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Posted (edited)

The Farmers Son – RAF pilot biography

 

===================================

 

$[name] was born an only child outside the sleepy town of Kings Lynn in rural Norfolk in October $[birthdate]. He grew up on the family farm and attended King Edward VI, the local Grammar School in town, and it was expected that he would eventually take over the running of the family farm, but this was not to be. When $[firstName] was 10 years old, Alan Cobham’s Flying Circus came to town. $[firstname] was enchanted by the display of barnstorming and daredevil flying. After taking a ten minute ‘flip’ in the front seat of Cobham’s rickety old Avro 504, $[firstName] was utterly hooked. In 1938, [firstName] shocked his family by applying for RAF pilot training.

Despite doing well in both the practical and theoretical aspects of his training, [firstName] didn’t find it easy to fit in with the other cadets, and soon earned the nickname ‘Yokel’ due to his broad, flat Norfolk accent. After completing basic training, $[firstName] was assigned to an OTU on the west coast of Scotland. On his first solo in his new Harvard advanced trainer, disaster struck. $[firstName] took a seagull in the engine and one through the windscreen. Unable to see, with a smashed jaw and a broken engine, ‘Yokel’ somehow managed to pancake his plane into the sea about 10 miles offshore. When the air-sea rescue launch reached him, $[firstName] was half dead with cold, having somehow managed to stay afloat for two hours with serious injuries.  With a broken jaw, arm, leg, and other injuries $[firstName] joked from his hospital bed that he had been ‘shattered from top to bottom’. His recovery was slow, but steady, and after 18 months of treatment [firstName] got his first taste of combat in the skies over Malta in March 1942. During his first tour, $[firstName] showed ingenuity and teamwork in the air, but on the ground he became more and more withdrawn, preferring the company of two stray dogs he’d adopted to that of any of his fellow pilots. Once his first tour was over, $[firstName] was shipped back to England and spent over a year as an instructor, teaching student pilots in the dreary, rain swept Welsh wilderness. $[firstName] was a natural instructor, and empathetic with his students, but the work bored him, and he lobbied hard for a return to active duty. It was almost a relief when, in $[startDate] $[firstName] was posted to $[startSquardronName] in the 2nd Tactical Air Force…

Edited by Diggun

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Posted (edited)

The Toff – RAF pilot biography

 

======================================

 

$[name] was born in a first class cabin on the RMS Olympic in $[birthdate]. The son of a diplomat, he was essentially raised by a nanny and sent off to Eton prep school aged five. A dull, lazy, rather stupid child, he only just scraped through his school years, and rumour had it that the only reason he wasn’t expelled from the prestigious public school was due to substantial donations and behind the scenes wrangling by his influential parents. Unfortunately, his parents were unexpectedly killed when an elephant ran amok during a Big Game hunting expedition they were on in India, and so $[firstName] inherited the family name, estates, fortune and titles. $[firstName] had no interest in continuing his education after finishing at Eton, which was fortunate as neither Oxford or Cambridge had any interest in educating him.

[firstName] did, however, develop a passion for motorcycling and fast  cars, which he was able to indulge with his vast personal wealth. One thing his money couldn’t buy him, though, was exemption from conscription. Deciding he’d be best off in the RAF due to the length of the training involved for aircrew, $[firstName] volunteered before he was called up. His instructors noticed that his experience with high performance vehicles coupled with his supreme confidence, arrogance, and iron hard self-belief made him an ideal candidate for fighter pilot training. ‘Too blasted thick to realise he might get killed’ and ‘An absolute brute. I just hope he remembers he’s on our side’ were two comments his instructors noted in his personal file. $[firstName]’s languid, devil-may-care attitude made him unpopular with his fellow cadets, but this he seemed to mind not one jot. Bossy, cruel and vain, $[firstName] delighted on playing cruel practical jokes on ground crew and anyone he outranked, while simultainiously shamelessly brown-nosing his superiors. Having scraped through his OTU by the skin of his teeth, and with three large black marks against his name for idleness, drunkenness and an incident involving the wife of the station commander at RAF Marham, his instructors were very glad to finally see the back of him. On $[startDate] $[firstName] received orders to join $[startSquardronName]. The Commanding Officer of his OTU rang ahead with advice for $[firstName]’s new CO. ‘$[firstName] is a cad, a bounder, a liar and a crook. Someone is going to kill him before long. I just hope you can make sure it’s the Germans before he pushes the wrong buttons enough that one of our lot do him in’…

Edited by Diggun

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Posted (edited)

