Post by Rolf Jäger on Jan 16, 2010 20:23:30 GMT
No worries, Dieter. It's long enough for me and you clearly deserve the high rank. 
Account Name: rolfjager (same e-mail as Dieter's other accounts)
Name: Rolf Jäger
Nationality: German
What Army will Your Character Serve Beneath?
Luftwaffe
Character History:
The Freiherr and Freifrau von Jäger, baron and baroness, respectively, had taken care of the lands and keeping up order in the town of Donzdorf, Stuttgart for as long as the locals could hope to remember. The gently sloping hills and green valleys provided ample grazing grounds for various livestock and farming, making the small town prosperous enough. Donzdorf was known for it's closely knit community, where everyone was expected to do their part in the daily toils of small town life. Many of the people were used to the old customs and habits that had dominated their lives since the days of the old and in some way, the town seemed to be still living in the past. Roland von Jäger owned a beautiful old German castle at the northern part of the town, where he lived with his wife, Liesel. The castle had previously belonged to a count, who's bloodline slowly withered away and the castle was then sold to the Jägers. Freiherr von Jäger owned much of the land surrounding the castle and most of his property around the proud old building was dedicated to his greatest passion, that of breeding horses. By trade he was a judge and he had worked at a court in Stuttgart for much of his younger years. The man had also served in the German cavalry during the Great War and after taking part in various battles, had attained the rank of Rittmeister. He was known for his strict and efficient manner of doing things and also of his quick wit when it came to commanding his troops, but he was also considered a very sensible man who always thought both of his soldiers and their horses. As the Great War ended in Germany's defeat, Freiherr von Jäger retreated back to the quiet town life, directing all of his attention to taking care of his lands and of course, his precious stock of Holsteiner horses. It seemed like an ideal enough an image, but something was, of course, sorely missing. The Freiherr had no heir and for some reason he and his wife had been unable to produce any offspring. This weighed heavily on Roland's mind and he was certain that he would be left without children, as if some strange curse was hanging over him.
It was easy to understand how overjoyed the man was when he found out that his precious Liesel was finally pregnant. The man made sure that Liesel was kept safe when she was expecting and the poor woman could hardly step out of her home without having her husband or the servants rushing in to make sure that nothing happened to her. When the moment of childbirth got closer, Roland hired a doctor and gave him an apartment very near to the castle, just to have professional help at hand when the child was ready to enter the world. So, on one quite cold, starry night in February, Rolf von Jäger was brought to the world with much clamor and reveling as the Freiherr made sure that the whole town knew he now had a son to inherit his lands and properties after the Freiherr himself would be gone. The sandy-haired and grey-eyed boy was christened after his grand-father and, being the only child of the couple, Rolf was immediately placed under strict guard. He was schooled at home and due to not having any siblings, spent much of his time alone.
It wasn't until later, at the age of six, when Rolf met some of the children living in the town and, as children tend to do, quickly befriended them. They used to play in the woods at the edge of the town and everything seemed very blissful to Rolf during those carefree days. His parents worried after their precious son, but he would always find new ways of escaping from his nanny to join the other children in their various games. Maybe due to being coddled and guarded so closely much of his life, Rolf had grown to become a very adventurous and wild boy, as if all the years of solitude had only caused his energy to bottle up and now he had to constantly seek new ways of releasing it. Things did not stay quite so blissful for very long. On one seemingly innocent day things took a very drastic change - much to little Rolf's dismay. The children had now found out that Rolf was no other than the precious son of Freiherr von Jäger and their attitude towards the small light-haired boy changed. They were more careful, almost fearful in his company, for their parents had told them to be vary around this particular child and to treat him with care and respect. The town people had grown used to treating the Jägers with respect and caution and to a lot of them, their very livelihood depended on the Freiherr and his lands. They knew that should anything happen to the young Jäger, the Freiherr would fly into a fit of rage and the people of Donzdorf would surely end up suffering for it. Rolf, despite his young age, naturally noticed the change in his playmates and felt baffled by it. He could not understand what was happening and it made him feel frustrated and angry. The boy found his friends shying away from him - it was easier to continue having rambunctious and carefree games when Rolf was not around.
Rolf sought out his friends and angrily commanded them to "go back to being normal". He did not want to go back to playing all alone and to being herded by his dreadfully boring nanny. The other children, in their childish fear, tried their best to comply, dreading the impending beating from their parents were they to fail in their rather confusing task. Rolf soon found out that his former friends were now more like his pawns and he could order them around at whim. He used this new ability to full extent, forcing the other children into doing silly and often dangerous tasks, just for his own amusement. He found that his new position as leader of the other children pleased him immensely and he did not realize just what kind of an effect his childish commands had on the other children. The poor kids themselves did not know what else to do but to obey; they were sure that if they complained about Rolf to their parents, they would be punished for not being able to follow their orders. This is, of course, where something went very wrong inside young Rolf's head - he started considering other people as being lesser than him, as something he could merely use for his own amusement and in this sense, his world view became curiously twisted at a very young age.
As the children grew older, their childish games slowly came to an end and their time was occupied by school, Rolf continuing his studies at home. He was dearly loved by his parents and although the Freiherr could hardly deny anything from his son, they made sure that the young Jäger got a proper education. In addition to learning about history, languages, politics and music, he was well-groomed in etiquette and social graces, from dancing to knowing the purpose and proper order of using the various plates, glasses and utensils at a dinner table. Rolf did not enjoy these boring lectures at all, but when his source of friends dwindled, he tried to find some other means of entertainment. Of course, his father being a renowned breeder of horses, Rolf learned to ride at a very young age and found himself spending a lot of time at the stables whenever he could. At the age of 12, and after some amount of whining and begging, Rolf was given his own horse by his father. The boy named the dark bay mare Lotti and with his father's careful instruction, proceeded to train the young horse, learning quite a lot about horsemanship in the process. The two became inseparable and young Rolf was often seen galloping on the fields surrounding Donzdorf on the back of his dear Lotti. Scarcely having any friends and his spirit smothered by the constant schooling and guarding, the boy found immense joy in leaving the dusty mansion behind and feeling the wind in his sandy hair as Lotti carried him over the landscape, fast as the wind herself. He also frequently brought the horse with him on hunting trips, an activity which Rolf found himself greatly enjoying.
