Excalibur Squadron OOC 2: The Song Remains the Same

[The Tiger Kingdom]

Sweet fancy Moses.

I'd watch that.

On a related note, in high school the principal wanted my lit class to put on a play about Elie Wiesel's Night (yes, I blame Oprah), of course I said "fuck this Oprah bullshit, leave me out". But after we started rehearsals during class, I volunteered to be an SS trooper because the people who were playing SS troopers sucked at it. Long story short, I found out later in Spanish class that some of them thought that I was so convincing in the role that they thought I wasn't actually acting, and my (Jewish) Spanish teacher even agreed.

Yeah, people these days are afraid to really go full Nazi.
...On an unrelated note, where were you during the War, TJ?

[Grenartia]

Some of my friends and I had to make a musical for art class once. We ended up doing a shitty redo of SPR. The guy we originally planned to play the (only) Nazi had a death in the family, so I had to play the Nazi, gunning down my friends with a broomstick while singing "Another One Bites the Dust". At the end I got blown up with a pineapple grenade (I actually bought it from the WWII museum in New Orleans, it had been deactivated) while everybody else was singing "Mama I'm Coming Home". It was so bad it was good.

Sweet fancy Moses.

Indeed. I wish I had my grenade, still. But its down in Louisiana. Couldn't bring it with me on the flight up here, obviously. And yet it still almost got me in trouble at school, because I accidentally left my phone in the cafeteria, and my wallpaper was a pic of the grenade in my hand. I had to spend 15 minutes convincing the principal and the SRO that in fact, no, it was not an active grenade, I didn't have it on me, and it wasn't even in the state.

Sweet fancy Moses.

I'd watch that.

On a related note, in high school the principal wanted my lit class to put on a play about Elie Wiesel's Night (yes, I blame Oprah), of course I said "fuck this Oprah bullshit, leave me out". But after we started rehearsals during class, I volunteered to be an SS trooper because the people who were playing SS troopers sucked at it. Long story short, I found out later in Spanish class that some of them thought that I was so convincing in the role that they thought I wasn't actually acting, and my (Jewish) Spanish teacher even agreed.

I wish I had the video. But the guy who burned the video onto a DVD didn't want it to see the light of day once we turned it in.

[Eridanus 3]

Name: Ingvar DeAnsel
Age: 28
Rank: Flying Officer
Physical Description/Picture: A blond Dick Winters from BoB, with a more round face... I had a picture but it wouldn't load in right...
Country of Origin: Canada
Flight/Flight Combat Experience (MANDATORY): Flew in the German invasion of France, 1941.
Ground Combat Experience: Fought on the ground in the Spanish Civil War. Flew for the BEF in France.
Specialties (air or ground - communications, demolitions, disguises, languages, etc.): Fluent in Norwegian and German.
Weapons of Choice: #4 Mk. 1 Lee-Enfield.
RP Experience: Mass Effect Factions (reboot)
UNSC Night of Lunar Reckoning
Personal History/Bio (more than one line please): Born in Olso Norway before the Great War, his family fled to Canada in 1914, hoping to get away from the fighting. He was an actor at heart, and was one of the more popular kids in school. He graduated from his Toronto high school in 1929, and went to College in Quebec. He got an aviator's lisence in 1930, and graduated with a masters in psychology in 1933. He joined the RNAF Reserves in 1934. He then went on to fight for the Republicans in Spain during 1936, and left the fight in 1938. He was then transfered to France, where he flew sorties in Dewoitine, Hurricane, and Spitfire aircraft. He has now applied to transfer into 319 (Excalibur Squadron).

[Nightkill the Emperor]

College in Quebec.

You sure it's a college? Colleges aren't the same as universities in Canada.

[Len Hyet]

So...I guess we're both just sort of sitting here in the fire, then.

So um... You comfortable?

[Goram]

Flew in the German invasion of France, 1941.

Oh wow. I hope that's a typo. I really, really do.

EDIT: Why is a Canadian in the RNAF, and you most certainly did not fly a Spitfire in France on account of there not being any Spitfires in France.

[Eridanus 3]

College in Quebec.

You sure it's a college? Colleges aren't the same as universities in Canada.

Or in the USA. But I don't know of any Canadian Universities.

[Nightkill the Emperor]

You sure it's a college? Colleges aren't the same as universities in Canada.

Or in the USA. But I don't know of any Canadian Universities.

Bad idea to have a Canadian character then.

There's many Canadian unis, McGill is one.

[Eridanus 3]

Flew in the German invasion of France, 1941.

Oh wow. I hope that's a typo. I really, really do.

EDIT: Why is a Canadian in the RNAF, and you most certainly did not fly a Spitfire in France on account of there not being any Spitfires in France.

I will make him British, get rid of the Spitfire, and fix the grammar error.
Apologies on the weak post.

[The balkens]

I'd watch that.

On a related note, in high school the principal wanted my lit class to put on a play about Elie Wiesel's Night (yes, I blame Oprah), of course I said "fuck this Oprah bullshit, leave me out". But after we started rehearsals during class, I volunteered to be an SS trooper because the people who were playing SS troopers sucked at it. Long story short, I found out later in Spanish class that some of them thought that I was so convincing in the role that they thought I wasn't actually acting, and my (Jewish) Spanish teacher even agreed.

Yeah, people these days are afraid to really go full Nazi.
...On an unrelated note, where were you during the War, TJ?

Where were You during the war?

