Post by Gerry on Mar 12, 2010 1:05:56 GMT
Accepted at the rank of Obergefreiter.
-JT
Account E-Mail: ‘Tis Gerhardt.
Name: Lucius Pilate Hinderschied
Nationality: Franco-German
What Army will Your Character Serve Beneath? Waffen-SS
Character History:
Lucius Pilate Hinderschied was born in Mainz, French Rhineland, in the year 1920, to Sigmund and Clementine Hinderschied. Sigmund was a veteran of the First World War, where he had served as an infantry Lieutenant in the Reichsheer. Sigmund had fought bravely in the trenches of Verdun and the Marne, returning a decorated junior officer and a highly respected member of the community. After the German Empire’s defeat the Allied powers drew up the Treaty of Versailles, giving all lands around the Rhine River to France, among other humiliating terms. Mainz, Sigmund’s hometown, was seized by the greedy French. Citizens of Rhineland were forced to stay within French limits, even though most of them were full-blooded Germans.
Sigmund tried to live normally after the occupation, even though living under the oppressive French was quite strenuous. The Franks tried to portray themselves as saviors, bringing economic stability to Rhineland while the rest of Germany was wallowing in poverty. But in reality, French money was just a little bit less inflated than the rest of the world. The former German officer married Clementine La Plume, a pretty French girl from Burgundy. The couple was together for only one year before Clementine became pregnant, giving birth to young Lucius when she was only nineteen years of age. Unknown to Clementine, Sigmund gave their child the middle name Pilate because of his dislike for the Christian religion, giving their son the name of the Roman governor who supposedly killed Jesus Christ.
Lucius did well in school, building up his language and history skills, but somewhat lacking in arithmetic. His young mind was shaped into a soldier’s, his father taking no backtalk and told Lucius that following orders from his elders and superiors was to be the topmost priority, above even things as enjoyment and love. Unfortunately, this dedication to law and order also managed to expunge most of the soldier’s humor and creativity, and he lacked in subjects such as art and music. As a teenager Lucius was required to learn how to play the violin, harp, or piano. He tried all of the instruments but he could not manage to make anything come out of them that sounded tolerable, let alone pleasurable.
Life under French rule kindled a hate for his people’s oppressors. Even though his mother was French, he considered her the only half-decent thing to come out of the accursed country that neighbored Germany. He considered himself a complete German, and wished to forget the French blood that ran through his veins. Meanwhile, he became a lover of the National Socialist Party. In 1935, a 15 year old Lucius attended a Nazi rally in nearby Aachen, waving a swastika flag and cheering as French soldiers tried to restrain the pulsating crowd. Only a month after the rally both his mother was killed in an automobile accident, totaling the Volkswagen they had paid many months’ wages for and taking a beloved mother away from her son.
When Germany remilitarized Rhineland in 1936 it was a grand event for the Hinderschieds. The French retreated without a fight and the Germans laughed at their fleeing troops, calling them cowards and weaklings. Lucius was 16 at the time of remilitarization, and had to wait two years before he could formally enlist in the German military. In this age gap he joined Hitler Youth, becoming a leader of a small squad of boys, leading them on hiking trips, river fording, and junior weapons training.
Lucius Pilate Hinderschied was recruited by the Waffen-SS agency in Mainz on September 24, 1938 and was sent to a training camp in the wilderness outside of Cologne, Germany in early December. Upon arrival he was stripped, his body examined, and his background searched back to the 17th century for any “undesirable” mixes, and when none was found, he was issued a recruit’s grey wool uniform, helmet, and Karbiner 98k. He was put under a grueling training process that ran through the wickedly cold winter, mild spring, and blistering hot summer. Lucius was seen as a prime German soldier; young, fast, ruthless and tough. He excelled during arms training, an average shot with a rifle and quick at reloading/carrying MG34/42’s. But his real strength came with close-quarters combat, where he proved his well-muscled arms could stab a knife as well as any senior NCO. While most other soldiers graduated at SS-Schutze, Lucius and a few other ideal students received the title of SS-Oberschutze.
During the invasion of Poland Lucius remained as a reserve, but was sent to the front when Germany invaded France during the summer of 1940. During the invasion Lucius fought with zealous fervor, conquering his family’s long-time oppressors. While serving throughout the war Lucius received various promotions.
Military Rank: Please issue one as you see fit.
Writing Sample:
Scheiße...
That was the only thing Lucius Hinderschied could mutter as he looked at the four corpses in front of him, their flesh still warm and blood still oozing out of the rips and tears in their uniforms where French and British bullets had pierced them. Lucius was the only one left alive, and was not exactly sure why he had been spared. Had the enemy not seen him? The shots had come from the opposite end of the field, their rifles concealed in the twisted, gnarled roots where yellowed, knee-high grass met the woodland. When the shots rang out he had dropped to the ground, his grey-green uniform camouflaged by the stalks of grass. Who had been hit first? Had it been Knud, the lanky Danish volunteer with a crooked nose? Or Sergeant Staub, the loudmouth Berliner? It didn’t matter now, they were both dead, Knud from a bullet to the back of the head and Staub to a hail of light machine gun fire. But there was Lucius, completely unhurt by the sporadic fire.