The Freiherr was of course slightly worried that the adventures of young Rolf and Lotti would end up badly and he certainly gained more than his normal share of gray hairs as he envisioned the mare returning home, riderless. A careless and fiery spirit, it didn't take too long until Rolf had his first riding accident and Roland's worst nightmare inevitably came true. While jumping obstacles, Lotti stumbled and Rolf found himself flying over the mare's head, landing on the sandy field and feeling a sudden, sharp pain in his left arm. Rolf's arm broken in two places and the doctor ordered him to rest properly, while Rolf's horrified father went to the extreme measure of firing the riding instructor in a blind fit of horror and rage. Rolf actually felt quite proud of being properly injured, but soon came to the dreadful realization that having a broken arm only meant that he was reduced to nearly endless weeks of staying indoors and studying.
Still, no matter how much Roland tried to suppress his son's adventurous spirit, Rolf was back in Lotti's saddle as soon as the doctor allowed it. Numerous bruises and scrapes followed suite, but as if by some foolish luck the boy was spared from any worse injuries. It was soon after this when Rolf's previously almost dormant spirit of maliciousness raised it's head once again. One fine June afternoon Rolf walked inside the stables to take Lotti out for a brief walk and he found the mare's saddle lying in the middle of the stable corridor, dirty and untended. The guilty party could of course be no other than the young stable boy from the town, hired to tend to the horses and their equipment just a few weeks earlier. Enraged, Rolf snatched a long and vicious riding whip from the wall, seeking the boy out and proceeding to whip him with it, feeling little remorse as the boy cried and pleaded for mercy, trying to shield himself the best he could. Who knows what might have happened to the boy if the stable master had not intervened, grabbing Rolf's arm and forcing him to stop. Rolf survived the incident with little consequences and had to only suffer a long and serious lecture given to him by his father. Roland von Jäger had always been a fair and righteous man, but his son had apparently failed to inherit any of these qualities. The stable boy still stayed in the Freiherr's service and he did not complain about the beating in any way - he only made sure to steer clear off Rolf's path and to keep his mare's gear in pristine condition.
When it came to Rolf's choices in career, Freiherr von Jäger promptly put his foot down and told his son that he would study law. Rolf, who had now learned the ways of manipulating his parents quite skillfully to get what he wanted, soon found that in this particular matter he could not sway his father's mind. He was geared towards going to law school in Heidelberg and in 1934 he left the familiar scenery of Donzdorf and settled into living in Heidelberg. His home town was still not very far away and he visited home as often as he could, to see how his parents were doing and of course, to greet Lotti. Liesel was already on the lookout for suitable brides for Rolf and she refused to listen to any complaints her son might have had. A proper marriage was expected from the son of a Freiherr and Rolf had to sit through several meetings with young women his mother had deemed suitable for him. Rolf found all the women awfully boring and more than a few times, embarrassed his parents by stating his somewhat rude opinions out loud. Rolf knew quite well how to behave like a gentleman and how to show proper manners, but he simply did not care to peruse this knowledge when it came to these awkward social situations. He knew that if he acted like a buffoon, he would not find a wife and wouldn't have to get married, it was really as simple as that. On many occasions, he would completely embarrass his parents and blurt out something stupid or sneak away from the scene. Understandably, marriage did not seem very imminent in Rolf's future and he dedicated most of his time to studies and as the Nazi party grew in power, also in politics. His arrogant and brash behaviour made the other students shy away from him and he did not make too many friends. He had the habit of bragging lavishly and treating others as if they were lesser than him. On the other hand, the young Jäger could appear very meek and amiable, but this was only when he wanted to use someone to his own advantage. He had learned the art of manipulating people from swaying his parents minds and, brash as he might have been, also knew when it was better to show proper manners and to constrain his fiery nature. Often it was hard to tell what was going on inside the mind of the sandy-haired young lawyer and his mood could change very quickly, especially when provoked. A constant fire was burning inside him, a lust for fame and adventure, a fire that one day would surely consume the man.
Like many of his friends had done, Rolf aspired to join the National Socialist party in the mid-thirties. The ideas of superiority and building a greater, better Germany, appealed to the young Jäger. He joined the Nazi party in 1935 and eagerly absorbed the propaganda that seemed to engulf almost every aspect of his life. Schools were monitored closely by the Nazi officials and any teacher not deemed fitting to educate the minds of the German youth were removed from their posts. Previously Rolf had not really had strong opinions regarding Jews, but the writings concerning the racial superiority of the Aryan people made him quite assured that the Jews could then only be considered lesser people. The passionate speeches of Adolf Hitler struck a chord with Rolf and even though he previously had not felt very interested in politics, he was certain to catch all the speeches given by Herr Hitler.
In the tumultuous changes which the Führer issued upon the German nation, military forces were being built and prepared. Being mostly reduced to the occasional spot of sports and partying, Rolf was on the lookout for new ways of getting that brief spot of adrenaline high. With his father's gracious assistance, he acquired a motorcycle and was a common sight near the university grounds on the black BMW R32, whooping and laughing as he rode on at breakneck-speeds. This of course, got him into trouble more than once, but it did not dampen his fun for too long. After the motorcycling became slightly boring, he was introduced to Nationalsozialistisches Fliegerkorps, a paramilitary organization which introduced young men to piloting. Rolf was practically bursting with enthusiasm as he was familiarized to the basics of flight. Starting off with gliders, the young man was exhilarated with the freedom and excitement of flying. Rolf's father had naturally heard of his son's newest endeavors and tried to ban such dangerous activities from his son, but Rolf only distanced himself from his family in rebellion. In the end, there was little Roland could do to sway his son from this fresh aspiration.