[Eridanus 3]

Name: Ingvar DeAnsel
Age: 28
Rank: Flying Officer
Physical Description/Picture: A blond Dick Winters from BoB, with a more round face... I had a picture but it wouldn't load in right...
Country of Origin: Norway/Britain
Flight/Flight Combat Experience (MANDATORY): He flew in the German blitzkrieg invasion of France in 1940.
Ground Combat Experience: Fought on the ground in the Spanish Civil War. Flew for the BEF in France.
Specialties (air or ground - communications, demolitions, disguises, languages, etc.): Fluent in Norwegian and German.
Weapons of Choice: #4 Mk. 1 Lee-Enfield.
RP Experience: Mass Effect Factions (reboot)
UNSC Night of Lunar Reckoning
Personal History/Bio (more than one line please): Born in Olso Norway before the Great War, his family moved to Britain in 1914, hoping to get away from the German war machine. He was an actor at heart, and was one of the more popular kids in his school. He graduated from his Hereford high school in 1929, and went to the University of Cambridge. He got an aviator's license in 1930, and graduated with a masters in psychology in 1933. He joined the RAF Reserves in 1934. He then went on to fight for the Republicans in Spain during 1936, and left the fight in 1938. He was then transferred to France, where he flew sorties in Dewoitine, and Hurricane aircraft. He has now applied to transfer into 319 (Excalibur Squadron).

[Le-Quebec]

Hey guys, I just out that a 319th Special Operations Squadron actually exists to this day; it's actually operated by the United States however, and serves as one of USSOCOM's (US Special Operations Command) air assets. They seem to be primarily a transport unit, as their flown planes typically performed insertion, resupply, and extraction missions while other air units were tasked with more aggressive roles.

Wikipedia:

The 319th Special Operations Squadron was first formed on 9 August 1944 as the 319th Troop Carrier Squadron (Commando) and served in the China-Burma-India Theater during World War II. It provided airlift support and flew aerial resupply missions in support of various commando units such as Merrill's Marauders and the Chindits and conducted airborne drops and glider operations for Allied troops in Burma, central China, and French Indochina in the last year of World War II. Over the next quarter century it was inactivated, reactivated, and redesignated on a number of occasions until it was inactivated (as the 319th Special Operations Squadron) on 15 January 1972 as part of the post-Vietnam War demobilization.

On 1 October 2005 it was reactivated again as part of an overall enlargement of the United States Special Operations Command. Its mission is to provide intra-theater support for special operations forces and it is currently equipped with the U-28A, a modified version of the Pilatus PC-12. The U-28A was selected for its versatile performance and ability to operate from short and unimproved runway surfaces.

USAF Website:

The 319th Special Operations Squadron (SOS) mission is to provide intra-theater support for special operations forces. To accomplish the mission, they use the U-28A, a variation of the Pilatus PC-12. The aircraft has a crew of two, but can be flown by one pilot. The plane was selected for its versatile performance and ability to operate from short and unimproved runway surfaces. It's certified to land on dirt and grass strips, and is equipped with weather radar and a suite of advanced communications and navigation gear.

An additional thing I must say is that while the (fictitious) RAF 319 features the Arthurian sword Excalibur as an emblem, the real-life U.S squadron has a medieval dragon and stallion.

[Kouralia]

You sure it's a college? Colleges aren't the same as universities in Canada.

Or in the USA. But I don't know of any Canadian Universities.

York University

[Kouralia]

Oh, TK, if Smythe's rank is incorrect, should it be changed?

...Is it incorrect? I thought you were just sort of idly planning to promote him.

Nah, by his Regiment, he's actually Colour Serjeant I believe.

[The Tiger Kingdom]

Yeah, people these days are afraid to really go full Nazi.
...On an unrelated note, where were you during the War, TJ?

Where were You during the war?

Where were you? I don't have to answer any questions here.

And yeah, the 319 Squadron connection has been pointed out before - it's a total coincidence, which is pretty weird. Somebody just did some research a very long time ago and discovered that the 319 designation had been created but never used by the RAF, and we just kinda went with it.

Name: Ingvar DeAnsel
Age: 28
Rank: Flying Officer
Physical Description/Picture: A blond Dick Winters from BoB, with a more round face... I had a picture but it wouldn't load in right...
Country of Origin: Norway/Britain
Flight/Flight Combat Experience (MANDATORY): He flew in the German blitzkrieg invasion of France in 1940.
Ground Combat Experience: Fought on the ground in the Spanish Civil War. Flew for the BEF in France.
Specialties (air or ground - communications, demolitions, disguises, languages, etc.): Fluent in Norwegian and German.
Weapons of Choice: #4 Mk. 1 Lee-Enfield.
RP Experience: Mass Effect Factions (reboot)
UNSC Night of Lunar Reckoning
Personal History/Bio (more than one line please): Born in Olso Norway before the Great War, his family moved to Britain in 1914, hoping to get away from the German war machine. He was an actor at heart, and was one of the more popular kids in his school. He graduated from his Hereford high school in 1929, and went to the University of Cambridge. He got an aviator's license in 1930, and graduated with a masters in psychology in 1933. He joined the RAF Reserves in 1934. He then went on to fight for the Republicans in Spain during 1936, and left the fight in 1938. He was then transferred to France, where he flew sorties in Dewoitine, and Hurricane aircraft. He has now applied to transfer into 319 (Excalibur Squadron).

Unforunately, we're really, really full right now, and I don't think we have space for you atm. I'd advise you try again later.

...Is it incorrect? I thought you were just sort of idly planning to promote him.

Nah, by his Regiment, he's actually Colour Serjeant I believe.

Well, I'm going to be spelling "Sergeant" right, for the record...

[Kouralia]

Nah, by his Regiment, he's actually Colour Serjeant I believe.

Well, I'm going to be spelling "Sergeant" right, for the record...

So... You're going to incorrectly spell a rank of the British Light Infantry, which is spelled in such manner even today in the elite Rifle Regiment of the British Army, based on the spelling conventions of the military of a foreign nation?

