Post by Tom West on Jul 10, 2011 8:22:56 GMT
Account E-Mail: playwrite777@gmail.com
Name:ThomasWest
Nationality: American
What Army will Your Character Serve Beneath? US
Character History: Thomas West was born on November 6, 1923 in Cherry Creek, Wyoming. His father, Henry West, was the foreman for a lumber yard, and his mother, Beatrice, was a stay at home wife. Thomas was a very fit and active boy from the time he could walk. Throughout his school days he excelled at sports including baseball and football. His favorite, however, was football. When Tom was not on the football field, he was in the classroom. He was very intelligent and got very good grades as well. Early on, he showed very good leadership potential, and became a natural leader of the boys on his football team. His senior year of High School he was the captain of the football team. When America was pushed into the great conflagration known as World War Two after the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor, Thomas rushed to the local recruiting office in his Father's 1940 Model A pickup. He drove the 20 miles to the office, enlisted in the army, and went home to tell his parents. He excelled in Boot Camp. He is a competant and good combat leader. He is well liked in his squad, and has dedicated himself to getting as many of his boys safely back home as possible. Soon, he will be tested in battle....
Military Rank: Corporal
Writing Sample:Corporal West sat quietly in his foxhole watching the field in front of him for any sign of movement. The early morning fog hung heavily in the air covering the ground like a soft, white blanket. The bitter cold ate at him. Even beneath his overcoat, he could feel the cold, frigid air in his bones. Blowing on his hands for what must have been the hundredth time on his watch, he made sure that his breath wouldn’t show in the air and give his position away.
The platoon had moved into this part of the woods a little over a week ago, and there had been sporadic fighting the entire time. There they had set, at the edge of the woods waiting for any signs of an enemy attack. He was part of a machine gun squad for the platoon – the second in command. There was a slight rustling in the foxhole beneath him as his squad’s leader, Sergeant Harrison, shifted beneath his wool blanket.
Checking his watch, Thomas saw that he only had another half hour left on his watch before it was the Sergeant’s turn to take over. Their foxhole was just behind the machine gun that they were commanding and slightly to the right. The machine gun foxhole had two more soldiers from the squad in it; and, to the right of the machine gun’s hole, was another hole containing two other soldiers as well. As the platoon’s machine gun squad, it was their job to provide fire support to the rest of the platoon. Their job was doubly important as they were defending the frontlines now from any enemy counterattack.
Thomas briefly took his eyes off of the front and looked over at the other holes for his squad. He could see the other men on watch also trying to keep warm while watching the front. They had been through some tough situations before, and had come through. Most of the squad members he had known since boot camp, but there were two replacements. It was tough getting new guys in, but necessary.
Turning his eyes back to the front, his eyes moved over the terrain. There wasn’t much to see past the vale of fog that still hung in the air. Suddenly, he thought he saw something. It was barely discernable beneath the fog. The faint movement only lasted for a split second. Thomas tried to focus in on just what he could have been seeing. Then, there it was again - the slightest movement against the fog. He quickly reached over and grabbed his M1 Rifle. Using his leg, he bumped his Sergeant awake. There was a grumble from the gristled Sergeant below him. After a few moments of waking up, the Sergeant came up to West’s level.
“What is it,” asked the Sergeant looking out into the fog.
West tried hard to see the movement again, hoping he wasn’t waking his Sergeant for no reason. “I thought I saw something through the fog. Moving from the edge of the field forward and to our left flank.” Thomas squinted once more in an effort to more clearly see anything.
The Sergeant stood by Thomas peering through the fog as if somehow they could make it part with their gazes. The Sergeant’s eyes grew wide. “Say, I think you’re right, buddy.” The two of the men watched the movement even more closely. The fog carried sounds in strange ways at times. They listened and watched, but with not much improvement. “Get the rest of the Squad on alert. I’ll spread word to the rest of the platoon.”
Thomas nodded to him and began to stand up to get out of the hole. The sergeant was just a little faster than Thomas. As the Sergeant stood up to get out of the hole, a single shot rang out shattering the silence that was enshrouding by the fog. Thomas instinctively hit the dirt in the hole. A small groan escaped his Sergeant as he collapsed into the hole. It was then that all hell broke loose.
The fog exploded with a new curtain – a curtain of lead. All around the woods, bullets began to kick up the dirt and splinter the trees. There were screams as mortar shells began to crash all over the platoons’ lines. Thomas’ heart began to pound in his chest with the familiar explosion of adrenaline and fear. They were feelings that he was all too familiar with, unfortunately.
In a split second, he began to act. “Charlie,” he hollered to the machine gunner the next hole over, “open up into the fog at 11 o’clock!”