In direct violation of the Treaty of Versailles, the new Luftwaffe was unveiled in 1935 and Rolf, of course, was teetering over two important paths he could take. He had already advanced in his law studies in Heidelberg and was expected to become a lawyer and ultimately, a judge like his father. He had already learned that being a lawyer could offer interesting challenges and excitement in it's own way, but he had always been a fan of more physical ways of obtaining his precious adrenaline rushes. He continued practicing piloting with the National Socialist Flyers Corps, but stayed in the university to finish his law studies. He had also started seeing a young, slender girl called Elsa, surprisingly one recommended to him by his mother, and he had taken a liking to the blonde, blue-eyed female. She was shy and giggled nervously whenever Rolf was around, not quite sure of how to adjust to the man's quickly changing moods. Rolf could talk in a perfectly happy voice, a big grin on his face and say absolutely horrific things about the Jews and "lesser races", as they were called. He could also go from being relaxed and chipper to shouting at someone in anger, especially if they dared to undermine his authority or challenge him in any way. He was like living fire, very hard to predict, but he also had the habit of taking his tasks very seriously and passionately. Whenever Rolf was in the right state of mind, he could be a very considerate and polite man and Elsa did not know what would have happened where she to reject the young baron. They continued having a rather obscure and tumultuous relationship much of the time Rolf studied law in Heidelberg.
After Rolf graduated from university, he found himself work quite easily by utilizing his family relations. His employers found Rolf a dedicated and hard-working lawyer, quick to react to changing situations, but also quite clearly aspiring for something else other than sitting endless hours in a courtroom. His settling into the law career made his parents happy and Roland was sure that his son would soon forget about the silly piloting business and calm down, putting his search for excitement on the account of youthful enthusiasm. The young Jäger even soon got engaged to his now long-time girlfriend, Elsa, and things seemed to be going quite according to the wishes of his parents.
The situation was changed abruptly as the impending war cast it's shadow over Germany. It was clear that the country was getting ready for something big and the amount of fighters in Luftwaffe grew from just over seventy aircraft to 2700 over a very short period of time. Rolf set aside his work as a lawyer to join the German army, where he received the basic training of a soldier. He did not find it easy to take orders, but was determined to suffer through the humiliating phase and one day, be the one giving out the orders instead. As if this had not been enough, much to his father's dismay, Rolf signed in for service in the Luftwaffe in 1937. Roland was sure that this would end up with his only son's death and then there would not be anybody left to inherit the family property. The Freiherr and his wife had certainly tried to produce more children after Rolf was born, but it had only resulted in two miscarriages. It seemed as if Rolf would remain the only child of the Jäger-family. When Rolf started his proper training to become a pilot in Luftwaffe, his father was already thinking of means to make sure that his son would stay safely on the ground, maybe instructing future pilots and doing other things that might be considered safe.
Rolf did not possess any particular or extraordinary talent for flying, but his enthusiasm and the way in which he absorbed information did make up to it in a way. He had already learned the basics of piloting in NSFK and many of the organization's members had actually transferred straight to the ranks of Luftwaffe. The instructors recognized Rolf's zest and his background as a loyal National Socialist helped him quite a lot - this way the Luftwaffe had a strong base of Nazi ideologies, which was quite different from the other branches of German military. He became a full-fledged pilot in 1938 and much to his dismay, for some reason found himself staying on the ground most of the time. It wasn't until 1939 when he had his first chance to make use of his training as the Luftwaffe took to the skies, attacking Poland with vicious efficiency. Rolf Jäger was among the attacking forces and even though they were naturally met with little if any resistance, the sheer sensation of flying and seeing the other planes coordinate the attacks in perfect unison with others made the blood pump wilder in his veins. Surely he was made for the excitement of flying and not spending his time among various books and papers, dedicating his life to something as dry and boring as state law? Rolf Jäger, now an officer of the Luftwaffe, soon became known for his quick and quite unpredictable method of doing things and for Rolf himself, the road to adventure and fame seemed to finally lay open before him.
Military Rank: Hauptmann, if that is possible. We have lost one Hauptmann from Axis just recently and I hope that my application proves that I have put in some serious time and effort writing it. If Hauptmann requires a longer sample, let me know and I will improve the application accordingly.
Writing Sample:
The powerful, steady rumble of the Daimler-Benz V12 engine made Rolf Jäger feel slightly drowsy inside the cockpit of his Messerschmitt, one he had affectionally named Lola after a character portrayed in a movie by the lovely Marlene Dietrich. He had always figured that all machines needed to have a female name, for they had the habit of effectively luring men in and would also often unexplainedly break down, causing much headache to men. His ever trustworthy wingman, Hauptfeldwebel Kronberg, had chortled at Rolf's choice of name, saying that he was only going to bring trouble upon himself, calling the fighter such a fickle name. The young Luftwaffe officer had only told his wingman that he knew how to tame whimsical ladies, he would see. For the moment, his dear Lola was showing no signs of unruly temperament and the engines emitted a comforting song of raw power, a sound which sent an exhilarating shiver running down Rolf's spine. He had always loved wild, unpredictable things, situations where you could not be quite sure of your own survival, and sitting in the cockpit of the German fighter certainly gave him the opportunity enjoy that intoxicating feeling of living one's life to the fullest.
The sun was lazily creeping up from behind the horizon and the early sunshine made the sides of the two other fighters glisten briefly. The two Messerschmitts were accompanying the bulkier Junkers Ju 52 on a short supply flight and Rolf would end up being stationed at their destination with his wingman for the time being. The man's steel-gray eyes narrowed slightly as they swiveled over the several gauges and, inevitably, also over the photograph of a young, blonde girl, the picture attached to the window frame. For some reason the thought of actually marrying Elsa seemed very foreign to him and for a moment he wondered why he had even bothered keeping the girl's picture in his fighter. Everyone else seemed to be doing so and maybe he liked treating Elsa like a trophy, she was certainly nothing to be shamed off. She had pretty features, her appearance dominated by her large blue eyes and pale skin, making her seem almost doleful as she stared at Rolf from the photograph. Rolf gave the picture an irritated snort and resisted the urge to rip the picture from it's place and throw it on the floor. They were engaged, but it did not seem as if Rolf would be seeing her in a good while, yet.