What's next, 'Sergeants Major'? D:

[The Tiger Kingdom]

Well, I'm going to be spelling "Sergeant" right, for the record...

So... You're going to incorrectly spell a rank of the British Light Infantry, which is spelled in such manner even today in the elite Rifle Regiment of the British Army, based on the spelling conventions of the military of a foreign nation?

I never said it was a foreign nation - I'm pretty sure other parts of the British military can spell "Sergeant" correctly.
hashtag truthhurts

What's next, 'Sergeants Major'? D:

MAYBE.

[Kouralia]

So... You're going to incorrectly spell a rank of the British Light Infantry, which is spelled in such manner even today in the elite Rifle Regiment of the British Army, based on the spelling conventions of the military of a foreign nation?

I never said it was a foreign nation - I'm pretty sure other parts of the British military can spell "Sergeant" correctly.
hashtag truthhurts

#IncorrectSpellingDueToArchaicUseByRifleRegiments

[Morrdh]

Service # 411257 Fodder, C.                                                          Page  1   of  4 

RECORD OF PERSONNEL - CONFIDENTIAL
for Air Ministry internal use ONLY

Name:  FODDER, Charles                  Service Number:  411257 
Date of Birth:  10th   October      19 14     Place of Birth:  Shoreditch, London            
Gender:  Male     Height: 5 ft.  7 in.    Weight:  11 st.  0 lb.
Choose: Male, Female        Round to nearest inch               Round to nearest pound
Hair:  Brown (Dark)                   Eyes:  Hazel               
Note details and variations in shade/colour in parentheses
Nationality:  British Subject (United Kingdom)                                                         
Permanent Residence:  On Base (RAF Tempsford)                                                 
Marital Status:  Single, Unmarried     No. of Dependents, [No. of Dependent Minors]:  0 , [ 0 ]
Choose: Single unmarried, Single divorced, Married, Widower/Widowed
Addendum & Erratum:  N/A                                                  
                                                                                                                

Date of Enlistment:  9th   May      19 33 
Place of Enlistment:  RAF Recruiting Office, Henrietta Street, London                                                 
Branch:  Regular RAF, transferred to SOE on joining squadron                                                              
Choose: Regular R.A.F., Auxiliary, Women's Auxiliary, Volunteer Reserve, Medical Services, P.M.R.A.F.N.S., Other (list details)
Rank & Date of Seniority:  Aircraftman, 5th June 1933; Leading Aircraftman, 21st September 1933; Corporal, 22th May, 1934;
    Sergeant, 29th May 1934; Flight Sergeant, 12th November 1939; Flying Officer, 25th November 1940                        
Date of Separation:  -    -          19 -  
Reason for Separation:  -                                                                       
Choose: Expiration of enlistment term, Retirement, General demobilization, Hardship/Medical grounds, Disciplinary action,
    Resignation of commission, Other (list details)

Service # 411257 FODDER, C.                                                           Page  2   of  4 


UNIT POSTINGS:


- RAF Central Depot Uxbridge, 6th June 1933
- Flying Training School RAF Grantham, 22th August 1933.
- School of Army Co-operation RAF Old Sarum, 30th May 1934.
- No. 30 Squadron (RAF Hinaidi), 30th January 1935.
- No. 2 Squadron (RAF Hawkinge), 22nd June 1938.
- No. 85 Squadron (Lille Seclin Airfield, France), 12th May 1940.
- No. 319 'Excalibur' Squadron (RAF Tempsford), 3rd September 1940.
- No. 604 Squadron (RAF Middle Wallop), 21st October 1940. -Detachment
- No. 319 'Excalibur' Squadron (RAF Tempsford), 6th December 1940. -Returned

AWARDS, DECORATIONS, HONOURS, ETC.:


- Pilot Brevet, 8th March 1934; Distinguished Flying Medal, 17th June 1940.

DISCIPLINARY RECORD:


- 26 July - 20 September 1933; Minor breaches of discipline reported during recruit training, punished with fines and one instance of 
being Confined to Camp.

TRAINING & QUALIFICATIONS:


- Recruit training: RAF Central Depot Uxbridge.
- Elementary and advance flight training: Flying Training School RAF Grantham.
- Army Co-operation Course: RAF Old Sarum
- Type qualifications: de Havilland TIGER MOTH (21th November, 1933), Hawker HART TRAINER (22nd May, 1934),
Hawker AUDAX (30th November, 1934), Westland WAPITI (4th February, 1935), Hawker HARDY (9th May, 1935), 
Westland LYSANDER (20th July 1938), Hawker HURRICANE (13th May, 1940), Supermarine SPITFIRE (10th September, 1940), 
Bristol BLENHEIM (28th October, 1940), Bristol BEAUFIGHTER (11th November, 1940)

Service # 411257 FODDER, C.                                                             Page  3   of  4 


SERVICE RECORD:


