Post by Forrest Campbell on Sept 8, 2014 16:02:03 GMT
Character Name: Forrest Campbell
Allegiance: Allies/Free France (French Foreign Legion)
Requested Rank: Corporal (Foreign Legion)
History: Forrest Campbell was born in the American South at the turn of the century. His father had been a Confederate Cavalry Officer, and his Grandfather had fought during the second British Invasion of 1812. The family had a martial tradition that allegedly stretched back beyond the founding of the country, but Forrest had never seen any proof of this claim beyond the service of his father and grandfather. His entire childhood, he had wanted to be a soldier in order to make the world a better place. It was more than a passing phase to Forrest. Growing up, he was regaled with tails from his father and Grandfather about their experiences in war, about the honor and strength that could only be found on the battlefield. These stories ultimately drove him to run away from home when the opportunity arose. Using forged documents that he had paid for with money from his job at a local textile mill, He enlisted in the United States Army at age 17. America had just declared war on Germany and Austria-Hungary.
Forrest was enlisted into the II Corps of the US Army, which was attached to the British Third Army. His early experience of the Great War left him completely unprepared for the battles that were to come. Trench warfare the most terrifying things that Forrest had ever faced. The constant threat of an artillery shell coming crashing down on you and your comrades left him always on edge. But at some point, something changed. Forrest had begun to see the death around him, and rather than freeze up and become a mental casualty, he chose to throw his all into every engagement, going over the top with almost reckless abandon. Forrest had found his element. By the time he fought in the Somme Campaign, Forrest had adapted to the life of a soldier under constant threat of annihilation. He felt that the conflict had made him into the man he had always wanted to be.
It was during the Somme Campaign that he was dealt a blow he didn’t know how he could recover from. An enemy grenade found its way near him as he advanced towards an opposing trench. It was far enough away that the blast wasn’t fatal, but the shrapnel peppered the right side of his face and body, rendering his arm useless for the moment and his right eye completely shredded. Despite the injury, he dragged himself to the trench where his allies were positioned. Despite being maimed, Forrest demanded the he be allowed to fight, but was honorably discharged from the Army after the incident, and awarded a Purple Heart.
Forrest was not pleased. He had wanted to be a soldier until his death. He would’ve rather died than to abandon what he saw as his calling. For a while he spent his time in an apartment in Paris, drinking too much. But then, he had a thought.
The French Foreign Legion. The legion had a reputation of accepting anyone, regardless of their past. Forrest decided he would try and join the Legion. To do this he had his ruined eye removed, and replaced with one made of glass. He hid his disability from them, and soon was on his way to North Africa for training in the Pyrenees. Despite the loss of his eye, Forrest learned how to compensate for his loss of vision. His marksmanship scores were passing, and he was still in peak physical condition from his time in the US Army. The Legion’s training program was a lot more intensive than he expected, but he came through it. After he graduated from basic, he was shipped out to the Rif Mountains in Morocco to assist the Spanish in their war against the Berbers.
Forrest served in various capacities throughout the 1920’s and 30’s, being deployed with the Legion wherever it was called to protect French interests. Forrest had always thought that the work he did was to make the world a safer place for people, whether he was fighting an Imperial German Army or a group of insurrectionists. After rising in the ranks, he began going without his glass eye, opting instead for an eye patch. No one seemed to mind. In 1940, the French Army was defeated by the Wehrmacht, and France was considered occupied. There was a split in the Foreign Legion. Some stayed with the puppet government installed by the Nazis, and others fled, becoming part of the Free France government in exile. Forrest went with the latter. He now serves as a military attaché to the British Army in Europe.
Writing Sample:
The sun shone its first rays on the battlefield, casting a beautiful glow over the scarred landscape. The puddles of poisonous fluid that sprung up in the artillery craters reminded Forrest of being home again and seeing the sun rise over the lake at his uncle’s house. All was quiet for the moment. A stalemate had begun, with both the 3rd British Army and that of the German foe nestled in their trenches. One could almost forget that a ceasefire hadn’t been called, until some unlucky chap stood too tall above the trench and suddenly found their brains in their lap.
Forrest was sitting in his side of the trench, smoking a cigarette and enjoying the black muck that passed for coffee. It was hot, and that was good enough for Forrest. He wasn’t too picky. None of the other soldiers spoke, some of them were asleep. They all knew that when the artillery started again, they’d have plenty of time to yell and scream.
As if on cue, an artillery shell landed near the trench, blowing a hole in the dirt and flinging debris into the air. A loud cry erupted from across no-man’s land as the enemy began charging through the barbed wire towards the British and American forces. Forrest raised up out of the trench on instinct, dropping his coffee but keeping the cigarette planted firmly in his mouth. He raised his French-made Berthier Rifle to his shoulder and fired an already primed round towards the approaching German forces. He didn’t take the time to confirm the kill. He had to pick another target quickly, or risk being overwhelmed on his side of the trench. He aimed again, this time to a closer target, and fired. The round was in the air for a split second before opening up a German infantryman’s chest. He slid the bolt back, ejecting the cartridge, and ramming it back into position, loading another round . He fires again, and sees an approaching soldier in his peripheral vision. He tried to fire again, but the rifle jammed. Acting quickly, Forrest dropped the rifle and pulled his sidearm, an M1911A1. He took aim and fired a volley of rounds, pulling the trigger rapidly, downing the approaching German who pitched forward into the American trench, laying still on the wooden floorboards and quietly bleeding out. That was the only soldier who had made it to the American trench. The rest had retreated. Forrest slumped down and began smoking again, ready to repeat the same action until his CO ordered an assault.