Maybe it was for the best, he would have hardly found anything intelligent to say to her and besides, he had already met a much more interesting girl. "Ist das nicht richtig, Lola?" the man asked and his serious expression vanished as he laughed heartily at his own words. He had no time to worry over a silly girl such as Elsa, right now. He was happy to do some actual piloting for a change, even if it was only for the duration of a boring little escort mission. He had found himself staying behind quite a lot lately, reduced into organizing missions and training fresh recruits, both things which he considered more than irksome. He found himself growing more irritable and unpredictable when he could not dedicate his mind and time to something interesting and many of the young recruits had learned to either fear or hate the young Luftwaffe officer. He did not respond well to stupidity or foolish questions and would often make careless flight candidates suffer due to just such things. He had the curious and intimidating habit of arriving on the airfield on his noisy motorcycle and this little quirk of his had earned him both admiration and spite. His wingman, Kronberg, had gotten as used to his superior's mood swings as one possibly could and he knew that it was better to just sit and wait until the worst spout of von Jäger's anger had passed. He would soon enough go back to being the more relaxed and merrier Rolf, a personality which he much more preferred.
Right now the Luftwaffe officer was yawning and blinking his eyes to wake up from his lazy stupor. He had left in a hurry and had not had time to enjoy a proper breakfast - he quite felt that the morning should always begin with a hot cup of coffee. Satisfying and exhilarating as flying was to him, this particular morning his eyelids felt increasingly heavy. Maybe it was just due to the fact that they were not expecting any trouble and the escort was mostly just a matter of policy and practice, but they were also making their journey to the new base more useful this way. It wasn't going to be a long flight, the effective range of the Messerschmitt Bf 109 was not very long, anyway, so Rolf could expect to have a hot cup of coffee in his hands soon enough. The cockpit of the fighter gave little room for stretching around, but on the other hand he liked the feeling of being one with his plane, as if the cold metallic raptor was a continuation of him in some way.
The young man's tired eyes moved, almost accidentally, to glance to his left side and he froze in his seat for a moment. He had detected the brief glint of something from the corner of his eye and knew quite well that it was not anyone from his convoy. The thin veil of clouds prevented him from identifying the source of the brief flash of light and for a moment Rolf thought that his tired eyes had deceived him. He was just about to turn his gaze away and forget the vision as being nothing more than a figment of his imagination, when the three enemy fighters, flying lower than the Germans, appeared from the clouds again. Rolf raised his eyebrows in sheer surprise and tried to think quickly. He glanced behind at his wingman and made the wings of his Messerschmitt bob from side to side in a small, abrubt movement. Rolf switched his radio on, already feeling the exhilarating rush of adrenaline pumping into his veins at the thought of a battle. "Schakal, Richter hier. Komm in, Schakal," the man called into his radio, feverishly waiting for an answer. It appeared as if the enemy fighters had not spotted them, not yet, which was a small miracle, to put it lightly. Most of the time the Allies could observe the movements of the Germans much more efficiently than they could detect theirs, but obviously this was not the case right now. Maybe the clouds had prevented them both from seeing each other for a good while now, but the Germans had been lucky enough to fly higher, with the sun behind their backs. He could not be sure how long the situation would stay that way before the tables turned, he would have to make a decision quickly. Only a few seconds passed before the radio crackled with Kronberg's answer, although for Rolf it seemed as if an entire minute had passed. "Schakal hier. Ich entdeckte sie gerade auch. Drei Spitfire, zehn Uhr."
Rolf scanned the skies, making sure to glance behind him and to bank his fighter slightly to see if he could spot any more enemies, but apart from their small convoy and the three enemy fighters, the sky seemed clear. Rolf's heart was racing wildly and he considered the situation for a moment. They could have just continued on their way, changing their course slightly to make sure that they would remain unspotted by the Allies. But they could, of course, break from the formation and attack the Spitfires, making Rolf and his wingman the heroes of the day. They would not be only bringing the Junkers safely to it's destination, but they would be netting in three kills, all thanks to the infamous Rolf Jäger's infallible flying skills, boundless courage and fast wit. The visions of glorious battle and the inevitable fame and admiration that would follow, seemed vivid inside Rolf's head and he found himself smiling at the thought. Shooting down enemies was not in their mission description, unless it was to defend the transport, but Rolf had already grown far too attached to the idea of playing a big damn hero. To him, it was quite clear what they were to do. "Richtig, Schakal. Wir angreifen sie, mach dich bereit. Und Versuch, mit mir dieses Mal Schritt zu halten, Herrschaft nochmal," Rolf added with a grin, his tone more than sufficiently arrogant to make Kronberg's blood boil, just enough to provoke the proper state of mind for a battle.
"Verstanden, Richter. Ich werde auf Ihnen wie ein Floh auf einem Hund sein." Kronberg answered and Rolf laughed at his piqued tone of voice, surely the man would be doing his best to prove Rolf wrong. "Rabe, behalten Sie Ihren Kurs, wir angreifen den feindlich. Schakal, auf mir, los geht's!" The engine emitted an exhilarating roar as the Messerschmitt banked away from the transport ship, the other fighter following behind in a skillfull imitation of the first one. The Messerschmitts were barreling towards their yet unsuspecting enemies, efficient and deadly, like two vicious birds of prey. Fame and glory were waiting, ripe for the taking. Rolf Jäger was not going to miss out of the opportunity.
Translations:
"Ist das nicht richtig, Lola?"
"Isn't that right, Lola?"
"Schakal, Richter hier. Komm in, Schakal."
"Schakal, Richter here. Come in, Schakal."
"Schakal hier. Ich entdeckte sie gerade auch. Drei Spitfire, zehn Uhr."
"Schakal here. I just spotted them too. Three Spitfires, ten o'clock."
"Richtig, Schakal. Wir angreifen sie, mach dich bereit. Und Versuch, mit mir dieses Mal Schritt zu halten, Herrschaft nochmal."
"Correct, Schakal. We are engaging them, get ready. And try to keep up with me this time, for heaven's sake."
"Verstanden, Richter. Ich werde auf Ihnen wie ein Floh auf einem Hund sein."
"Roger that, Richter. I'll be on you like a flea on a dog."
"Rabe, behalten Sie Ihren Kurs, wir angreifen den feindlich. Schakal, auf mir, los geht's!"