“Roger that,” called back the soldier. A moment later, the staccato sounds of the machine gun let him know that they were following his orders.
Thomas kneeled down into the hole where his Sergeant lay. There was blood coming out of his chest and mouth. His face was contorted in a painful expression of agony. There was a soft gurgling noise emanating from him. Reaching for his first aid kit, Thomas began to act as he had been trained. “Hang in there, Sarge,” he said as he pulled out the bandage and placed it over his friends’ wound. “You’re going to be just fine.” Thomas applied pressure to the wound. The woods continued to explode all around. A mortar shell landed no more than 20 feet from the hole and made Thomas flinch.
Thomas began to reach for his sulfa powder to pour into his Sergeant’s wound, when he saw that the man’s eyes were glazed over, staring into the sky. It didn’t take more than that for Thomas to know that he was gone. Thomas immediately sprang to the top of his hole with his Garand and began to fire at the shapes he saw moving.
“Keep up that fire!” Thomas shouted to his men.
“We are burning through the ammo! We need another box,” shouted the assistant gunner. Thomas thought briefly to himself.
“Sit tight! I’ll get some ammo to you,” Thomas shouted back as he crawled out of the hole staying low. He made his way behind the machine gun and to the other hole where the ammo bearers were. As he neared the hole, he could see the smoke rising from it. That was not a good sign. Upon crawling to the hole, he could see that his fears were confirmed. A mortar shell had landed in their hole killing both men. Thomas quickly searched, his eyes frantically searching for what he needed. At the corner of the hole, he found what he was looking for. Thomas reached out and grabbed the box of ammunition. He saw the other box at the bottom of the hole amid the gore that was once his Squad mates. It had taken a large amount of shrapnel and was obviously useless.
As Thomas made his way back to the machine gun hole, he quickly tried to assess his situation and come up with a solid plan of action. In the opening moments of the attack, his squad leader, and ammo bearers – half his quad – had been killed. The machine gun was running low on ammunition, and they only had one other box of ammunition available to them. Things were not looking good.
It didn’t take him long to travel the distance to the machine gun. All during his crawl, enemy bullets stitched up the ground behind him. Upon reaching the hole, he placed the ammunition beside the current box of ammunition that they were using. “That’s all we got,” Thomas tried to yell over the machine gun’s firing. “Burst fire only! Give me 5 rounds in each sector from 10 to 12 o’clock. That should keep those guys down.”
The assistant gunner yelled back, but could barely be heard. Thomas moved back over to his hole. He dropped in on top of his dead Sergeant inadvertently. Popping his head up with his rifle, he began to fire at the shapes. They were closer now, about no more than 25 yards away. Thomas picked his shots, making sure to drop the enemy troops closest to the line. He could hear the machine gun firing as he had ordered. Ideally, he would have liked to displace the machine gun closer to where the attack was, but under these conditions, it wasn’t possible.
West and his squad continued to keep up their fire. West reached into his pocket and pulled out a grenade. The enemy was getting close and soon, he might need it. “Keep up the fire!” Thomas yelled as he heard a longer than usual pause in the machine gun’s firing. Shortly, it continued firing. Thomas dropped yet another enemy and watched as he fell after a splash of blood from his chest.
Then, just as suddenly as the attack had begun, it stopped. No more mortar rounds were crashing down on their lines. Thomas stopped firing and looked over the field to see if the attack was still coming. Through the fog that had started to lift, Thomas could see enemy troops in white snow suits running back to their lines. Concerned for his squad’s ammunition for the machine gun, Thomas decided to call out his next order. “Seize fire on the MG!” After another burst, the machine gun stopped.
There was an eerie quiet that settled over the field once again. It was almost as if nothing had happened. Only this time, there was not utter quiet. Now, there were moans and cries from the wounded. Thomas glanced down at the dead Sergeant. In such a short time, half of his squad had been annihilated. Thomas moved over to the machine gun hole. “Change out the barrels while we have a chance. We don’t know if they’ll hit us again. Keep your position here, and watch the entire front – not just where they attacked from. Same fire instructions as before. I got to get use more ammo,” Thomas finished his orders by staring at the last box of ammo being fed into the machine gun.
Thomas crawled away and toward the Company CP where he would be able to find ammunition for his machine gun. The trip would give him time to think over what had just happened and how that taking care of the squad – or what was left of it – was his responsibility alone. The image of his Sergeant’s dying face flashed through his mind. He pushed the image to the back of his mind and instead concentrated on the task at hand: Getting more ammunition to feed the machine gun to kill more of the enemy. He couldn’t being his friends back, but at least he could avenge them…..