- 9 May, 1933: Enlisted into R.A.F at London; posted to RAF Central Depot Uxbridge for Recruit Training with rank of Aircraftman, 
effective 5th June, 1933.
- 2 August, 1933: Completed Recruit Training; posted to Flying Training School RAF Grantham with rank of Leading Aircraftman.
- 22 May, 1934: Passed elementary and advance flight training, awarded Pilot Brevet and promoted to Corporal.
- 29 May, 1934; Promoted to rank of Sergeant and posted to School of Army Co-operation RAF Old Sarum, effective 30th May, 1934.
- 30 November, 1934: Passed Army Co-operation Course; posted to No. 30 Squadron at RAF Hinaidi, Iraq.
- 20 October, 1936: Moved with No. 30 Squadron to RAF Dhibban, Iraq.
- 16 May, 1938: Transferred to No. 2 Squadron at RAF Hawkinge, effective 21st June 1938.
- 29 September, 1939: Deployed with No. 2 Squadron to Abbeville Aerodrome, France, effective 28th September, 1939.
- 12 November, 1939: Promoted to Flight Sergeant.
- 10 May, 1940: Deployed to Wevelgem Airfield.
- 11 May, 1940: Westland LYSANDER flown by F/Sgt FODDER shot down by Messerschmitt BF 109, F/Sgt FODDER survived.
- 12 May, 1940: Posted as replacement pilot to No. 85 Squadron at Lille Seclin Airfield.
- 13 May - 21 May, 1940: SIX (6) confirmed aerial victories credited to F/Sgt FODDER.
- 22 May, 1940: Evacuated from France with No. 85 Squadron to RAF Debden, England.
- 17 June, 1940: Awarded Distinguished Flying Medal for actions during May 1940.
- 19 August, 1940: Posted with No. 85 Squadron to RAF Croydon.
- 20 August - 1 September, 1940: SEVEN (7) confirmed aerial victories credited to F/Sgt FODDER.
- 2 September, 1940: Transferred to No. 319 'Excalibur' Squadron at RAF Tempsford.
- 3 September, 1940: F/Sgt FODDER assigned with Excalibur to undertake Operation CAMBYSES. ONE (1) confirmed aerial victory credited to 
F/Sgt FODDER during this operation.
- 21 October, 1940: Detached to No. 604 Squadron at RAF Middle Wallop for flight training on Bristol BEAUFIGHTER nightfighter.
- 14 November, 1940: First nightfighter sortie, ONE (1) He 111 claimed destroyed over Bromley. Later verified and confirmed.
- 19 November, 1940: F/Sgt FODDER and Observer Sgt RANKIN assigned to Operation POACHER, objective was to locate and destroy 
transport carrying a high level German commander. Mission objective was successfully achieved, though F/Sgt FODDER and Sgt RANKIN
were shot down by a German nightfighter. Both were rescued by French Underground agents, though Sgt RANKIN defected to the Germans
and is now considered a traitor to King and Country. F/Sgt FODDER was brought back to England via the assistance of the French 
Underground.
- 24 November, 1940: Returned to No. 319 'Excalibur' Squadron after detachment to No. 604 Squadron ends.
- 25 November, 1940: Promoted to rank of Flying Officer.
- 28 December, 1940: Assigned with Excalibur squadron to Operation HIGHWIRE.

Service # 411257 FODDER, C.                                                            Page  4   of  4 


MISCELLANEOUS NOTES:


- N/A

Stories & Downtime

Sabres In The Night, Part I
Sabres In The Night, Part II
Sabres In The Night, Part III
Sabres In The Night, Part IV
Sabres In The Night, Part V
Sabres In The Night, Part VI

Setting Of The Sun, Part I
Setting Of The Sun, Part II
Setting Of The Sun, Part III

On A Wing And A Prayer, Part I
On A Wing And A Prayer, Part II
On A Wing And A Prayer, Part III
On A Wing And A Prayer, Part IV
On A Wing And A Prayer, Part V
On A Wing And A Prayer, Part VI

Baghdad Days, Part I

[Morrdh]

Service # 422504 WADDOCK, K.I.                                                           Page  1   of  4 

RECORD OF PERSONNEL - CONFIDENTIAL
for Air Ministry internal use ONLY

Name:  WADDOCK, Kaya Irene                  Service Number:  422504 
Date of Birth:  25th   April      19 20     Place of Birth:  Longreach, Queensland, Australia 
Gender:  Female     Height:  5 ft.  4 in.    Weight:  7 st.  5 lb.
Choose: Male, Female        Round to nearest inch               Round to nearest pound
Hair:  Dark                   Eyes:  Green               
Note details and variations in shade/colour in parentheses
Nationality:  British Subject (Australia)                                                         
Permanent Residence:  On Base (RAF Tempsford)                                                  
Marital Status:  Single (Unmarried)     No. of Dependents, [No. of Dependent Minors]:  0 , [ 0 ]
Choose: Single unmarried, Single divorced, Married, Widower/Widowed
Addendum & Erratum:  N/A                                                  
                                                                       


Date of Enlistment:  3rd   July      19 39 
Place of Enlistment:  Victory House, Kingsway, London                                                
Branch:  Women's Auxiliary (Flight Mechanic)                                                              
Choose: Regular R.A.F., Auxiliary, Women's Auxiliary, Volunteer Reserve, Medical Services, P.M.R.A.F.N.S., Other (list details)
Rank & Date of Seniority:  Aircraftwoman 2nd Class 3rd July 1939, Aircraftwoman 1st Class 7th August 1939, 
 Corporal 17th June 1940                                                                                    
Date of Separation:  -    -          19 -  
Reason for Separation:  -                                                                       
Choose: Expiration of enlistment term, Retirement, General demobilization, Hardship/Medical grounds, Disciplinary action,
    Resignation of commission, Other (list details)

Service # 422504 WADDOCK, K.I.                                                          Page  2   of  4 


UNIT POSTINGS:

- WAAF Depot (RAF West Drayton), 19th July 1939 
- No. 1 School of Technical Training (RAF Halton), 9th August 1939
- Maintenance Detachment (RAF Sutton Bridge), 10th January 1940
- No. 319 Squadron Maintenance Section (RAF Tempsford), 4th September 1940

AWARDS, DECORATIONS, HONOURS, ETC.:


- Albert Medal, May 17th 1940

DISCIPLINARY RECORD:


- 12th February, 1940: Report lodged by the Sutton Bridge Police Force that CPL. WADDOCK had been involved in a 
disturbance at the New Inn public house on the night of Saturday 10th February and had been arrested by local 
civilian police along with members of the Women's Land Army. After spending the night in a police cell CPL. WADDOCK 
was handed over to RAF Police Flight, Sutton Bridge and the matter reported to the Station Commander of RAF Sutton 
Bridge. CPL. WADDOCK was 'put on jankers' and Confined to Camp for a period of seven days.