"Rabe, retain your course, we are engaging the enemy. Schakal, on me, here we go!"
Account Name: rolfjager (same e-mail as Dieter's other accounts)
Name: Rolf Jäger
Nationality: German
What Army will Your Character Serve Beneath?
Luftwaffe
Character History:
The Freiherr and Freifrau von Jäger, baron and baroness, respectively, had taken care of the lands and keeping up order in the town of Donzdorf, Stuttgart for as long as the locals could hope to remember. The gently sloping hills and green valleys provided ample grazing grounds for various livestock and farming, making the small town prosperous enough. Donzdorf was known for it's closely knit community, where everyone was expected to do their part in the daily toils of small town life. Many of the people were used to the old customs and habits that had dominated their lives since the days of the old and in some way, the town seemed to be still living in the past. Roland von Jäger owned a beautiful old German castle at the northern part of the town, where he lived with his wife, Liesel. The castle had previously belonged to a count, who's bloodline slowly withered away and the castle was then sold to the Jägers. Freiherr von Jäger owned much of the land surrounding the castle and most of his property around the proud old building was dedicated to his greatest passion, that of breeding horses. By trade he was a judge and he had worked at a court in Stuttgart for much of his younger years. The man had also served in the German cavalry during the Great War and after taking part in various battles, had attained the rank of Rittmeister. He was known for his strict and efficient manner of doing things and also of his quick wit when it came to commanding his troops, but he was also considered a very sensible man who always thought both of his soldiers and their horses. As the Great War ended in Germany's defeat, Freiherr von Jäger retreated back to the quiet town life, directing all of his attention to taking care of his lands and of course, his precious stock of Holsteiner horses. It seemed like an ideal enough an image, but something was, of course, sorely missing. The Freiherr had no heir and for some reason he and his wife had been unable to produce any offspring. This weighed heavily on Roland's mind and he was certain that he would be left without children, as if some strange curse was hanging over him.
It was easy to understand how overjoyed the man was when he found out that his precious Liesel was finally pregnant. The man made sure that Liesel was kept safe when she was expecting and the poor woman could hardly step out of her home without having her husband or the servants rushing in to make sure that nothing happened to her. When the moment of childbirth got closer, Roland hired a doctor and gave him an apartment very near to the castle, just to have professional help at hand when the child was ready to enter the world. So, on one quite cold, starry night in February, Rolf von Jäger was brought to the world with much clamor and reveling as the Freiherr made sure that the whole town knew he now had a son to inherit his lands and properties after the Freiherr himself would be gone. The sandy-haired and grey-eyed boy was christened after his grand-father and, being the only child of the couple, Rolf was immediately placed under strict guard. He was schooled at home and due to not having any siblings, spent much of his time alone.
It wasn't until later, at the age of six, when Rolf met some of the children living in the town and, as children tend to do, quickly befriended them. They used to play in the woods at the edge of the town and everything seemed very blissful to Rolf during those carefree days. His parents worried after their precious son, but he would always find new ways of escaping from his nanny to join the other children in their various games. Maybe due to being coddled and guarded so closely much of his life, Rolf had grown to become a very adventurous and wild boy, as if all the years of solitude had only caused his energy to bottle up and now he had to constantly seek new ways of releasing it. Things did not stay quite so blissful for very long. On one seemingly innocent day things took a very drastic change - much to little Rolf's dismay. The children had now found out that Rolf was no other than the precious son of Freiherr von Jäger and their attitude towards the small light-haired boy changed. They were more careful, almost fearful in his company, for their parents had told them to be vary around this particular child and to treat him with care and respect. The town people had grown used to treating the Jägers with respect and caution and to a lot of them, their very livelihood depended on the Freiherr and his lands. They knew that should anything happen to the young Jäger, the Freiherr would fly into a fit of rage and the people of Donzdorf would surely end up suffering for it. Rolf, despite his young age, naturally noticed the change in his playmates and felt baffled by it. He could not understand what was happening and it made him feel frustrated and angry. The boy found his friends shying away from him - it was easier to continue having rambunctious and carefree games when Rolf was not around.
Rolf sought out his friends and angrily commanded them to "go back to being normal". He did not want to go back to playing all alone and to being herded by his dreadfully boring nanny. The other children, in their childish fear, tried their best to comply, dreading the impending beating from their parents were they to fail in their rather confusing task. Rolf soon found out that his former friends were now more like his pawns and he could order them around at whim. He used this new ability to full extent, forcing the other children into doing silly and often dangerous tasks, just for his own amusement. He found that his new position as leader of the other children pleased him immensely and he did not realize just what kind of an effect his childish commands had on the other children. The poor kids themselves did not know what else to do but to obey; they were sure that if they complained about Rolf to their parents, they would be punished for not being able to follow their orders. This is, of course, where something went very wrong inside young Rolf's head - he started considering other people as being lesser than him, as something he could merely use for his own amusement and in this sense, his world view became curiously twisted at a very young age.
As the children grew older, their childish games slowly came to an end and their time was occupied by school, Rolf continuing his studies at home. He was dearly loved by his parents and although the Freiherr could hardly deny anything from his son, they made sure that the young Jäger got a proper education. In addition to learning about history, languages, politics and music, he was well-groomed in etiquette and social graces, from dancing to knowing the purpose and proper order of using the various plates, glasses and utensils at a dinner table. Rolf did not enjoy these boring lectures at all, but when his source of friends dwindled, he tried to find some other means of entertainment. Of course, his father being a renowned breeder of horses, Rolf learned to ride at a very young age and found himself spending a lot of time at the stables whenever he could. At the age of 12, and after some amount of whining and begging, Rolf was given his own horse by his father. The boy named the dark bay mare Lotti and with his father's careful instruction, proceeded to train the young horse, learning quite a lot about horsemanship in the process. The two became inseparable and young Rolf was often seen galloping on the fields surrounding Donzdorf on the back of his dear Lotti. Scarcely having any friends and his spirit smothered by the constant schooling and guarding, the boy found immense joy in leaving the dusty mansion behind and feeling the wind in his sandy hair as Lotti carried him over the landscape, fast as the wind herself. He also frequently brought the horse with him on hunting trips, an activity which Rolf found himself greatly enjoying.