The young Waffen-SS soldier adjusted the steel brim of his helmet before making an attempt to crawl over to the body of Staub to retrieve his MP-40. Lucius lay prone, clutching his K98 in both extended hands, moving it side to side to clear a path through the grass before lurching his body forward. He reached Staub in less than a minute, the corpse already starting to smell in the hot French sun. His belly was bloated and his tongue hung out obtusely, making Hinderschied halt for a moment before working the metal weapon out of the dead man’s hands. He had to use his bayonet to work free the ammunition magazines, replacing them onto his belt. He decided to keep his K98k along the MP-40, for the bolt-action had a much longer range and a higher caliber than the sub-machine gun, which could make it useful for shots across the long, flat field. The extra weight would probably be safer than having to make potshots 100 yards away with a sub-machinegun.
Lucius slung the K98k over his shoulder and pulled back the bolt on Staub’s weapon after ramming a fresh magazine home. Hinderschied would try to make it over to a farmhouse in the corner of the property, and he would try to slowly move in a crouch. His jackboots plodded softly across the earth, only his steel blue eyes and helmet sticking out above the grass. As he made his way to the farmhouse, the soldier kept glancing behind him, watching for any sign of the damn British and French who had killed the rest of his squad.
When he was within 20 yards of the farmhouse Lucius stood up and hunched over, sprinting for the farmhouse. He did not let his guard down until he was at its door. He caught his breath for a second before smashing his boot into the weak farmhouse door. It gave in easily under the pressure and Lucius fired a quick burst from his MP40 around the farmhouse’s single downstairs room, and was thrilled to find that no Frenchman or tea-drinkers were residing in the house. He spun around quickly and ran up the stairs, finding that upper floor was also clear. He let a sigh of relief escape his lips, but that relaxation was short lived…
“We really flagged down these damn Jerries!” an excited voice said from where Lucius had been only a few minutes before. He cursed under his breath, taking the Kar98 off of his back and setting the MP40 down on the floor. Lucius made his way to the upstairs window, looking down on the four British soldiers staring at the bodies of his comrades. Lucius rested the barrel of his Kar98k on the window’s frame and aimed down the ironsights and the soldier who had made the comment about killing Staub, Knud, and the rest. “Für mein Führer..” Lucius whispered as he pulled the trigger.
-JT
Account E-Mail: ‘Tis Gerhardt.
Name: Lucius Pilate Hinderschied
Nationality: Franco-German
What Army will Your Character Serve Beneath? Waffen-SS
Character History:
Lucius Pilate Hinderschied was born in Mainz, French Rhineland, in the year 1920, to Sigmund and Clementine Hinderschied. Sigmund was a veteran of the First World War, where he had served as an infantry Lieutenant in the Reichsheer. Sigmund had fought bravely in the trenches of Verdun and the Marne, returning a decorated junior officer and a highly respected member of the community. After the German Empire’s defeat the Allied powers drew up the Treaty of Versailles, giving all lands around the Rhine River to France, among other humiliating terms. Mainz, Sigmund’s hometown, was seized by the greedy French. Citizens of Rhineland were forced to stay within French limits, even though most of them were full-blooded Germans.
Sigmund tried to live normally after the occupation, even though living under the oppressive French was quite strenuous. The Franks tried to portray themselves as saviors, bringing economic stability to Rhineland while the rest of Germany was wallowing in poverty. But in reality, French money was just a little bit less inflated than the rest of the world. The former German officer married Clementine La Plume, a pretty French girl from Burgundy. The couple was together for only one year before Clementine became pregnant, giving birth to young Lucius when she was only nineteen years of age. Unknown to Clementine, Sigmund gave their child the middle name Pilate because of his dislike for the Christian religion, giving their son the name of the Roman governor who supposedly killed Jesus Christ.
Lucius did well in school, building up his language and history skills, but somewhat lacking in arithmetic. His young mind was shaped into a soldier’s, his father taking no backtalk and told Lucius that following orders from his elders and superiors was to be the topmost priority, above even things as enjoyment and love. Unfortunately, this dedication to law and order also managed to expunge most of the soldier’s humor and creativity, and he lacked in subjects such as art and music. As a teenager Lucius was required to learn how to play the violin, harp, or piano. He tried all of the instruments but he could not manage to make anything come out of them that sounded tolerable, let alone pleasurable.
Life under French rule kindled a hate for his people’s oppressors. Even though his mother was French, he considered her the only half-decent thing to come out of the accursed country that neighbored Germany. He considered himself a complete German, and wished to forget the French blood that ran through his veins. Meanwhile, he became a lover of the National Socialist Party. In 1935, a 15 year old Lucius attended a Nazi rally in nearby Aachen, waving a swastika flag and cheering as French soldiers tried to restrain the pulsating crowd. Only a month after the rally both his mother was killed in an automobile accident, totaling the Volkswagen they had paid many months’ wages for and taking a beloved mother away from her son.
