemed to grow louder. Brandon's eyes squinted in the darkness hoping to make something out but to his surprise the only shadow he saw was from a tree. He scrambled to his feet now running in a full blown sprint. He knew he was getting close to his line he slowed down. He had done it. Mere feet away was the end of the tree line and a football field length away a new tree line started. He stopped trying to psych himself for the upcoming marathon when once again his mind was jostled by sound. Rustling,snapping,howling. That was it Brandon had, had enough. Taking one more deep breathe he broke from the tree line sprinting as if the devil himself was after him. The branches of the new tree line nicked his face and he stumbled over roots. He felt as if he had ran forever when he saw in the distance figures.
"Flash" someone whispered as he approached.
"T-Thunder" Brandon gasped between chest heaves.
He jumped into a foxholes and his fellow soldier grabbed him.
"Brandon is that you buddy" He asked grabbing his collar and pulling him close.
"Yeah it's me" He gasped nodding his head and pulling his ally off him.
"Dear lord we thought you were dead" His friend said sitting down and handing him a small can of beans.
Brandon grabbed it and began eating as if he were a starving animal. Soon there was nothing left and he placed the can down, leaning back against the foxhole wall.
"Safe...." He muttered as he closed his eyes.
His comment was seemingly lost on his compatriots but Brandon relished in the feeling, a huge smile on his face.
Account E-Mail: Bloodxandxrank@aim.com
Name: Brandon J. Martin
Nationality: Portuguese
What Army will Your Character Serve Beneath?
UK, US or Soviet: US
Character History:
- Brandon's Mother's side of the family immigrated from Portugal to the United States in 1917 during the height of the first World War. Brandon's mother met his father in 1919 sometime after he had returned from duty in WWI. They where married and Brandon was born in 1921. Born and raised in a small, humble home in Providence Rhode Island he was always fascinated by his father's stories of valor and courage. At the outbreak of the second world war he quickly joined the U.S army even though both his parents disapproved. Hoping to make a proud name for himself he was eager to begin his road...a road his father had paved for him in story.
Military Rank: Sergeant
So please choose wisely, use the following links to help you choose.
UK Military Ranks!
US Military Ranks!
Soviet Russian Military Ranks!
Writing Sample:
The smell of the cool, crisp autumn air filled Brandon's nostrils as he crawled under enemy barbed wire. His eyes were slightly closed as he tried to push the thought of the dangling potato mashers that were mere inches above him.
"Carefully....carefully" He muttered quietly to himself.
As he passed from underneath the wire he quickly brought himself to a crouching position, and with one final glance around he slowly moved through the night. He hadn't gone more than 100 feet before he stopped and sat against a tree propping his back against it. He removed his helmet and took his canteen from his belt. Choking down a few gulps he wiped the almost frozen sweat from his brow and breathed out a sigh.
"What the hell am I doing here..." His mind began when suddenly something caught his attention.
He peeked from around the tree towards what he thought was the rustling of leaves and breaking of small twigs. He scrambled to screw the cap back on his canteen and pulling his helmet back on his raised his M1 Carbine in the direction of the sound. To his dismay nothing appeared. Just the same all ending darkness that had been there a minute ago. A shivered ran down his spine and he shuddered. He felt as thought a frozen tundra was breathing down his neck. He shook his head and brought himself to his feet. Trying to stay low he hunched over but tried to move as quickly as possible. As he moved through the forest he reached a ridge with a steep hill just under it. He remembered climbing this not more than a few hours ago. He began climbing down when he stopped. This time he looked around towards what he thought was a voice.
"P-Pr-Probably just the wind" He shuddered as the thought ran through his mind.
Suddenly the ground beneath him gave way and he tumbled down the embankment. As he hit the ground he let out a groan and looked around. He had tumbled into a bed of leaves and for a second he indulged himself in a split second reprieve from fear or running. As he brought himself back to reality the voice seemed to grow louder. Brandon's eyes squinted in the darkness hoping to make something out but to his surprise the only shadow he saw was from a tree. He scrambled to his feet now running in a full blown sprint. He knew he was getting close to his line he slowed down. He had done it. Mere feet away was the end of the tree line and a football field length away a new tree line started. He stopped trying to psych himself for the upcoming marathon when once again his mind was jostled by sound. Rustling,snapping,howling. That was it Brandon had, had enough. Taking one more deep breathe he broke from the tree line sprinting as if the devil himself was after him. The branches of the new tree line nicked his face and he stumbled over roots. He felt as if he had ran forever when he saw in the distance figures.
"Flash" someone whispered as he approached.
"T-Thunder" Brandon gasped between chest heaves.
He jumped into a foxholes and his fellow soldier grabbed him.
"Brandon is that you buddy" He asked grabbing his collar and pulling him close.
"Yeah it's me" He gasped nodding his head and pulling his ally off him.
"Dear lord we thought you were dead" His friend said sitting down and handing him a small can of beans.
Brandon grabbed it and began eating as if he were a starving animal. Soon there was nothing left and he placed the can down, leaning back against the foxhole wall.
"Safe...." He muttered as he closed his eyes.
His comment was seemingly lost on his compatriots but Brandon relished in the feeling, a huge smile on his face.