Post by David Faulkner on Nov 21, 2010 19:07:00 GMT
((Let me start by apologizing for my lack of activity and such that led, ultimately, to the deletion of my last character(s). I am not, unfortunately, a very patient person, but I believe I have become a bit more understanding of the value of patience. The quality that I once lacked is now one that I have, though only slightly. I will attempt to stay longer this time, lol.))
Account E-Mail: [removed]
Name:
- David Faulkner
Nationality:
- British
What Army Will Your Character Serve Beneath?
- United Kingdom
Character History:
- David was born smack-dab into the middle of a military-oriented family; his father was a Staff Sergeant in the British Army, having served honorably in World War I before retiring due to several injuries, as was his uncle. David's grandfather had also been in the Army, albeit without ever passing the rank of Corporal.
So, it wasn't too much of a surprise when David himself had asked his father to teach him how to fire a gun at the age of nine. The aging ex-soldier eagerly agreed, and began preparing his old Lee-Enfield to fire at some empty cans in their expansive backyard. David picked up how to prop the gun up against a small log pretty quickly, and he became a good shot, at least when the gun was kept level as the log could keep it. His problem was when he wasn't using the log; then, his small arms trembled under the rifle's weight and threw off his aim.
His father accepted this as a result of David's youth, knowing that the problem would alleviate as his arms grew to support the weapon in a more effective manner. David, however, did not.
He wanted everything right then, right on his tenth birthday. But something happened that changed everything he knew in life; his mother was pregnant. David's father supported her in every way possible, ending up exhausted at the end of each day.
The birth of the baby made matters far worse. It came out limp, and never moved again. Somehow, the baby had died inside of its mother's womb, just before the day it was to be born.
David had no chance of getting his father's help now. With his mother crying day in and day out, even David himself was forced to take time away from school to help care for her. The most she would say to anyone was, "It's my fault. All my fault." Weeks stretched into months, and David eventually turned twelve, marking the passage of just over a year. His father and him celebrated as best they could, but it just wasn't the same with his mother locked in her room, crying.
She did suicide soon after, firing the same Lee-Enfield that David's father had used in World War I right into her skull.
His father, if anything, ignored her death, and instead tried to focus everything he had on David. His shooting lessons started up again, as did his schooling. If David decided he wanted chicken for dinner, chicken would end up on his plate one way or another. It was as though his father was compensating for his mother's death by pouring his very soul into David.
For years this went on, and his father showed little interest in returning to a normal life. On his eighteenth birthday, David's father made his proposal at last.
"I want you to join the Army like I did, David."
David accepted, and soon he was training for battle with hundreds of other new recruits. By the time he reached the rank of Corporal, a new war was starting up, against Hitler and his 'Third Reich'. He and his platoon was deployed in France, and they just barely escaped death several times, acting as a thorn in Germany's side.
A few promotions later, David returned to Britain a hero, visiting with his father for a few months before being redeployed.
And that is where the real story begins...
Military Rank:
- Sergeant ((As I read it, that was the highest rank available for applying NCOs - however, if it is possible to receive a higher rank such as Staff Sergeant or Warrant Officer, which I have assumed it is not, I would like to go for the highest NCO rank available instead. Just not a CO rank.))
Writing Sample:
- You’re alone behind enemy lines and you get the eerie feeling someone’s watching you. You’re trying to remain quiet, stay low, work your way back to the front lines - but you can’t help but feel you’re being followed...
Snow crunched under dark, heavy boots. Fallen leaves, the last of the year, were crushed mercilessly. A rifle steadily beat a rhythm against its wielder's arm as he walked. David Faulkner hoisted his Lee-Enfield slightly higher, resting it in the crook of his elbow. Suddenly he stopped.
Nothing. No second set of footsteps could be heard. No quick, slight motions hidden behind the trees could be seen. David continued forward, slowly, more carefully.
He was being followed. Of that, the soldier had no doubt. However, firing randomly into the trees would just bring his pursuer upon him, if anything. No, the best way to handle this was calmly. Instinct would have to take a direct role.
Where was the rest of his platoon?
Where was his commanding officer?
Where was he?
A twitch in a pile of snow drew David's attention. He turned and walked over to it, angling his rifle to fire at anything that could be behind it. Before the young man could get there, a rustling sound signaled the departure of whatever was there.
He'd been too obvious.
David continued forward for a few minutes, senses on high alert, finger twitching to pull the trigger.
Another rustle, from the opposite side. This time David turned away from it, and pretended to search the trees. He heard a very slight crunch, and whipped around.
The soldier leaped forward, landing right in front of the pile of snow. He was greeted with a rifle being aimed right at his face. No time to think. David swung his own rifle. He heard a loud cracking sound, and a splatter of crimson stained the ground.
