Post by Masterson on Jul 27, 2008 4:41:26 GMT
l'm afraid that there is an officer 'cooldown' in place at the moment, so we arn't giving out officer ranks for the moment. Please pick an enlisted rank.
~Dan
Accepted;
I've accepted you under the defualt rank of FLIGHT SERGEANT, due to the fact, there are no Pilots Ranked lower than this (based upon Enlisted terms).
~Danny
Account E-Mail: ccschmitt38@yahoo.com
Name: John C. Masterson (character's name)
Nationality: American
UK or US: United States
Character History:
Born in 1921 to an average household in the suburbs of Boston, MA, John Cecil Masterson spent most of his time either in school or playing ball at the nearby sandlot. As the star leftfielder for his high school baseball team, Masterson had a local fanbase going for him. He was considered by many as the All American Kid. His father, a veteran pilot of World War One, came home and ran a local drugstore and soda shop. Masterson's mother, a secretary at a local law firm. Despite the occasional disagreements, the Masterson home was absolute sound. Masterson's father would often take him to the local airstrip and rent decommissioned biplanes that saw service in the first World War. Masterson was hooked on flying and quickly became good at it. In 1941, just one month after his 20th birthday, the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor on December 7th. Angered, like most all Americans, Masterson didn't hesitate twice to enlist. He considered his options. After seeking advice from his father, he decided he too would become a pilot. Taking a train to Fort Thomas, Kentucky, Masterson became a cadet in the United States Army Air Corps. He scored well in both the written and flying portions of his time spent there. He was average when it came to physical exercise, but he became one of the more respected and notable members of his class. He flew such planes as the T-6 Texan and P-36 for training. It was decided by base command he'd serve best as a fighter pilot. On graduation day, Masterson was awarded the rank of Second Lieutenant and his pilot wings. Not long after, he recieved orders to ship out to England. Masterson would finally get the write his story in history of his assistance in the destruction of Nazi tyranny.
Military Rank: Second Lieutenant
Writing Sample:
Trying with all he has, Masterson smothers his own panting as best he can after hours of trying to find his way back to the front. Lost, confused, scared, and tired, he tries as quietly as possible to move through the brush and trees. He stays as low as possible, but with enough height to where he can still keep a consistant pace. He stops often, holding his breath, listening, looking... waiting. He holds his breath until he's about to passout before painfully and slowly exhaling to breath again. And then he moves out again. Each time the wind picks up, Masterson thinks that it will be his time. His time when his enemy will attack him from the hidden depths of the tree lines. Will it come quick? Will they make him feel pain? Will it come at all? All this occupided Masterson's mind as he contiued to creep and crawl through the thick forest of France. He stopped once again, the wind was picking up. This time louder than usual. He froze still. Held his breath, and then he heard it. Footsteps. They were loud, hard, and getting closer. But where from? The wind carried the sound all around his ears. He kept looking in every possible direction, but whenever he'd look where the sound was coming from, it'll reappear somewhere else. His heart racing, his adrenaline flowing, he fixed in on the steps. Eager to attack his attacker, he made ready his bayonet. He knew this was it. He was going to have to kill or be killed. The sound got louder, his attacker drew closer. Masterson was sweating profusely now. Panting, stuttering his own breath. There it was! A silloutte of a man, coming through the brush! Masterson jumped to his feet and prepared to charge the figure. But before he could, he froze and looked on in confusion. Out from the brush came a fellow paratrooper. The paratrooper raised his helmet calmly and gave Masterson a look up and down, seeing how scared and exhausted he was. "We've been looking for your Masterson. What's the matter? Didn't they teach you how to jump at Benning?" With a large sigh of relief, Masterson smiled and walked over to the fellow paratrooper, his heart still racing.
~Dan
Accepted;
I've accepted you under the defualt rank of FLIGHT SERGEANT, due to the fact, there are no Pilots Ranked lower than this (based upon Enlisted terms).
~Danny
Account E-Mail: ccschmitt38@yahoo.com
Name: John C. Masterson (character's name)
Nationality: American
UK or US: United States
Character History:
Born in 1921 to an average household in the suburbs of Boston, MA, John Cecil Masterson spent most of his time either in school or playing ball at the nearby sandlot. As the star leftfielder for his high school baseball team, Masterson had a local fanbase going for him. He was considered by many as the All American Kid. His father, a veteran pilot of World War One, came home and ran a local drugstore and soda shop. Masterson's mother, a secretary at a local law firm. Despite the occasional disagreements, the Masterson home was absolute sound. Masterson's father would often take him to the local airstrip and rent decommissioned biplanes that saw service in the first World War. Masterson was hooked on flying and quickly became good at it. In 1941, just one month after his 20th birthday, the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor on December 7th. Angered, like most all Americans, Masterson didn't hesitate twice to enlist. He considered his options. After seeking advice from his father, he decided he too would become a pilot. Taking a train to Fort Thomas, Kentucky, Masterson became a cadet in the United States Army Air Corps. He scored well in both the written and flying portions of his time spent there. He was average when it came to physical exercise, but he became one of the more respected and notable members of his class. He flew such planes as the T-6 Texan and P-36 for training. It was decided by base command he'd serve best as a fighter pilot. On graduation day, Masterson was awarded the rank of Second Lieutenant and his pilot wings. Not long after, he recieved orders to ship out to England. Masterson would finally get the write his story in history of his assistance in the destruction of Nazi tyranny.
Military Rank: Second Lieutenant
Writing Sample:
Trying with all he has, Masterson smothers his own panting as best he can after hours of trying to find his way back to the front. Lost, confused, scared, and tired, he tries as quietly as possible to move through the brush and trees. He stays as low as possible, but with enough height to where he can still keep a consistant pace. He stops often, holding his breath, listening, looking... waiting. He holds his breath until he's about to passout before painfully and slowly exhaling to breath again. And then he moves out again. Each time the wind picks up, Masterson thinks that it will be his time. His time when his enemy will attack him from the hidden depths of the tree lines. Will it come quick? Will they make him feel pain? Will it come at all? All this occupided Masterson's mind as he contiued to creep and crawl through the thick forest of France. He stopped once again, the wind was picking up. This time louder than usual. He froze still. Held his breath, and then he heard it. Footsteps. They were loud, hard, and getting closer. But where from? The wind carried the sound all around his ears. He kept looking in every possible direction, but whenever he'd look where the sound was coming from, it'll reappear somewhere else. His heart racing, his adrenaline flowing, he fixed in on the steps. Eager to attack his attacker, he made ready his bayonet. He knew this was it. He was going to have to kill or be killed. The sound got louder, his attacker drew closer. Masterson was sweating profusely now. Panting, stuttering his own breath. There it was! A silloutte of a man, coming through the brush! Masterson jumped to his feet and prepared to charge the figure. But before he could, he froze and looked on in confusion. Out from the brush came a fellow paratrooper. The paratrooper raised his helmet calmly and gave Masterson a look up and down, seeing how scared and exhausted he was. "We've been looking for your Masterson. What's the matter? Didn't they teach you how to jump at Benning?" With a large sigh of relief, Masterson smiled and walked over to the fellow paratrooper, his heart still racing.
Then you can either keep this account or delete it.