How did you find us? If you found us via a link somewhere, where was it? If someone pointed you here, who was it?: A Google Search
Name:ThomasWest
Nationality: American
What Army will Your Character Serve Beneath? US
Character History: Thomas West was born on November 6, 1923 in Cherry Creek, Wyoming. His father, Henry West, was the foreman for a lumber yard, and his mother, Beatrice, was a stay at home wife. Thomas was a very fit and active boy from the time he could walk. Throughout his school days he excelled at sports including baseball and football. His favorite, however, was football. When Tom was not on the football field, he was in the classroom. He was very intelligent and got very good grades as well. Early on, he showed very good leadership potential, and became a natural leader of the boys on his football team. His senior year of High School he was the captain of the football team. When America was pushed into the great conflagration known as World War Two after the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor, Thomas rushed to the local recruiting office in his Father's 1940 Model A pickup. He drove the 20 miles to the office, enlisted in the army, and went home to tell his parents. He excelled in Boot Camp. He is a competant and good combat leader. He is well liked in his squad, and has dedicated himself to getting as many of his boys safely back home as possible. Soon, he will be tested in battle....
Military Rank: Corporal
Writing Sample:Corporal West sat quietly in his foxhole watching the field in front of him for any sign of movement. The early morning fog hung heavily in the air covering the ground like a soft, white blanket. The bitter cold ate at him. Even beneath his overcoat, he could feel the cold, frigid air in his bones. Blowing on his hands for what must have been the hundredth time on his watch, he made sure that his breath wouldn’t show in the air and give his position away.
The platoon had moved into this part of the woods a little over a week ago, and there had been sporadic fighting the entire time. There they had set, at the edge of the woods waiting for any signs of an enemy attack. He was part of a machine gun squad for the platoon – the second in command. There was a slight rustling in the foxhole beneath him as his squad’s leader, Sergeant Harrison, shifted beneath his wool blanket.
Checking his watch, Thomas saw that he only had another half hour left on his watch before it was the Sergeant’s turn to take over. Their foxhole was just behind the machine gun that they were commanding and slightly to the right. The machine gun foxhole had two more soldiers from the squad in it; and, to the right of the machine gun’s hole, was another hole containing two other soldiers as well. As the platoon’s machine gun squad, it was their job to provide fire support to the rest of the platoon. Their job was doubly important as they were defending the frontlines now from any enemy counterattack.
Thomas briefly took his eyes off of the front and looked over at the other holes for his squad. He could see the other men on watch also trying to keep warm while watching the front. They had been through some tough situations before, and had come through. Most of the squad members he had known since boot camp, but there were two replacements. It was tough getting new guys in, but necessary.
Turning his eyes back to the front, his eyes moved over the terrain. There wasn’t much to see past the vale of fog that still hung in the air. Suddenly, he thought he saw something. It was barely discernable beneath the fog. The faint movement only lasted for a split second. Thomas tried to focus in on just what he could have been seeing. Then, there it was again - the slightest movement against the fog. He quickly reached over and grabbed his M1 Rifle. Using his leg, he bumped his Sergeant awake. There was a grumble from the gristled Sergeant below him. After a few moments of waking up, the Sergeant came up to West’s level.
“What is it,” asked the Sergeant looking out into the fog.
West tried hard to see the movement again, hoping he wasn’t waking his Sergeant for no reason. “I thought I saw something through the fog. Moving from the edge of the field forward and to our left flank.” Thomas squinted once more in an effort to more clearly see anything.
The Sergeant stood by Thomas peering through the fog as if somehow they could make it part with their gazes. The Sergeant’s eyes grew wide. “Say, I think you’re right, buddy.” The two of the men watched the movement even more closely. The fog carried sounds in strange ways at times. They listened and watched, but with not much improvement. “Get the rest of the Squad on alert. I’ll spread word to the rest of the platoon.”
Thomas nodded to him and began to stand up to get out of the hole. The sergeant was just a little faster than Thomas. As the Sergeant stood up to get out of the hole, a single shot rang out shattering the silence that was enshrouding by the fog. Thomas instinctively hit the dirt in the hole. A small groan escaped his Sergeant as he collapsed into the hole. It was then that all hell broke loose.
The fog exploded with a new curtain – a curtain of lead. All around the woods, bullets began to kick up the dirt and splinter the trees. There were screams as mortar shells began to crash all over the platoons’ lines. Thomas’ heart began to pound in his chest with the familiar explosion of adrenaline and fear. They were feelings that he was all too familiar with, unfortunately.
In a split second, he began to act. “Charlie,” he hollered to the machine gunner the next hole over, “open up into the fog at 11 o’clock!”