TRAINING & QUALIFICATIONS:


- Prior to 1939 received tuition from father in aircraft engines and rifle handling.
- Completed two weeks' basic training at WAAF Depot, RAF West Drayton.
- Completed 18 weeks' Technical Training at RAF Halton.

Service # 422504 WADDOCK, K.I.                                                           Page  3   of  4 


SERVICE RECORD:


- 3 July, 1939: Enlisted into WAAF at Victory House, Kingsway, London; posted to WAAF Depot RAF West Drayton with 
rank of Aircraftwoman 2nd Class, 19th July 1939.
- 2 August 1939: Completes basic training and promoted to Aircraftwoman 1st Class, effective 3rd August 1939.
- 9 August 1939: Posted to No. 1 School of Technical Training, RAF Halton.
- 13 December, 1939: Completes technical training at RAF Halton, given leave over Christmas.
- 10 January, 1940: Posted to Maintenance Detachment, RAF Sutton Bridge.
- 12 February, 1940: Confined to Camp - see disciplinary record.
- 9 May, 1940: Rescued aircrew from a Fairey BATTLE that had crashed landed following a training flight, 
commended for her actions by the Station Commander.
- 17 May, 1940: CPL. WADDOCK awarded the Albert Medal for her actions on 9th May 1940.
- 17 June, 1940: Promoted to rank of Corporal, effective 18th June 1940.
- 4 September, 1940: Transferred to No. 319 Squadron Maintenance Section, transfer effective 5th September 1940.
- 11November, 1940; Assigned with Excalibur Squadron to Operation TAURUS.
- 28 December, 1940: Assigned to Operation HIGHWIRE.

Service # 422504 WADDOCK, K.I.                                                           Page  4   of  4 


MISCELLANEOUS NOTES:


- CPL. WADDOCK received training from her father, a mechanic in the Australian Flying Corps during the Great War, 
in rifle handling and as a mechanic. This was noticed during her service training and instructors stated that she 
was a 'gifted' mechanic.

- Observations on physical health (20/7/39) - aside from obvious below average height, Recruit WADDOCK is in 
perfect health. There is great reason to tribute her somewhat stunted growth to her background and upbringing, 
interview with Recruit WADDOCK reveals that her family was barely able to feed itself during much of her 
childhood. It is also understood that Recruit WADDOCK suffered from a number of tropical diseases as a child, 
though this has left no obvious negative effect on her life and may even mean she has a stronger immunity to 
such diseases which may prove be of benefit should she see service Overseas.

[Kassaran]

So yeah, um, Tiger. I think someone might be doing an homage to Charlie in another RP I'm in. Check out "Better Men & Lesser Gods".

[Morrdh]

So yeah, um, Tiger. I think someone might be doing an homage to Charlie in another RP I'm in. Check out "Better Men & Lesser Gods".

Could you link the post please?

Basically click the mini 'paper' like symbol in the top left of the post and then copy-paste the link.

[Kassaran]

You have my sword, and my bow,

Nation Name: Constaniana
Character Name: Charles Malcolm Gordon
Aliases: The Glacier of Garscadden, an alias one of his grandchildren invented for him, Old Juggernaut, an alias popularized by the media, Sergeant Jerryshooterandpuncher, his own personal alias, and his personal favourite later bestowed upon him by a superhuman chav "Old Man Smash-your-bloody-head-with-his-feckin'-cane".
Age: 104
Gender/Sex: Male
Appearance: Link. The only things that might possibly be considered a costume for him is his old army uniform or his Glasgow Rangers jersey he wears on Saturdays. Dressing up in loony skimpy costumes is for drugged up chavs and queer continentals in his opinion.
Powers:
Superhuman toughness: After the Unluckiest Friday Charles found himself with more toughness than the grizzled old Glaswegian had previously thought possible, making him able to shrug off things ranging all the way from knives and punches to bricks heaved at him and tank rounds. He is also able to temporarily transfer this unbelievable durability to objects he's in contact with, allowing him to turn his old wooden cane into a concrete-shattering death-hammer.
Superhuman strength: Not his most prevalent power, but Charles is able to put much, much more force behind his punches and cane swings than should be possible for a man who's more than a century old. This seems to be all his super strength is applicable to, as he can't do things like lift cars or toss boulders with one hand.
Unyielding stamina: Now, Charles Gordon is a very old man. He has to walk with a cane. He is very slow on his feet. The act of running makes all his bones sore. But he can walk. Have you ever heard of Cliff Young? Multiply that man's stamina by ten and you have a rough idea of this superpower. Charles can go for weeks, even months without sleeping, walking the whole time, though he generally avoids doing so. Back in his day granddads were supposed to take naps and snore loudly, so he fulfils one of his obligations to society often. The downside to his power is that he's unable to go above that speed for more than ten seconds at a time without collapsing and wheezing for a good while afterwards.
Personality: Surly, foul-mouthed, grumpy, prejudiced, bitter, aggressive, belligerent, racist, though he has a small soft side for his family and remaining war friends/old people he takes a liking to. It can be rather sweet seeing him sit and tell stories to children, until you notice the story is about how he once killed three Germans in The War with an empty tin of baked beans.
Biography: Charles was born to a working-class family in Glasgow on September 2nd, 1924. His favourite Granddad had fought for the British Army during the Boer Wars, and the young Charles loved hearing his tales of war and adventure, instilling a part of his personality that would be a huge influence later in his life. As he grew up many people noticed Charles was a bit different from his classmates. Some put it fairly politely as "The lad needs a good paddling and stronger discipline in order to develop into a decent member of society". Others put it more crudely as "The lad's a feckin' demon; he punched my nose in again and snapped one of my damn ribs". The belligerent Glaswegian child found schoolwork boring, considering almost nothing but poems and rubbish. He managed to do decent in history, as well as science whenever the topic being discussed was something that could be used for making explosives or guns.