The Freiherr was of course slightly worried that the adventures of young Rolf and Lotti would end up badly and he certainly gained more than his normal share of gray hairs as he envisioned the mare returning home, riderless. A careless and fiery spirit, it didn't take too long until Rolf had his first riding accident and Roland's worst nightmare inevitably came true. While jumping obstacles, Lotti stumbled and Rolf found himself flying over the mare's head, landing on the sandy field and feeling a sudden, sharp pain in his left arm. Rolf's arm broken in two places and the doctor ordered him to rest properly, while Rolf's horrified father went to the extreme measure of firing the riding instructor in a blind fit of horror and rage. Rolf actually felt quite proud of being properly injured, but soon came to the dreadful realization that having a broken arm only meant that he was reduced to nearly endless weeks of staying indoors and studying.
Still, no matter how much Roland tried to suppress his son's adventurous spirit, Rolf was back in Lotti's saddle as soon as the doctor allowed it. Numerous bruises and scrapes followed suite, but as if by some foolish luck the boy was spared from any worse injuries. It was soon after this when Rolf's previously almost dormant spirit of maliciousness raised it's head once again. One fine June afternoon Rolf walked inside the stables to take Lotti out for a brief walk and he found the mare's saddle lying in the middle of the stable corridor, dirty and untended. The guilty party could of course be no other than the young stable boy from the town, hired to tend to the horses and their equipment just a few weeks earlier. Enraged, Rolf snatched a long and vicious riding whip from the wall, seeking the boy out and proceeding to whip him with it, feeling little remorse as the boy cried and pleaded for mercy, trying to shield himself the best he could. Who knows what might have happened to the boy if the stable master had not intervened, grabbing Rolf's arm and forcing him to stop. Rolf survived the incident with little consequences and had to only suffer a long and serious lecture given to him by his father. Roland von Jäger had always been a fair and righteous man, but his son had apparently failed to inherit any of these qualities. The stable boy still stayed in the Freiherr's service and he did not complain about the beating in any way - he only made sure to steer clear off Rolf's path and to keep his mare's gear in pristine condition.
When it came to Rolf's choices in career, Freiherr von Jäger promptly put his foot down and told his son that he would study law. Rolf, who had now learned the ways of manipulating his parents quite skillfully to get what he wanted, soon found that in this particular matter he could not sway his father's mind. He was geared towards going to law school in Heidelberg and in 1934 he left the familiar scenery of Donzdorf and settled into living in Heidelberg. His home town was still not very far away and he visited home as often as he could, to see how his parents were doing and of course, to greet Lotti. Liesel was already on the lookout for suitable brides for Rolf and she refused to listen to any complaints her son might have had. A proper marriage was expected from the son of a Freiherr and Rolf had to sit through several meetings with young women his mother had deemed suitable for him. Rolf found all the women awfully boring and more than a few times, embarrassed his parents by stating his somewhat rude opinions out loud. Rolf knew quite well how to behave like a gentleman and how to show proper manners, but he simply did not care to peruse this knowledge when it came to these awkward social situations. He knew that if he acted like a buffoon, he would not find a wife and wouldn't have to get married, it was really as simple as that. On many occasions, he would completely embarrass his parents and blurt out something stupid or sneak away from the scene. Understandably, marriage did not seem very imminent in Rolf's future and he dedicated most of his time to studies and as the Nazi party grew in power, also in politics. His arrogant and brash behaviour made the other students shy away from him and he did not make too many friends. He had the habit of bragging lavishly and treating others as if they were lesser than him. On the other hand, the young Jäger could appear very meek and amiable, but this was only when he wanted to use someone to his own advantage. He had learned the art of manipulating people from swaying his parents minds and, brash as he might have been, also knew when it was better to show proper manners and to constrain his fiery nature. Often it was hard to tell what was going on inside the mind of the sandy-haired young lawyer and his mood could change very quickly, especially when provoked. A constant fire was burning inside him, a lust for fame and adventure, a fire that one day would surely consume the man.
Like many of his friends had done, Rolf aspired to join the National Socialist party in the mid-thirties. The ideas of superiority and building a greater, better Germany, appealed to the young Jäger. He joined the Nazi party in 1935 and eagerly absorbed the propaganda that seemed to engulf almost every aspect of his life. Schools were monitored closely by the Nazi officials and any teacher not deemed fitting to educate the minds of the German youth were removed from their posts. Previously Rolf had not really had strong opinions regarding Jews, but the writings concerning the racial superiority of the Aryan people made him quite assured that the Jews could then only be considered lesser people. The passionate speeches of Adolf Hitler struck a chord with Rolf and even though he previously had not felt very interested in politics, he was certain to catch all the speeches given by Herr Hitler.
In the tumultuous changes which the Führer issued upon the German nation, military forces were being built and prepared. Being mostly reduced to the occasional spot of sports and partying, Rolf was on the lookout for new ways of getting that brief spot of adrenaline high. With his father's gracious assistance, he acquired a motorcycle and was a common sight near the university grounds on the black BMW R32, whooping and laughing as he rode on at breakneck-speeds. This of course, got him into trouble more than once, but it did not dampen his fun for too long. After the motorcycling became slightly boring, he was introduced to Nationalsozialistisches Fliegerkorps, a paramilitary organization which introduced young men to piloting. Rolf was practically bursting with enthusiasm as he was familiarized to the basics of flight. Starting off with gliders, the young man was exhilarated with the freedom and excitement of flying. Rolf's father had naturally heard of his son's newest endeavors and tried to ban such dangerous activities from his son, but Rolf only distanced himself from his family in rebellion. In the end, there was little Roland could do to sway his son from this fresh aspiration.
