Post by Sō Hiroyasu on Jul 3, 2014 17:24:00 GMT
Character Name
Sō Hiroyasu
Allegiance
大日本帝國
Dai-Nippon Teikoku
(Greater Japanese Empire)
Branch of Service
海軍特別陸戦隊
Kaigun Tokubetsu Rikusentai
(Special Naval Landing Force)
[Imperial Japanese Marines]
Requested Rank
Kaigun Daii
(Lieutenant)
[I chose the third Japanese Naval Officer Rank since Japanese ranks are not implemented)
History
Sō Hiroyasu was a man of honor. Born on Tsushima in 1912 to Sō Shigemochi, Hiroyasu grew up in a demanding atmosphere. The Sōs were an old Samurai clan that had governed Tsushima for nearly 700 years. Highly educated, he was expected to excel in all academic fields, and a few physical ones as well. The martial arts were not as common as the had once been, but Shigemochi mandated that Hiroyasu practice them. He was a student of Japanese arts such as Karate and Iaido from a young age, and he studied Hapkido boxing with visitors from nearby Korea.
Tsushima had been an important trading center with Korea for hundreds of years. Hiroyasu's ancestor, Sō Sadamori, had monopolized trade with Korea in 1449. The wealth and power the Sō clan gained from sole trade with Joseon Korean more than made up for it's small size, and they soon emerged as one of the major clans of Japan.
Though the feudal han system was abolished in 1871, the Sō family still prospered. Hiroyasu's grandfather managed the new Izuhara Prefecture as governor, despite being stripped of his status as feudal lord. The Tsushima Fuchu domain was soon merged with Imari Prefecture, which was renamed Saga, and eventually transferred to Nagasaki Prefecture. The final strings attaching the Sō family to control of the island were cut, and they were little more than honored relics in a modern world.
Hiroyasu grew up learning about local fishing, and accepted every offer to ride along. The Tsushima islands were a wet place to be, usually the most rainy place in Japan. Hiroyasu often tagged along on boats catching squid, pretending he was a wakō pirate captain to the amusement of the crew. The most exciting adventure he had in his young life was joining a trade ship to Pusan shortly before the death of his father in 1923.
In 1928 he finished school and joined the Dai-Nippon Teikoku Kaigun, or Navy of the Greater Japanese Empire. He was a young cadet, only 16, but had brains and enough guts to use them. He graduated in 1929 and volunteered for the new Special Naval Landing Forces. He was commissioned as an Ensign commanding a platoon at the Sasebo Naval Base in Kyūshū,
Over the next ten years, Hiroyasu saw several large-scale battles against the Chinese, most notably in the defense of occupied Shanghai. His unit was returned to Sasebo to refit, and he was notified of his promotion to Kaigun Daii, equivalent to an American Army Captain. He was given command of a company and sent to Malaya. The war against the Allies had begun.
In the fighting that followed, 9.Sasebo Kaigun Tokubetsu Rikusentai swept through the Philippines, and then Malaya, Singapore, and the Dutch East Indies. They were an unstoppable force, and by the time they captured Australian New Guinea, they had captured hundreds of thousands of Allied troops.
Change was in the air however, and they would soon be facing Americans on a little island in the Solomons that would be the turning point of Japan's ground war. Within a month the 9th Sasebo Regiment no longer existed. All senior officers were dead. Replacements were mostly Army troops, so the 9th withered from a force 1200-strong to a core of hard-eyed veterans numbering only 50. The name of the island was Guadalcanal, and there was change in the air.
Writing Sample:
Kaigun Daii Sō Hiroyasu watched in silence at the approaching Americans, gripping his Guntō sword loosely. For the thousandth time since he landed on Guadalcanal, he wished he had a rifle. The sword was a symbol of authority, an echo of the Samurai. He was honored to carry the blade, but it was very disadvatageous against guns, as many of his fellow officers had already discovered.