One more dead German. David shivered and got up, wiping off his rifle. The sooner he got back to his platoon, the better.
Account E-Mail: [removed]
Name:
- David Faulkner
Nationality:
- British
What Army Will Your Character Serve Beneath?
- United Kingdom
Character History:
- David was born smack-dab into the middle of a military-oriented family; his father was a Staff Sergeant in the British Army, having served honorably in World War I before retiring due to several injuries, as was his uncle. David's grandfather had also been in the Army, albeit without ever passing the rank of Corporal.
So, it wasn't too much of a surprise when David himself had asked his father to teach him how to fire a gun at the age of nine. The aging ex-soldier eagerly agreed, and began preparing his old Lee-Enfield to fire at some empty cans in their expansive backyard. David picked up how to prop the gun up against a small log pretty quickly, and he became a good shot, at least when the gun was kept level as the log could keep it. His problem was when he wasn't using the log; then, his small arms trembled under the rifle's weight and threw off his aim.
His father accepted this as a result of David's youth, knowing that the problem would alleviate as his arms grew to support the weapon in a more effective manner. David, however, did not.
He wanted everything right then, right on his tenth birthday. But something happened that changed everything he knew in life; his mother was pregnant. David's father supported her in every way possible, ending up exhausted at the end of each day.
The birth of the baby made matters far worse. It came out limp, and never moved again. Somehow, the baby had died inside of its mother's womb, just before the day it was to be born.
David had no chance of getting his father's help now. With his mother crying day in and day out, even David himself was forced to take time away from school to help care for her. The most she would say to anyone was, "It's my fault. All my fault." Weeks stretched into months, and David eventually turned twelve, marking the passage of just over a year. His father and him celebrated as best they could, but it just wasn't the same with his mother locked in her room, crying.
She did suicide soon after, firing the same Lee-Enfield that David's father had used in World War I right into her skull.
His father, if anything, ignored her death, and instead tried to focus everything he had on David. His shooting lessons started up again, as did his schooling. If David decided he wanted chicken for dinner, chicken would end up on his plate one way or another. It was as though his father was compensating for his mother's death by pouring his very soul into David.
For years this went on, and his father showed little interest in returning to a normal life. On his eighteenth birthday, David's father made his proposal at last.
"I want you to join the Army like I did, David."
David accepted, and soon he was training for battle with hundreds of other new recruits. By the time he reached the rank of Corporal, a new war was starting up, against Hitler and his 'Third Reich'. He and his platoon was deployed in France, and they just barely escaped death several times, acting as a thorn in Germany's side.
A few promotions later, David returned to Britain a hero, visiting with his father for a few months before being redeployed.
And that is where the real story begins...
Military Rank:
- Sergeant ((As I read it, that was the highest rank available for applying NCOs - however, if it is possible to receive a higher rank such as Staff Sergeant or Warrant Officer, which I have assumed it is not, I would like to go for the highest NCO rank available instead. Just not a CO rank.))
Writing Sample:
- You’re alone behind enemy lines and you get the eerie feeling someone’s watching you. You’re trying to remain quiet, stay low, work your way back to the front lines - but you can’t help but feel you’re being followed...
Snow crunched under dark, heavy boots. Fallen leaves, the last of the year, were crushed mercilessly. A rifle steadily beat a rhythm against its wielder's arm as he walked. David Faulkner hoisted his Lee-Enfield slightly higher, resting it in the crook of his elbow. Suddenly he stopped.
Nothing. No second set of footsteps could be heard. No quick, slight motions hidden behind the trees could be seen. David continued forward, slowly, more carefully.
He was being followed. Of that, the soldier had no doubt. However, firing randomly into the trees would just bring his pursuer upon him, if anything. No, the best way to handle this was calmly. Instinct would have to take a direct role.
Where was the rest of his platoon?
Where was his commanding officer?
Where was he?
A twitch in a pile of snow drew David's attention. He turned and walked over to it, angling his rifle to fire at anything that could be behind it. Before the young man could get there, a rustling sound signaled the departure of whatever was there.
He'd been too obvious.
David continued forward for a few minutes, senses on high alert, finger twitching to pull the trigger.
Another rustle, from the opposite side. This time David turned away from it, and pretended to search the trees. He heard a very slight crunch, and whipped around.
The soldier leaped forward, landing right in front of the pile of snow. He was greeted with a rifle being aimed right at his face. No time to think. David swung his own rifle. He heard a loud cracking sound, and a splatter of crimson stained the ground.
One more dead German. David shivered and got up, wiping off his rifle. The sooner he got back to his platoon, the better.