In direct violation of the Treaty of Versailles, the new Luftwaffe was unveiled in 1935 and Rolf, of course, was teetering over two important paths he could take. He had already advanced in his law studies in Heidelberg and was expected to become a lawyer and ultimately, a judge like his father. He had already learned that being a lawyer could offer interesting challenges and excitement in it's own way, but he had always been a fan of more physical ways of obtaining his precious adrenaline rushes. He continued practicing piloting with the National Socialist Flyers Corps, but stayed in the university to finish his law studies. He had also started seeing a young, slender girl called Elsa, surprisingly one recommended to him by his mother, and he had taken a liking to the blonde, blue-eyed female. She was shy and giggled nervously whenever Rolf was around, not quite sure of how to adjust to the man's quickly changing moods. Rolf could talk in a perfectly happy voice, a big grin on his face and say absolutely horrific things about the Jews and "lesser races", as they were called. He could also go from being relaxed and chipper to shouting at someone in anger, especially if they dared to undermine his authority or challenge him in any way. He was like living fire, very hard to predict, but he also had the habit of taking his tasks very seriously and passionately. Whenever Rolf was in the right state of mind, he could be a very considerate and polite man and Elsa did not know what would have happened where she to reject the young baron. They continued having a rather obscure and tumultuous relationship much of the time Rolf studied law in Heidelberg.
After Rolf graduated from university, he found himself work quite easily by utilizing his family relations. His employers found Rolf a dedicated and hard-working lawyer, quick to react to changing situations, but also quite clearly aspiring for something else other than sitting endless hours in a courtroom. His settling into the law career made his parents happy and Roland was sure that his son would soon forget about the silly piloting business and calm down, putting his search for excitement on the account of youthful enthusiasm. The young Jäger even soon got engaged to his now long-time girlfriend, Elsa, and things seemed to be going quite according to the wishes of his parents.
The situation was changed abruptly as the impending war cast it's shadow over Germany. It was clear that the country was getting ready for something big and the amount of fighters in Luftwaffe grew from just over seventy aircraft to 2700 over a very short period of time. Rolf set aside his work as a lawyer to join the German army, where he received the basic training of a soldier. He did not find it easy to take orders, but was determined to suffer through the humiliating phase and one day, be the one giving out the orders instead. As if this had not been enough, much to his father's dismay, Rolf signed in for service in the Luftwaffe in 1937. Roland was sure that this would end up with his only son's death and then there would not be anybody left to inherit the family property. The Freiherr and his wife had certainly tried to produce more children after Rolf was born, but it had only resulted in two miscarriages. It seemed as if Rolf would remain the only child of the Jäger-family. When Rolf started his proper training to become a pilot in Luftwaffe, his father was already thinking of means to make sure that his son would stay safely on the ground, maybe instructing future pilots and doing other things that might be considered safe.
Rolf did not possess any particular or extraordinary talent for flying, but his enthusiasm and the way in which he absorbed information did make up to it in a way. He had already learned the basics of piloting in NSFK and many of the organization's members had actually transferred straight to the ranks of Luftwaffe. The instructors recognized Rolf's zest and his background as a loyal National Socialist helped him quite a lot - this way the Luftwaffe had a strong base of Nazi ideologies, which was quite different from the other branches of German military. He became a full-fledged pilot in 1938 and much to his dismay, for some reason found himself staying on the ground most of the time. It wasn't until 1939 when he had his first chance to make use of his training as the Luftwaffe took to the skies, attacking Poland with vicious efficiency. Rolf Jäger was among the attacking forces and even though they were naturally met with little if any resistance, the sheer sensation of flying and seeing the other planes coordinate the attacks in perfect unison with others made the blood pump wilder in his veins. Surely he was made for the excitement of flying and not spending his time among various books and papers, dedicating his life to something as dry and boring as state law? Rolf Jäger, now an officer of the Luftwaffe, soon became known for his quick and quite unpredictable method of doing things and for Rolf himself, the road to adventure and fame seemed to finally lay open before him.
Military Rank: Hauptmann, if that is possible. We have lost one Hauptmann from Axis just recently and I hope that my application proves that I have put in some serious time and effort writing it. If Hauptmann requires a longer sample, let me know and I will improve the application accordingly.
Writing Sample:
The powerful, steady rumble of the Daimler-Benz V12 engine made Rolf Jäger feel slightly drowsy inside the cockpit of his Messerschmitt, one he had affectionally named Lola after a character portrayed in a movie by the lovely Marlene Dietrich. He had always figured that all machines needed to have a female name, for they had the habit of effectively luring men in and would also often unexplainedly break down, causing much headache to men. His ever trustworthy wingman, Hauptfeldwebel Kronberg, had chortled at Rolf's choice of name, saying that he was only going to bring trouble upon himself, calling the fighter such a fickle name. The young Luftwaffe officer had only told his wingman that he knew how to tame whimsical ladies, he would see. For the moment, his dear Lola was showing no signs of unruly temperament and the engines emitted a comforting song of raw power, a sound which sent an exhilarating shiver running down Rolf's spine. He had always loved wild, unpredictable things, situations where you could not be quite sure of your own survival, and sitting in the cockpit of the German fighter certainly gave him the opportunity enjoy that intoxicating feeling of living one's life to the fullest.
The sun was lazily creeping up from behind the horizon and the early sunshine made the sides of the two other fighters glisten briefly. The two Messerschmitts were accompanying the bulkier Junkers Ju 52 on a short supply flight and Rolf would end up being stationed at their destination with his wingman for the time being. The man's steel-gray eyes narrowed slightly as they swiveled over the several gauges and, inevitably, also over the photograph of a young, blonde girl, the picture attached to the window frame. For some reason the thought of actually marrying Elsa seemed very foreign to him and for a moment he wondered why he had even bothered keeping the girl's picture in his fighter. Everyone else seemed to be doing so and maybe he liked treating Elsa like a trophy, she was certainly nothing to be shamed off. She had pretty features, her appearance dominated by her large blue eyes and pale skin, making her seem almost doleful as she stared at Rolf from the photograph. Rolf gave the picture an irritated snort and resisted the urge to rip the picture from it's place and throw it on the floor. They were engaged, but it did not seem as if Rolf would be seeing her in a good while, yet.