Thought I'd have a crack at this. Enjoyed researching and writing regardless of whether this makes the cut or not. Any suggestions/corrections are welcome :)

 

The Merseyside Musician – RAF pilot biography

 

===================================

 

 

$[name] was born on $[birthdate] into a family of seven in Kensington, Liverpool. Growing up, he idolized his warm and compassionate father, who worked as a composer and pianist for the local music hall. He would often accompany his old man down to the concerts, plays and variety shows that were hugely popular in the Merseyside city, where he would sneak backstage and peer out through the curtains to get a glimpse of the fanfare. A perceptive, humble, and shy boy, $[firstName] tag wanted nothing more than to follow in his father’s footsteps and become a professional musician. That was until one evening, when, after the RAF big band played at his father’s music venue, he was regaled by tales of daring encounters between Sopwith Camels and Fokker triplanes by the recruiting officer, who accompanied the band to every performance. From then on, $[firstName]’s passion became aviation, and he was thrilled to see a flight of three Hawker Fury’s roaring overhead one hazy afternoon as he cycled home from school. The low growl of the Rolls Royce V12 and snap of the propeller as it cut through the air was a better sound than anything that had come out of the the music hall. In fact, he thought it was the best sound he’d heard in his life.

 

War broke out in the skies overhead. Liverpool was constantly under bombardment from the Luftwaffe, but the air raid sirens carried a certain sense of excitement for the then teenage $[firstName], who was eager to join the fight, but was not old enough to do so yet. Upon his seventeenth birthday, $[firstName] rushed to the recruiters office to hand in his pilot application. After waiting for what seemed like an eternity, he was invited for an interview, where his keen interest and knowledge of aviation landed him a place at the Reserve Flying Training School.

 

Sixteen months later, he found himself at the controls of a reconnaissance Spitfire over the North Sea. As he scanned the cold, grey sky, he had the feeling that he would never catch a glimpse of an enemy fighter for the duration of the war. It was then that he decided to request a transfer to a combat unit upon landing. His request was granted to his absolute joy and so $[startRank] $[name] packed his bags and got himself ready to cross the channel to the air war that awaited him. He arrived at the airfield of $[startSquadronName] on $[startDate], aged $[age], full of excitement for the action ahead.

Edited by Panzerman
timeline ambiguity
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Posted (edited)

Another one, based on Ginger Lacey.

 

The Instructor – RAF pilot biography

 

===================================

 

Born on $[birthdate], $[name] grew up amongst the quiet streets of the market town of Wetherby, West Riding of Yorkshire. He left King James Grammar School, Knaresborough to continue his education at Leeds Technical College, where he mostly flew under the radar of his professors and maintained average grades. For a few years after graduating, he worked as an apprentice pharmacist and loathed his mediocre future. As the threat of war over Western Europe began to loom larger, he joined the RAF Volunteer reserve as a trainee Pilot in Perth, Scotland. He accumulated 1,000 hours of flight time before the war. $[lastName] was called up when war was declared, after having become an instructor at the Yorkshire Flying School.

 

His squadron was transferred to France in order to support the French army and stem the tide of Blitzkrieg. In one May afternoon, $[lastName] claimed his first victories of the war, shooting down three German aircraft: a He-111, a Bf-109, and a Bf-110. He was shot down a few days later, crash landing in a swamp and almost drowning. He then shot down two more He-111’s before his unit returned to the UK, earning him the Croix de Guerre for his efforts during the Battle of France.

 

Enormous success during the Battle of Britain followed. He flew a Hawker Hurricane with No. 501 squadron based at Gravesend, becoming one of the highest scoring pilots of the battle. During one of the heaviest days of fighting, $[lastName] attacked a formation of 12 Bf-109s, shooting down two before the others noticed and escaping into the clouds. However, it didn’t all go his way, as he was forced to bail out or crash land his damaged aircraft no less than nine times. On one specific occasion, $[lastName] bailed out of his Hurricane, swearing to himself as his airfield was nowhere to be seen in the dreadful visibility.

 

Success over the channel continued thereafter, as $[lastName] skillfully flew the Spitfire Mk V with No. 602 squadron, based at Kenley. He claimed two Fw-190s as shot down in April, having made them collide. One of Britian’s top aces, $[lastName]’s reputation preceded him, and he was in huge demand as an instructor. As a result, he became a Tactics Officer and Chief Instructor at No1 Special Instructors School within a year.