He swivelled his eyes slowly to the crumpled khaki figure lying in the middle of the path. "Eyes up, Marines!" spoke a grizzled-looking American. Hiroyasu had known English since he was a child, a boon from the constant stream of sailors to his island of Tsushima. The American patrol stopped and dropped to a crouch, raising rifles as the lead man pointed at the dead Japanese.
"What is it Gunny?" spoke a lanky Marine at the rear, his voice wavering. He must have been new to the meatgrinder. The grizzled-looking Gunnery Sergeant didn't answer at first, scanning the surrounding jungle for any movement. They didn't know it, but there were nearly twenty Japanese of the Special Naval Landing Force surrounding the little squad.
"Jee-zusss. Calm down Smitty. It's just a dead Jap in the trail," said the stocky man beside the lanky Marine. Smitty looked ready to pee himself. All that oo-Rah gung-ho kill-kill-kill stuff seemed to have left him once he arrived in a combat zone, his eyes darting from tree to tree. "Maybe not," spoke to Gunnery Sergeant again, pointing at the stocky Marine. "Adams, put one through that sonofabitch."
"Aye, sir," the man replied, duckwalking to the head of the patrol and levelling his Springfield rifle at the body. It was an easy shot at thirty yards, hitting right behind the left ear of the dead Japanese and blowing a hole in his forehead as it exited. Hiroyasu fingered his lucky Senninbari, or thousand-stitch belt, praying for the spirit of the dead man as the stocky man flashed the OK sign.
"He's dead alright. Fucker might still be booby trapped. Get up there and check him, Smitty," said the Gunnery Sergeant, pointing from the lanky Marine to the corpse. Smitty turned a shade whiter than any white man Hiro had ever seen as he creeped toward the body, his finger on the trigger of his BAR. It was almost time. Hiroyasu tightened his grip on the sword, touching his thousand-stitch belt for luck a final time.
Smitty reached the corpse and poked it with his Automatic Rifle, glancing at the Gunny for strength. The Gunnery Sergeant nodded, and Smitty pushed the body over with his foot. The face of the khaki-clad Japanese was bloated and purple, a mask of agony still could be discerned in the ruined features. "No traps, Gunny," Smitty sighed, resting his BAR on his knee. It was time.
"Tennō Heika, Banzai!" Hiro shouted, crying long life for his Emperor as he jumped from the undergrowth. The jungle came alive as the cry was taken up by his men bursting from the brush, teeth shining and bayonets flashing. The dash to the trail was quick, and the surprised Americans only got off a few shots before the enemy was on them. They had travelled with bayonets sheathed, and were at a disadvantage from the start.
Hiro swung at a large Marine wielding his rifle like a club, slicing a gash from armpit to groin. The man screamed in terror as Hiro thrust in the man's guts, mewing as he twisted and pulled the blade free, blood spurting onto his hands. Guts spilled from the man's open abdomen and he dropped to the ground, no longer a threat.
Hiro slipped in the bile, landing in the man's intestines. He freed himself and managed to stand, but the skirmish was over. They had suffered two dead and six wounded. Nine Americans had been killed, and two captured. One of them was gravely wounded, and Hiroyasu ordered him brought forward. Two men dragged the American forward, pushing him down to a kneeling position and stepping away. It was the Gunnery Sergeant.
"Fuckin' nip monkeys," he spat, grimacing at the bayonet wound in his lower back. One of Hiro's men smacked the back of the Gunny's head with a rifle butt. "Put his head down!" Hiro ordered in Japanese. They forced the Gunny down with their boots, making him scream as they kicked his wound.
Hiro stepped forward, levelling his sword with the Gunnery Sergeant's neck. The man looked defiantly into Hiro's eyes, a rude last gesture from a profane man. Hiro screamed and swung. He flicked the blade to remove any blood on the blade, and sheathed his weapon. The Gunny toppled over, his head rolling several feet before a Japanese stopped it with his boot.
"Carry it back to camp. And shut that prisoner up," he ordered, waving his hand at the other captive, who was begging to be released. One man held the prisoner while another took a bayonet to his mouth, sawing his tongue off as he yelled in surprise. Another victory for the brave troops of Emperor Shōwa.