Maybe it was for the best, he would have hardly found anything intelligent to say to her and besides, he had already met a much more interesting girl. "Ist das nicht richtig, Lola?" the man asked and his serious expression vanished as he laughed heartily at his own words. He had no time to worry over a silly girl such as Elsa, right now. He was happy to do some actual piloting for a change, even if it was only for the duration of a boring little escort mission. He had found himself staying behind quite a lot lately, reduced into organizing missions and training fresh recruits, both things which he considered more than irksome. He found himself growing more irritable and unpredictable when he could not dedicate his mind and time to something interesting and many of the young recruits had learned to either fear or hate the young Luftwaffe officer. He did not respond well to stupidity or foolish questions and would often make careless flight candidates suffer due to just such things. He had the curious and intimidating habit of arriving on the airfield on his noisy motorcycle and this little quirk of his had earned him both admiration and spite. His wingman, Kronberg, had gotten as used to his superior's mood swings as one possibly could and he knew that it was better to just sit and wait until the worst spout of von Jäger's anger had passed. He would soon enough go back to being the more relaxed and merrier Rolf, a personality which he much more preferred.
Right now the Luftwaffe officer was yawning and blinking his eyes to wake up from his lazy stupor. He had left in a hurry and had not had time to enjoy a proper breakfast - he quite felt that the morning should always begin with a hot cup of coffee. Satisfying and exhilarating as flying was to him, this particular morning his eyelids felt increasingly heavy. Maybe it was just due to the fact that they were not expecting any trouble and the escort was mostly just a matter of policy and practice, but they were also making their journey to the new base more useful this way. It wasn't going to be a long flight, the effective range of the Messerschmitt Bf 109 was not very long, anyway, so Rolf could expect to have a hot cup of coffee in his hands soon enough. The cockpit of the fighter gave little room for stretching around, but on the other hand he liked the feeling of being one with his plane, as if the cold metallic raptor was a continuation of him in some way.
The young man's tired eyes moved, almost accidentally, to glance to his left side and he froze in his seat for a moment. He had detected the brief glint of something from the corner of his eye and knew quite well that it was not anyone from his convoy. The thin veil of clouds prevented him from identifying the source of the brief flash of light and for a moment Rolf thought that his tired eyes had deceived him. He was just about to turn his gaze away and forget the vision as being nothing more than a figment of his imagination, when the three enemy fighters, flying lower than the Germans, appeared from the clouds again. Rolf raised his eyebrows in sheer surprise and tried to think quickly. He glanced behind at his wingman and made the wings of his Messerschmitt bob from side to side in a small, abrubt movement. Rolf switched his radio on, already feeling the exhilarating rush of adrenaline pumping into his veins at the thought of a battle. "Schakal, Richter hier. Komm in, Schakal," the man called into his radio, feverishly waiting for an answer. It appeared as if the enemy fighters had not spotted them, not yet, which was a small miracle, to put it lightly. Most of the time the Allies could observe the movements of the Germans much more efficiently than they could detect theirs, but obviously this was not the case right now. Maybe the clouds had prevented them both from seeing each other for a good while now, but the Germans had been lucky enough to fly higher, with the sun behind their backs. He could not be sure how long the situation would stay that way before the tables turned, he would have to make a decision quickly. Only a few seconds passed before the radio crackled with Kronberg's answer, although for Rolf it seemed as if an entire minute had passed. "Schakal hier. Ich entdeckte sie gerade auch. Drei Spitfire, zehn Uhr."
Rolf scanned the skies, making sure to glance behind him and to bank his fighter slightly to see if he could spot any more enemies, but apart from their small convoy and the three enemy fighters, the sky seemed clear. Rolf's heart was racing wildly and he considered the situation for a moment. They could have just continued on their way, changing their course slightly to make sure that they would remain unspotted by the Allies. But they could, of course, break from the formation and attack the Spitfires, making Rolf and his wingman the heroes of the day. They would not be only bringing the Junkers safely to it's destination, but they would be netting in three kills, all thanks to the infamous Rolf Jäger's infallible flying skills, boundless courage and fast wit. The visions of glorious battle and the inevitable fame and admiration that would follow, seemed vivid inside Rolf's head and he found himself smiling at the thought. Shooting down enemies was not in their mission description, unless it was to defend the transport, but Rolf had already grown far too attached to the idea of playing a big damn hero. To him, it was quite clear what they were to do. "Richtig, Schakal. Wir angreifen sie, mach dich bereit. Und Versuch, mit mir dieses Mal Schritt zu halten, Herrschaft nochmal," Rolf added with a grin, his tone more than sufficiently arrogant to make Kronberg's blood boil, just enough to provoke the proper state of mind for a battle.
"Verstanden, Richter. Ich werde auf Ihnen wie ein Floh auf einem Hund sein." Kronberg answered and Rolf laughed at his piqued tone of voice, surely the man would be doing his best to prove Rolf wrong. "Rabe, behalten Sie Ihren Kurs, wir angreifen den feindlich. Schakal, auf mir, los geht's!" The engine emitted an exhilarating roar as the Messerschmitt banked away from the transport ship, the other fighter following behind in a skillfull imitation of the first one. The Messerschmitts were barreling towards their yet unsuspecting enemies, efficient and deadly, like two vicious birds of prey. Fame and glory were waiting, ripe for the taking. Rolf Jäger was not going to miss out of the opportunity.
Translations:
"Ist das nicht richtig, Lola?"
"Isn't that right, Lola?"
"Schakal, Richter hier. Komm in, Schakal."
"Schakal, Richter here. Come in, Schakal."
"Schakal hier. Ich entdeckte sie gerade auch. Drei Spitfire, zehn Uhr."
"Schakal here. I just spotted them too. Three Spitfires, ten o'clock."
"Richtig, Schakal. Wir angreifen sie, mach dich bereit. Und Versuch, mit mir dieses Mal Schritt zu halten, Herrschaft nochmal."
"Correct, Schakal. We are engaging them, get ready. And try to keep up with me this time, for heaven's sake."
"Verstanden, Richter. Ich werde auf Ihnen wie ein Floh auf einem Hund sein."
"Roger that, Richter. I'll be on you like a flea on a dog."
"Rabe, behalten Sie Ihren Kurs, wir angreifen den feindlich. Schakal, auf mir, los geht's!"
"Rabe, retain your course, we are engaging the enemy. Schakal, on me, here we go!"