When Germany remilitarized Rhineland in 1936 it was a grand event for the Hinderschieds. The French retreated without a fight and the Germans laughed at their fleeing troops, calling them cowards and weaklings. Lucius was 16 at the time of remilitarization, and had to wait two years before he could formally enlist in the German military. In this age gap he joined Hitler Youth, becoming a leader of a small squad of boys, leading them on hiking trips, river fording, and junior weapons training.
Lucius Pilate Hinderschied was recruited by the Waffen-SS agency in Mainz on September 24, 1938 and was sent to a training camp in the wilderness outside of Cologne, Germany in early December. Upon arrival he was stripped, his body examined, and his background searched back to the 17th century for any “undesirable” mixes, and when none was found, he was issued a recruit’s grey wool uniform, helmet, and Karbiner 98k. He was put under a grueling training process that ran through the wickedly cold winter, mild spring, and blistering hot summer. Lucius was seen as a prime German soldier; young, fast, ruthless and tough. He excelled during arms training, an average shot with a rifle and quick at reloading/carrying MG34/42’s. But his real strength came with close-quarters combat, where he proved his well-muscled arms could stab a knife as well as any senior NCO. While most other soldiers graduated at SS-Schutze, Lucius and a few other ideal students received the title of SS-Oberschutze.
During the invasion of Poland Lucius remained as a reserve, but was sent to the front when Germany invaded France during the summer of 1940. During the invasion Lucius fought with zealous fervor, conquering his family’s long-time oppressors. While serving throughout the war Lucius received various promotions.
Military Rank: Please issue one as you see fit.
Writing Sample:
Scheiße...
That was the only thing Lucius Hinderschied could mutter as he looked at the four corpses in front of him, their flesh still warm and blood still oozing out of the rips and tears in their uniforms where French and British bullets had pierced them. Lucius was the only one left alive, and was not exactly sure why he had been spared. Had the enemy not seen him? The shots had come from the opposite end of the field, their rifles concealed in the twisted, gnarled roots where yellowed, knee-high grass met the woodland. When the shots rang out he had dropped to the ground, his grey-green uniform camouflaged by the stalks of grass. Who had been hit first? Had it been Knud, the lanky Danish volunteer with a crooked nose? Or Sergeant Staub, the loudmouth Berliner? It didn’t matter now, they were both dead, Knud from a bullet to the back of the head and Staub to a hail of light machine gun fire. But there was Lucius, completely unhurt by the sporadic fire.
The young Waffen-SS soldier adjusted the steel brim of his helmet before making an attempt to crawl over to the body of Staub to retrieve his MP-40. Lucius lay prone, clutching his K98 in both extended hands, moving it side to side to clear a path through the grass before lurching his body forward. He reached Staub in less than a minute, the corpse already starting to smell in the hot French sun. His belly was bloated and his tongue hung out obtusely, making Hinderschied halt for a moment before working the metal weapon out of the dead man’s hands. He had to use his bayonet to work free the ammunition magazines, replacing them onto his belt. He decided to keep his K98k along the MP-40, for the bolt-action had a much longer range and a higher caliber than the sub-machine gun, which could make it useful for shots across the long, flat field. The extra weight would probably be safer than having to make potshots 100 yards away with a sub-machinegun.
Lucius slung the K98k over his shoulder and pulled back the bolt on Staub’s weapon after ramming a fresh magazine home. Hinderschied would try to make it over to a farmhouse in the corner of the property, and he would try to slowly move in a crouch. His jackboots plodded softly across the earth, only his steel blue eyes and helmet sticking out above the grass. As he made his way to the farmhouse, the soldier kept glancing behind him, watching for any sign of the damn British and French who had killed the rest of his squad.
When he was within 20 yards of the farmhouse Lucius stood up and hunched over, sprinting for the farmhouse. He did not let his guard down until he was at its door. He caught his breath for a second before smashing his boot into the weak farmhouse door. It gave in easily under the pressure and Lucius fired a quick burst from his MP40 around the farmhouse’s single downstairs room, and was thrilled to find that no Frenchman or tea-drinkers were residing in the house. He spun around quickly and ran up the stairs, finding that upper floor was also clear. He let a sigh of relief escape his lips, but that relaxation was short lived…
“We really flagged down these damn Jerries!” an excited voice said from where Lucius had been only a few minutes before. He cursed under his breath, taking the Kar98 off of his back and setting the MP40 down on the floor. Lucius made his way to the upstairs window, looking down on the four British soldiers staring at the bodies of his comrades. Lucius rested the barrel of his Kar98k on the window’s frame and aimed down the ironsights and the soldier who had made the comment about killing Staub, Knud, and the rest. “Für mein Führer..” Lucius whispered as he pulled the trigger.