Sō Hiroyasu
Allegiance
大日本帝國
Dai-Nippon Teikoku
(Greater Japanese Empire)
Branch of Service
海軍特別陸戦隊
Kaigun Tokubetsu Rikusentai
(Special Naval Landing Force)
[Imperial Japanese Marines]
Requested Rank
Kaigun Daii
(Lieutenant)
[I chose the third Japanese Naval Officer Rank since Japanese ranks are not implemented)
History
Sō Hiroyasu was a man of honor. Born on Tsushima in 1912 to Sō Shigemochi, Hiroyasu grew up in a demanding atmosphere. The Sōs were an old Samurai clan that had governed Tsushima for nearly 700 years. Highly educated, he was expected to excel in all academic fields, and a few physical ones as well. The martial arts were not as common as the had once been, but Shigemochi mandated that Hiroyasu practice them. He was a student of Japanese arts such as Karate and Iaido from a young age, and he studied Hapkido boxing with visitors from nearby Korea.
Tsushima had been an important trading center with Korea for hundreds of years. Hiroyasu's ancestor, Sō Sadamori, had monopolized trade with Korea in 1449. The wealth and power the Sō clan gained from sole trade with Joseon Korean more than made up for it's small size, and they soon emerged as one of the major clans of Japan.
Though the feudal han system was abolished in 1871, the Sō family still prospered. Hiroyasu's grandfather managed the new Izuhara Prefecture as governor, despite being stripped of his status as feudal lord. The Tsushima Fuchu domain was soon merged with Imari Prefecture, which was renamed Saga, and eventually transferred to Nagasaki Prefecture. The final strings attaching the Sō family to control of the island were cut, and they were little more than honored relics in a modern world.
Hiroyasu grew up learning about local fishing, and accepted every offer to ride along. The Tsushima islands were a wet place to be, usually the most rainy place in Japan. Hiroyasu often tagged along on boats catching squid, pretending he was a wakō pirate captain to the amusement of the crew. The most exciting adventure he had in his young life was joining a trade ship to Pusan shortly before the death of his father in 1923.
In 1928 he finished school and joined the Dai-Nippon Teikoku Kaigun, or Navy of the Greater Japanese Empire. He was a young cadet, only 16, but had brains and enough guts to use them. He graduated in 1929 and volunteered for the new Special Naval Landing Forces. He was commissioned as an Ensign commanding a platoon at the Sasebo Naval Base in Kyūshū,
Over the next ten years, Hiroyasu saw several large-scale battles against the Chinese, most notably in the defense of occupied Shanghai. His unit was returned to Sasebo to refit, and he was notified of his promotion to Kaigun Daii, equivalent to an American Army Captain. He was given command of a company and sent to Malaya. The war against the Allies had begun.
In the fighting that followed, 9.Sasebo Kaigun Tokubetsu Rikusentai swept through the Philippines, and then Malaya, Singapore, and the Dutch East Indies. They were an unstoppable force, and by the time they captured Australian New Guinea, they had captured hundreds of thousands of Allied troops.
Change was in the air however, and they would soon be facing Americans on a little island in the Solomons that would be the turning point of Japan's ground war. Within a month the 9th Sasebo Regiment no longer existed. All senior officers were dead. Replacements were mostly Army troops, so the 9th withered from a force 1200-strong to a core of hard-eyed veterans numbering only 50. The name of the island was Guadalcanal, and there was change in the air.
Writing Sample:
Kaigun Daii Sō Hiroyasu watched in silence at the approaching Americans, gripping his Guntō sword loosely. For the thousandth time since he landed on Guadalcanal, he wished he had a rifle. The sword was a symbol of authority, an echo of the Samurai. He was honored to carry the blade, but it was very disadvatageous against guns, as many of his fellow officers had already discovered.
He swivelled his eyes slowly to the crumpled khaki figure lying in the middle of the path. "Eyes up, Marines!" spoke a grizzled-looking American. Hiroyasu had known English since he was a child, a boon from the constant stream of sailors to his island of Tsushima. The American patrol stopped and dropped to a crouch, raising rifles as the lead man pointed at the dead Japanese.