When the Second World War came around Charles immediately began trying to enlist, despite being underage. In 1941 he finally seemed old enough to go fight the Nazis (He was 17 upon enlistment). His first deployment was to North Africa, where he gladly fought against the Italians and Germans and made the first of his war friends. One that stood out in particular was Hamish Cauleeroy, a burly giant from Aberdeen who was one of the few men Charles ever met that he couldn't beat in a boxing match. The two became fast friends, and Hamish was Charles's first and only instructor in car mechanics, the career he would later take up in his civilian life. He gleefully participated in the Italian campaign after the conclusion of the North African campaign, though he later became somewhat disappointing when he heard that the fighting was more intense in France, as it meant there were more jerries to kill over there.

After the war ended he returned to Glasgow and got a job fixing cars. He married a nice lassie named Mary Strachmish in 1946 and their first child, Malcolm Winston Gordon was born soon afterwards. To the general surprise of nearly everyone he had ever met Charles turned out to be a loving husband and a devoted father, having another son named Charles Hamish Gordon and a daughter named Irene Mary Gordon with his wife. His children have fond memories of their childhoods with him, though parts of those memories include things like the times their dad would demonstrate how to best knock a man out with a punch if they were attacked on the streets. He opened up his very own car garage in 1951, which he kept for years. For a while after that nothing too earth-shattering occurred, with his children growing up and starting families of their own. When the Falklands War began he was ready to go kill Argies as much as he had been ready to kill Huns in 1941, but his wife (and his age, not that Charles would ever admit that) prevented him from going over. Mary died in November of 2016 at the age of 88, leaving Charles heartbroken. It was the first time in more than 90 years that he had cried. He returned to the work of fixing cars, which he had retired from a few decades before, at the same garage he had opened and Malcolm had been running since his retirement. Charles had a bit more difficulty with it compared to when he had retired, as he had acquired the need to use a cane at times for support, but the old man managed with sheer determination and an enormous amount of profanity.

Charles isn't quite sure what happened on the 13 of October, 2017. He suspects several stupid layabouts who weren't raised properly tried robbing him on the way to the post office and he head-butted them all so hard he damaged a small part of his brain that held the memory of what he did that day. This idea vexes him greatly, as he head-butted many Italians during The War without receiving such embarrassing injuries. Charles discovered his new-found powers the next day when a street thug who had also acquired superhuman abilities, pyrokinesis and slightly advanced regeneration, tried robbing him at night. Charles responded as you might expect him to: punching the stupid git. The thug was beaten into a coma in less than five seconds by a 93-year-old man with a cane. Charles thought nothing of it and continued on his way to the shop he had been heading to and continued going about his ordinary life as best he could, though he continued thrashing thugs that attacked him.

Eventually he was identified and caught on film, though there was generally no retaliation against him at first, as he was regarded as too high-risk a target to engage. As time went on however, and anti-superhuman opinion began spreading the authorities actually made efforts to at least arrest him and charge him for various assaults and being a public menace, but none were too fruitful. Various superhuman criminal organizations also began putting bounties on his head, as he was becoming aware of his true superhuman potential and his capacity to fight another noble war, not against the Nazis this time, but the degenerate criminal scum that plagued the world. He began going after gangs in Glasgow, sweeping them aside with incredible ease when he finally caught up with them. Things eventually got so bad for the Glaswegian underworld that they made what was considered a suicidal move: attacking Charles's family. The criminal coalition had planned on kidnapping Malcolm, Hamish and Mary Gordon and their families while they were celebrating the fourth birthday of Hamish's first grandson, as they had found out Charles was at home sick and unable to make it to the party. But Charles, tough old git he was, had turned up anyway, slipping past the surveillance around his home without even realizing it was there, as an idealistic young superhuman inspired by Charles had spotted them acting suspiciously and drove them away.

When the hired thugs broke into the house prepared to kidnap a group of unsuspecting people they were surprised to see their dreaded enemy sitting at the table along with their targets, wearing a conical party hat and smiling. The smile did not last on the old man's face. He threw his party hat at one assailant, knocking him unconscious, and used a few spoons to dispatch of the next few before properly standing up and literally kicking the remaining shock troops out of the house. Charles's criminal enemies had come prepared though, as more and more criminals hoping to seize the fortune offered for killing the Old Juggernaut had come to assist in the operation, possibly anticipating such circumstances as were now occurring. One criminal in particular, a superhuman from Louisiana going by the name of Jesse Crackerjack with incredibly precise sharpshooting and minor sound manipulation saw his chance to subdue Old Man Smash-your-bloody-head-with-his-feckin'-cane. He had both handguns drawn with head-shots lined up on Malcolm and Hamish, and made it very clear to Charles, ordering the old man to surrender or he would fire on his two sons first, and proceed to shoot the rest of his assembled posterity before Charles could ever reach him. Jesse had a good distance between him and Charles, and he was a strong sprinter.