 

The following year, $[lastName] was posted to India but was recalled to the European Theatre to lend a hand in attaining complete air superiority over Western Europe. Although he had been in and out of the war as an instructor pilot, he remained supremely confident in his combat abilities and was admired by his fellow pilots as one to learn from. $[lastName] was $[age] when he arrived at the headquarters of $[startSquadronName]. The date was $[startDate].

Edited by Panzerman
word count

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Posted (edited)

The Black Sheep RAF pilot biography

====================================

$[firstName] was a late one, coming as unexpected on $[birthdate] as bad weather on an unremarkable journey, born into a family of ship Wrights and traders working their trade out of the port of Dover. Just as the rest of the family did, $[firstName] [lastName] went to the right schools and learned subjects that had to do with shipping and trade, and spent holidays or at least part of them, learning the family trade.

 

The start of the war interupted that learning. The company ships were now forced to sail in convoy and subjected both attacks by air and sea. The port of Dover was no stranger to attacks either and $[lastName] had a front row seat to some of them. It made him reflect on his life and what he had done so far. He surprised himself when he finally realized he wanted change. So when he was finally of age, $[firstName] sought and received an appointment to RAF flight training, much to the shock of the rest of his family.

 

The training in Canada, delighted him. Thanks to his background in the nautical world, $[firstName] was deemed to be a very proficient navigator, and flying aircraft like the Harvard felt  like heaven as well. In Canada $[firstName] also suffered his first setback. The training command wanted to retain him to teach navigation to the new recruits. $[firstName] declined. He wanted to fly on operations.

 

Due to training commitments, $[lastName] missed Normandy and the Doodlebug scare. The pressing need for both fighter and ground attack pilots on the continent, made a posting to the continent almost certain. When that posting finally arrived, $[lastName] also received a brief period of home leave. Here, he suffered his second setback. His older brother met him at the door and accused him of being responsible for his father's heart attack. $[firstName] responded by knocking his brother down to the ground in a single blow, before turning around and leaving. 

 

With his leave now cut short, $[firstName] was soon bound for an allied airfield on the continent with [startSquadronName]. It was $[startDate]. $[lastName] was now determined to forge his own path in life..  

Edited by Sharpe43
user error, almost certainly

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Good stuff guys.

 

For my next one I’m going to use George Preddy (352nd) as inspiration.

 

He served early in the war in Australia and spent nearly a year in the hospital before finding his way to the Bluenosers.

 

Another guy experienced the Japanese attacks in the Philippines on Dec 8th of 41.

Then was either reassigned or stayed with his unit and ended up in England (left that open ended)

 

That’s about as specific as I can get with actual combat since I have to leave experience just before Belgium vague/universal.

 

Most of my bios end with the guy shipping off after training.in the states.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

One of my guys is sort of a Dukes if Hazzard style moonshiner who narrowly escapees jail and ends up in college.

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Just posting for my interest in helping, I apologize if this is in the wrong place. Looks like many of you are already hard at work!

 

Fang

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50 minutes ago, Gambit21 said:

Good stuff guys.

 

For my next one I’m going to use George Preddy (352nd) as inspiration.

 

He served early in the war in Australia and spent nearly a year in the hospital before finding his way to the Bluenosers.

 

Another guy experienced the Japanese attacks in the Philippines on Dec 8th of 41.

Then was either reassigned or stayed with his unit and ended up in England (left that open ended)

 

That’s about as specific as I can get with actual combat since I have to leave experience just before Belgium vague/universal.

 

Most of my bios end with the guy shipping off after training.in the states.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

One of my guys is sort of a Dukes if Hazzard style moonshiner who narrowly escapees jail and ends up in college.

Gambit, mind if I direct your attention to the Flying Tigers? some of them ended up fighting on this side of the world as well. Also, perhaps you could try a crop duster pilot?

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Thanks!

 

I have the crop-duster guy. :)

 

As far as Flying Tigers I have a book on them as well so may turn to that, thanks for the suggestion.

I'm not sure how the career though would handle a guy who would already be a fairly advanced rank at the beginning of the career.

Might not be an issue, I'll see if I can work that out.

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58 minutes ago, Gambit21 said:

I'm not sure how the career though would handle a guy who would already be a fairly advanced rank at the beginning of the career.

Might not be an issue, I'll see if I can work that out.

 

Might not be a bad idea to have a couple of bios that are meant to be used when the player chooses to start out as a commanding officer. That way, you avoid situations like the anonymous guy from the humble cornfields of Iowa beginning his aviation career as a Major. 😄 An AVG guy who's been there and done that and is finally getting his chance to command a squadron would certainly make for a plausible biography.