Allegiance: Allies/Free France (French Foreign Legion)
Requested Rank: Corporal (Foreign Legion)
History: Forrest Campbell was born in the American South at the turn of the century. His father had been a Confederate Cavalry Officer, and his Grandfather had fought during the second British Invasion of 1812. The family had a martial tradition that allegedly stretched back beyond the founding of the country, but Forrest had never seen any proof of this claim beyond the service of his father and grandfather. His entire childhood, he had wanted to be a soldier in order to make the world a better place. It was more than a passing phase to Forrest. Growing up, he was regaled with tails from his father and Grandfather about their experiences in war, about the honor and strength that could only be found on the battlefield. These stories ultimately drove him to run away from home when the opportunity arose. Using forged documents that he had paid for with money from his job at a local textile mill, He enlisted in the United States Army at age 17. America had just declared war on Germany and Austria-Hungary.
Forrest was enlisted into the II Corps of the US Army, which was attached to the British Third Army. His early experience of the Great War left him completely unprepared for the battles that were to come. Trench warfare the most terrifying things that Forrest had ever faced. The constant threat of an artillery shell coming crashing down on you and your comrades left him always on edge. But at some point, something changed. Forrest had begun to see the death around him, and rather than freeze up and become a mental casualty, he chose to throw his all into every engagement, going over the top with almost reckless abandon. Forrest had found his element. By the time he fought in the Somme Campaign, Forrest had adapted to the life of a soldier under constant threat of annihilation. He felt that the conflict had made him into the man he had always wanted to be.
It was during the Somme Campaign that he was dealt a blow he didn’t know how he could recover from. An enemy grenade found its way near him as he advanced towards an opposing trench. It was far enough away that the blast wasn’t fatal, but the shrapnel peppered the right side of his face and body, rendering his arm useless for the moment and his right eye completely shredded. Despite the injury, he dragged himself to the trench where his allies were positioned. Despite being maimed, Forrest demanded the he be allowed to fight, but was honorably discharged from the Army after the incident, and awarded a Purple Heart.
Forrest was not pleased. He had wanted to be a soldier until his death. He would’ve rather died than to abandon what he saw as his calling. For a while he spent his time in an apartment in Paris, drinking too much. But then, he had a thought.
The French Foreign Legion. The legion had a reputation of accepting anyone, regardless of their past. Forrest decided he would try and join the Legion. To do this he had his ruined eye removed, and replaced with one made of glass. He hid his disability from them, and soon was on his way to North Africa for training in the Pyrenees. Despite the loss of his eye, Forrest learned how to compensate for his loss of vision. His marksmanship scores were passing, and he was still in peak physical condition from his time in the US Army. The Legion’s training program was a lot more intensive than he expected, but he came through it. After he graduated from basic, he was shipped out to the Rif Mountains in Morocco to assist the Spanish in their war against the Berbers.
Forrest served in various capacities throughout the 1920’s and 30’s, being deployed with the Legion wherever it was called to protect French interests. Forrest had always thought that the work he did was to make the world a safer place for people, whether he was fighting an Imperial German Army or a group of insurrectionists. After rising in the ranks, he began going without his glass eye, opting instead for an eye patch. No one seemed to mind. In 1940, the French Army was defeated by the Wehrmacht, and France was considered occupied. There was a split in the Foreign Legion. Some stayed with the puppet government installed by the Nazis, and others fled, becoming part of the Free France government in exile. Forrest went with the latter. He now serves as a military attaché to the British Army in Europe.
Writing Sample:
The sun shone its first rays on the battlefield, casting a beautiful glow over the scarred landscape. The puddles of poisonous fluid that sprung up in the artillery craters reminded Forrest of being home again and seeing the sun rise over the lake at his uncle’s house. All was quiet for the moment. A stalemate had begun, with both the 3rd British Army and that of the German foe nestled in their trenches. One could almost forget that a ceasefire hadn’t been called, until some unlucky chap stood too tall above the trench and suddenly found their brains in their lap.
Forrest was sitting in his side of the trench, smoking a cigarette and enjoying the black muck that passed for coffee. It was hot, and that was good enough for Forrest. He wasn’t too picky. None of the other soldiers spoke, some of them were asleep. They all knew that when the artillery started again, they’d have plenty of time to yell and scream.
As if on cue, an artillery shell landed near the trench, blowing a hole in the dirt and flinging debris into the air. A loud cry erupted from across no-man’s land as the enemy began charging through the barbed wire towards the British and American forces. Forrest raised up out of the trench on instinct, dropping his coffee but keeping the cigarette planted firmly in his mouth. He raised his French-made Berthier Rifle to his shoulder and fired an already primed round towards the approaching German forces. He didn’t take the time to confirm the kill. He had to pick another target quickly, or risk being overwhelmed on his side of the trench. He aimed again, this time to a closer target, and fired. The round was in the air for a split second before opening up a German infantryman’s chest. He slid the bolt back, ejecting the cartridge, and ramming it back into position, loading another round . He fires again, and sees an approaching soldier in his peripheral vision. He tried to fire again, but the rifle jammed. Acting quickly, Forrest dropped the rifle and pulled his sidearm, an M1911A1. He took aim and fired a volley of rounds, pulling the trigger rapidly, downing the approaching German who pitched forward into the American trench, laying still on the wooden floorboards and quietly bleeding out. That was the only soldier who had made it to the American trench. The rest had retreated. Forrest slumped down and began smoking again, ready to repeat the same action until his CO ordered an assault.