Charles had already lost the woman he loved more than anything else in the world. He had fought in the bloodiest event in human history. He was not about to take this shit from a lanky inbred cunt that dared threaten the people closest to him. In defiance of his usual debilitating speed the Old Juggernaut sprinted at Jesse Crackerjack. The last thing the swamp-born soundbender heard the obscene roar of a very pissed off Scotsman as Charles shouted every foul word he had ever learned while he bashed Jesse to a pulp. The adrenalin rushed through Charles; the old soldier was making what he thought might be his last stand as he charged at the remaining villains that hadn't already fled, ignoring the burning feeling in his lungs. As he finally began to succumb to unconsciousness Charles reckoned this was the end for him. But he didn't wake up in Heaven, or a prison cell awaiting torture by vengeful crime lords. He was in Newfoundland. The British government had been monitoring the underworld's efforts to capture the Glacier of Garscadden, intent on using them as disposable troops to first subdue the Glaswegian war god. Taking advantage of the fact that Charles's super-strength was only applied to head-butts, punches and kicks the authorities were able to bind him and prevent him from possibly escaping as they transferred him to the newly established superhuman prison. They loosed his bonds once he was dropped off on the island and still asleep, as his captors had the decency to allow the old man to fend for himself. Charles has been on Newfoundland for a while now, and he's not happy about it at all.
Goals and Dreams: Returning to Scotland and moving his garage somewhere so far away from the chavs and other various welfare parasites that they can't bloody find it, finding Hitler's body and kicking the bastard in the shins, living to see Scotland win the World Cup, help raise his great-grandchildren so they have a good life and can kill a German or angry Chav from 60 paces if the need ever arises, and having another drink with Hamish Cauleeroy.
RP Sample: viewtopic.php?f=31&t=245220

[Morrdh]

You have my sword, and my bow,

Nation Name: Constaniana
Character Name: Charles Malcolm Gordon
Aliases: The Glacier of Garscadden, an alias one of his grandchildren invented for him, Old Juggernaut, an alias popularized by the media, Sergeant Jerryshooterandpuncher, his own personal alias, and his personal favourite later bestowed upon him by a superhuman chav "Old Man Smash-your-bloody-head-with-his-feckin'-cane".
Age: 104
Gender/Sex: Male
Appearance: Link. The only things that might possibly be considered a costume for him is his old army uniform or his Glasgow Rangers jersey he wears on Saturdays. Dressing up in loony skimpy costumes is for drugged up chavs and queer continentals in his opinion.
Powers:
Superhuman toughness: After the Unluckiest Friday Charles found himself with more toughness than the grizzled old Glaswegian had previously thought possible, making him able to shrug off things ranging all the way from knives and punches to bricks heaved at him and tank rounds. He is also able to temporarily transfer this unbelievable durability to objects he's in contact with, allowing him to turn his old wooden cane into a concrete-shattering death-hammer.
Superhuman strength: Not his most prevalent power, but Charles is able to put much, much more force behind his punches and cane swings than should be possible for a man who's more than a century old. This seems to be all his super strength is applicable to, as he can't do things like lift cars or toss boulders with one hand.
Unyielding stamina: Now, Charles Gordon is a very old man. He has to walk with a cane. He is very slow on his feet. The act of running makes all his bones sore. But he can walk. Have you ever heard of Cliff Young? Multiply that man's stamina by ten and you have a rough idea of this superpower. Charles can go for weeks, even months without sleeping, walking the whole time, though he generally avoids doing so. Back in his day granddads were supposed to take naps and snore loudly, so he fulfils one of his obligations to society often. The downside to his power is that he's unable to go above that speed for more than ten seconds at a time without collapsing and wheezing for a good while afterwards.
Personality: Surly, foul-mouthed, grumpy, prejudiced, bitter, aggressive, belligerent, racist, though he has a small soft side for his family and remaining war friends/old people he takes a liking to. It can be rather sweet seeing him sit and tell stories to children, until you notice the story is about how he once killed three Germans in The War with an empty tin of baked beans.
Biography: Charles was born to a working-class family in Glasgow on September 2nd, 1924. His favourite Granddad had fought for the British Army during the Boer Wars, and the young Charles loved hearing his tales of war and adventure, instilling a part of his personality that would be a huge influence later in his life. As he grew up many people noticed Charles was a bit different from his classmates. Some put it fairly politely as "The lad needs a good paddling and stronger discipline in order to develop into a decent member of society". Others put it more crudely as "The lad's a feckin' demon; he punched my nose in again and snapped one of my damn ribs". The belligerent Glaswegian child found schoolwork boring, considering almost nothing but poems and rubbish. He managed to do decent in history, as well as science whenever the topic being discussed was something that could be used for making explosives or guns.

When the Second World War came around Charles immediately began trying to enlist, despite being underage. In 1941 he finally seemed old enough to go fight the Nazis (He was 17 upon enlistment). His first deployment was to North Africa, where he gladly fought against the Italians and Germans and made the first of his war friends. One that stood out in particular was Hamish Cauleeroy, a burly giant from Aberdeen who was one of the few men Charles ever met that he couldn't beat in a boxing match. The two became fast friends, and Hamish was Charles's first and only instructor in car mechanics, the career he would later take up in his civilian life. He gleefully participated in the Italian campaign after the conclusion of the North African campaign, though he later became somewhat disappointing when he heard that the fighting was more intense in France, as it meant there were more jerries to kill over there.