"What is it Gunny?" spoke a lanky Marine at the rear, his voice wavering. He must have been new to the meatgrinder. The grizzled-looking Gunnery Sergeant didn't answer at first, scanning the surrounding jungle for any movement. They didn't know it, but there were nearly twenty Japanese of the Special Naval Landing Force surrounding the little squad.
"Jee-zusss. Calm down Smitty. It's just a dead Jap in the trail," said the stocky man beside the lanky Marine. Smitty looked ready to pee himself. All that oo-Rah gung-ho kill-kill-kill stuff seemed to have left him once he arrived in a combat zone, his eyes darting from tree to tree. "Maybe not," spoke to Gunnery Sergeant again, pointing at the stocky Marine. "Adams, put one through that sonofabitch."
"Aye, sir," the man replied, duckwalking to the head of the patrol and levelling his Springfield rifle at the body. It was an easy shot at thirty yards, hitting right behind the left ear of the dead Japanese and blowing a hole in his forehead as it exited. Hiroyasu fingered his lucky Senninbari, or thousand-stitch belt, praying for the spirit of the dead man as the stocky man flashed the OK sign.
"He's dead alright. Fucker might still be booby trapped. Get up there and check him, Smitty," said the Gunnery Sergeant, pointing from the lanky Marine to the corpse. Smitty turned a shade whiter than any white man Hiro had ever seen as he creeped toward the body, his finger on the trigger of his BAR. It was almost time. Hiroyasu tightened his grip on the sword, touching his thousand-stitch belt for luck a final time.
Smitty reached the corpse and poked it with his Automatic Rifle, glancing at the Gunny for strength. The Gunnery Sergeant nodded, and Smitty pushed the body over with his foot. The face of the khaki-clad Japanese was bloated and purple, a mask of agony still could be discerned in the ruined features. "No traps, Gunny," Smitty sighed, resting his BAR on his knee. It was time.
"Tennō Heika, Banzai!" Hiro shouted, crying long life for his Emperor as he jumped from the undergrowth. The jungle came alive as the cry was taken up by his men bursting from the brush, teeth shining and bayonets flashing. The dash to the trail was quick, and the surprised Americans only got off a few shots before the enemy was on them. They had travelled with bayonets sheathed, and were at a disadvantage from the start.
Hiro swung at a large Marine wielding his rifle like a club, slicing a gash from armpit to groin. The man screamed in terror as Hiro thrust in the man's guts, mewing as he twisted and pulled the blade free, blood spurting onto his hands. Guts spilled from the man's open abdomen and he dropped to the ground, no longer a threat.
Hiro slipped in the bile, landing in the man's intestines. He freed himself and managed to stand, but the skirmish was over. They had suffered two dead and six wounded. Nine Americans had been killed, and two captured. One of them was gravely wounded, and Hiroyasu ordered him brought forward. Two men dragged the American forward, pushing him down to a kneeling position and stepping away. It was the Gunnery Sergeant.
"Fuckin' nip monkeys," he spat, grimacing at the bayonet wound in his lower back. One of Hiro's men smacked the back of the Gunny's head with a rifle butt. "Put his head down!" Hiro ordered in Japanese. They forced the Gunny down with their boots, making him scream as they kicked his wound.
Hiro stepped forward, levelling his sword with the Gunnery Sergeant's neck. The man looked defiantly into Hiro's eyes, a rude last gesture from a profane man. Hiro screamed and swung. He flicked the blade to remove any blood on the blade, and sheathed his weapon. The Gunny toppled over, his head rolling several feet before a Japanese stopped it with his boot.
"Carry it back to camp. And shut that prisoner up," he ordered, waving his hand at the other captive, who was begging to be released. One man held the prisoner while another took a bayonet to his mouth, sawing his tongue off as he yelled in surprise. Another victory for the brave troops of Emperor Shōwa.