“Roger that,” called back the soldier. A moment later, the staccato sounds of the machine gun let him know that they were following his orders.
Thomas kneeled down into the hole where his Sergeant lay. There was blood coming out of his chest and mouth. His face was contorted in a painful expression of agony. There was a soft gurgling noise emanating from him. Reaching for his first aid kit, Thomas began to act as he had been trained. “Hang in there, Sarge,” he said as he pulled out the bandage and placed it over his friends’ wound. “You’re going to be just fine.” Thomas applied pressure to the wound. The woods continued to explode all around. A mortar shell landed no more than 20 feet from the hole and made Thomas flinch.
Thomas began to reach for his sulfa powder to pour into his Sergeant’s wound, when he saw that the man’s eyes were glazed over, staring into the sky. It didn’t take more than that for Thomas to know that he was gone. Thomas immediately sprang to the top of his hole with his Garand and began to fire at the shapes he saw moving.
“Keep up that fire!” Thomas shouted to his men.
“We are burning through the ammo! We need another box,” shouted the assistant gunner. Thomas thought briefly to himself.
“Sit tight! I’ll get some ammo to you,” Thomas shouted back as he crawled out of the hole staying low. He made his way behind the machine gun and to the other hole where the ammo bearers were. As he neared the hole, he could see the smoke rising from it. That was not a good sign. Upon crawling to the hole, he could see that his fears were confirmed. A mortar shell had landed in their hole killing both men. Thomas quickly searched, his eyes frantically searching for what he needed. At the corner of the hole, he found what he was looking for. Thomas reached out and grabbed the box of ammunition. He saw the other box at the bottom of the hole amid the gore that was once his Squad mates. It had taken a large amount of shrapnel and was obviously useless.
As Thomas made his way back to the machine gun hole, he quickly tried to assess his situation and come up with a solid plan of action. In the opening moments of the attack, his squad leader, and ammo bearers – half his quad – had been killed. The machine gun was running low on ammunition, and they only had one other box of ammunition available to them. Things were not looking good.
It didn’t take him long to travel the distance to the machine gun. All during his crawl, enemy bullets stitched up the ground behind him. Upon reaching the hole, he placed the ammunition beside the current box of ammunition that they were using. “That’s all we got,” Thomas tried to yell over the machine gun’s firing. “Burst fire only! Give me 5 rounds in each sector from 10 to 12 o’clock. That should keep those guys down.”
The assistant gunner yelled back, but could barely be heard. Thomas moved back over to his hole. He dropped in on top of his dead Sergeant inadvertently. Popping his head up with his rifle, he began to fire at the shapes. They were closer now, about no more than 25 yards away. Thomas picked his shots, making sure to drop the enemy troops closest to the line. He could hear the machine gun firing as he had ordered. Ideally, he would have liked to displace the machine gun closer to where the attack was, but under these conditions, it wasn’t possible.
West and his squad continued to keep up their fire. West reached into his pocket and pulled out a grenade. The enemy was getting close and soon, he might need it. “Keep up the fire!” Thomas yelled as he heard a longer than usual pause in the machine gun’s firing. Shortly, it continued firing. Thomas dropped yet another enemy and watched as he fell after a splash of blood from his chest.
Then, just as suddenly as the attack had begun, it stopped. No more mortar rounds were crashing down on their lines. Thomas stopped firing and looked over the field to see if the attack was still coming. Through the fog that had started to lift, Thomas could see enemy troops in white snow suits running back to their lines. Concerned for his squad’s ammunition for the machine gun, Thomas decided to call out his next order. “Seize fire on the MG!” After another burst, the machine gun stopped.
There was an eerie quiet that settled over the field once again. It was almost as if nothing had happened. Only this time, there was not utter quiet. Now, there were moans and cries from the wounded. Thomas glanced down at the dead Sergeant. In such a short time, half of his squad had been annihilated. Thomas moved over to the machine gun hole. “Change out the barrels while we have a chance. We don’t know if they’ll hit us again. Keep your position here, and watch the entire front – not just where they attacked from. Same fire instructions as before. I got to get use more ammo,” Thomas finished his orders by staring at the last box of ammo being fed into the machine gun.
Thomas crawled away and toward the Company CP where he would be able to find ammunition for his machine gun. The trip would give him time to think over what had just happened and how that taking care of the squad – or what was left of it – was his responsibility alone. The image of his Sergeant’s dying face flashed through his mind. He pushed the image to the back of his mind and instead concentrated on the task at hand: Getting more ammunition to feed the machine gun to kill more of the enemy. He couldn’t being his friends back, but at least he could avenge them…..
How did you find us? If you found us via a link somewhere, where was it? If someone pointed you here, who was it?: A Google Search