After the war ended he returned to Glasgow and got a job fixing cars. He married a nice lassie named Mary Strachmish in 1946 and their first child, Malcolm Winston Gordon was born soon afterwards. To the general surprise of nearly everyone he had ever met Charles turned out to be a loving husband and a devoted father, having another son named Charles Hamish Gordon and a daughter named Irene Mary Gordon with his wife. His children have fond memories of their childhoods with him, though parts of those memories include things like the times their dad would demonstrate how to best knock a man out with a punch if they were attacked on the streets. He opened up his very own car garage in 1951, which he kept for years. For a while after that nothing too earth-shattering occurred, with his children growing up and starting families of their own. When the Falklands War began he was ready to go kill Argies as much as he had been ready to kill Huns in 1941, but his wife (and his age, not that Charles would ever admit that) prevented him from going over. Mary died in November of 2016 at the age of 88, leaving Charles heartbroken. It was the first time in more than 90 years that he had cried. He returned to the work of fixing cars, which he had retired from a few decades before, at the same garage he had opened and Malcolm had been running since his retirement. Charles had a bit more difficulty with it compared to when he had retired, as he had acquired the need to use a cane at times for support, but the old man managed with sheer determination and an enormous amount of profanity.

Charles isn't quite sure what happened on the 13 of October, 2017. He suspects several stupid layabouts who weren't raised properly tried robbing him on the way to the post office and he head-butted them all so hard he damaged a small part of his brain that held the memory of what he did that day. This idea vexes him greatly, as he head-butted many Italians during The War without receiving such embarrassing injuries. Charles discovered his new-found powers the next day when a street thug who had also acquired superhuman abilities, pyrokinesis and slightly advanced regeneration, tried robbing him at night. Charles responded as you might expect him to: punching the stupid git. The thug was beaten into a coma in less than five seconds by a 93-year-old man with a cane. Charles thought nothing of it and continued on his way to the shop he had been heading to and continued going about his ordinary life as best he could, though he continued thrashing thugs that attacked him.

Eventually he was identified and caught on film, though there was generally no retaliation against him at first, as he was regarded as too high-risk a target to engage. As time went on however, and anti-superhuman opinion began spreading the authorities actually made efforts to at least arrest him and charge him for various assaults and being a public menace, but none were too fruitful. Various superhuman criminal organizations also began putting bounties on his head, as he was becoming aware of his true superhuman potential and his capacity to fight another noble war, not against the Nazis this time, but the degenerate criminal scum that plagued the world. He began going after gangs in Glasgow, sweeping them aside with incredible ease when he finally caught up with them. Things eventually got so bad for the Glaswegian underworld that they made what was considered a suicidal move: attacking Charles's family. The criminal coalition had planned on kidnapping Malcolm, Hamish and Mary Gordon and their families while they were celebrating the fourth birthday of Hamish's first grandson, as they had found out Charles was at home sick and unable to make it to the party. But Charles, tough old git he was, had turned up anyway, slipping past the surveillance around his home without even realizing it was there, as an idealistic young superhuman inspired by Charles had spotted them acting suspiciously and drove them away.

When the hired thugs broke into the house prepared to kidnap a group of unsuspecting people they were surprised to see their dreaded enemy sitting at the table along with their targets, wearing a conical party hat and smiling. The smile did not last on the old man's face. He threw his party hat at one assailant, knocking him unconscious, and used a few spoons to dispatch of the next few before properly standing up and literally kicking the remaining shock troops out of the house. Charles's criminal enemies had come prepared though, as more and more criminals hoping to seize the fortune offered for killing the Old Juggernaut had come to assist in the operation, possibly anticipating such circumstances as were now occurring. One criminal in particular, a superhuman from Louisiana going by the name of Jesse Crackerjack with incredibly precise sharpshooting and minor sound manipulation saw his chance to subdue Old Man Smash-your-bloody-head-with-his-feckin'-cane. He had both handguns drawn with head-shots lined up on Malcolm and Hamish, and made it very clear to Charles, ordering the old man to surrender or he would fire on his two sons first, and proceed to shoot the rest of his assembled posterity before Charles could ever reach him. Jesse had a good distance between him and Charles, and he was a strong sprinter.

Charles had already lost the woman he loved more than anything else in the world. He had fought in the bloodiest event in human history. He was not about to take this shit from a lanky inbred cunt that dared threaten the people closest to him. In defiance of his usual debilitating speed the Old Juggernaut sprinted at Jesse Crackerjack. The last thing the swamp-born soundbender heard the obscene roar of a very pissed off Scotsman as Charles shouted every foul word he had ever learned while he bashed Jesse to a pulp. The adrenalin rushed through Charles; the old soldier was making what he thought might be his last stand as he charged at the remaining villains that hadn't already fled, ignoring the burning feeling in his lungs. As he finally began to succumb to unconsciousness Charles reckoned this was the end for him. But he didn't wake up in Heaven, or a prison cell awaiting torture by vengeful crime lords. He was in Newfoundland. The British government had been monitoring the underworld's efforts to capture the Glacier of Garscadden, intent on using them as disposable troops to first subdue the Glaswegian war god. Taking advantage of the fact that Charles's super-strength was only applied to head-butts, punches and kicks the authorities were able to bind him and prevent him from possibly escaping as they transferred him to the newly established superhuman prison. They loosed his bonds once he was dropped off on the island and still asleep, as his captors had the decency to allow the old man to fend for himself. Charles has been on Newfoundland for a while now, and he's not happy about it at all.
Goals and Dreams: Returning to Scotland and moving his garage somewhere so far away from the chavs and other various welfare parasites that they can't bloody find it, finding Hitler's body and kicking the bastard in the shins, living to see Scotland win the World Cup, help raise his great-grandchildren so they have a good life and can kill a German or angry Chav from 60 paces if the need ever arises, and having another drink with Hamish Cauleeroy.
RP Sample: viewtopic.php?f=31&t=245220

Charlie's cynical and world-weary, that guy's a complete jerk.

[Kassaran]

What's my Service number to be?