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2 minutes ago, LukeFF said:

 

Might not be a bad idea to have a couple of bios that are meant to be used when the player chooses to start out as a commanding officer. That way, you avoid situations like the anonymous guy from the humble cornfields of Iowa beginning his aviation career as a Major.

 

Yeah that was my concern.

Also what about a player that starts a career later in the campaign as a replacement? Then the bio of a guy who's seen action in the Philippines or China wouldn't make sense there either.

 

I think I do need a "The Major" bio, and maybe a "the replacement" bio or two.

 

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Sounds good. :) I wrote a couple of North Africa veteran bios, but I worded them so that they would not be awkward at either end of the starting rank scale (assuming the RAF and USAAF ranks will be what I imagine they will be). I just assumed that the pilot started out at a lower enlisted rank and had worked their way up to their starting rank in the game itself. 

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Yeah I've kept it vague so that it works in any case, which means not specifying graduation dates, training dates, when and with who they came over seas with etc etc.

Cant' mention England because might be a late replacement. There's still plenty of freedom with early life, school, circumstances surrounding joining the air corps etc so that's what I concentrate on.

 

If I have time I'll write a few more specialized ones.

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2 hours ago, LukeFF said:

Sounds good. :) I wrote a couple of North Africa veteran bios, but I worded them so that they would not be awkward at either end of the starting rank scale (assuming the RAF and USAAF ranks will be what I imagine they will be). I just assumed that the pilot started out at a lower enlisted rank and had worked their way up to their starting rank in the game itself. 

 

Although come to think of it, I have an ex-B17 pilot already, which means he’d be an advanced rank already. So in that case then do I declare a rank and not use the $[rank] tag?  That’s an odd case.

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Hey guys, while doing some research I just found this...might help someone.

 

 

Born in Rathmines, Co Dublin in 1920, Brendan Finucane spent his formative years in the capital. However at 16 years of age, his parents decided to move the family to England. The move would be pivotal for the young Finucane, who had ambitions to become a pilot since he was just 12 years old. When he finished school in England, Brendan went on to work as an accountant, which he hated, craving more excitement.

At 17, Brendan joined the Royal Air Force’s short-service commissions programme, where he could learn to fly over a four-year period. His flying lessons were not plain sailing however, and his early days in the skies were littered with accidents and near misses — he almost crashed into an airfield boundary hedge and, four days later, his tyre burst while landing.

Despite his shaky start, Finucane soon learned how to handle various aircraft and amassed 100 hours of practice flying. From there, he was sent on to advanced flying school in Scotland to enhance his skills.

Although he scored low marks in his flying exams, Finucane was called to action when war broke out in 1939. His skills were initially not seen as adequate to become a fighter pilot, however on the Fall of France an influx of pilots was sorely needed.

The Irishman was sent to Chester to train in the Spitfire while awaiting his posting. On 3 July, 1940, he flew the plane for the first time.

His time as a fighter pilot provided Finucane with the excitement he craved, although it was not without its challenges. His first scramble almost ended in destruction when the Spitfire developed a leak while in flight, filling the cockpit with vapour. Immediately afterwards, his radio transmission failed. He managed to pull off an emergency landing and survived the encounter.

Throughout the war, and his many stunning victories, Finucane became a symbol of hope for the British public. A young and very handsome man, his successes were a morale boost for Britain at war.

The term ‘flying ace’ was awarded to a pilot who downed five enemy planes in aerial combat — Finucane had an incredible 28 ‘kills’, all in the Spitfire, while some authorities say that figure was as high as 32.

In June 1942, aged 21, he became the youngest wing commander in RAF history, but the following month came his final mission.

His plane was damaged as he headed for a German army camp in France. His wingman, Alan Aikman, notified him of a plume of smoke coming from his plane, to which he reportedly replied with a thumbs up. He flew slowly out to sea in the destroyed vessel, and lost radio contact off the French coast. He apparently attempted to land in the channel but was unsuccessful, and his plane crashed nose-first into water.

Despite his short life, Brendan Finucane is remembered today as one of the most celebrated pilots of the Battle of Britain. His memorial was attended by over 2,500 people. His Irish heritage was always important to him, and he flew with a shamrock emblazoned on the side of his planes as a constant reminder of his home country. A rose was planted in the memorial garden in his native Dublin at Baldonnel Aerodrome. At EPIC, he is remembered in our Conflict gallery, dedicated to remembering the contribution made by Irish people who fought in foreign wars.

Written by PATRICK KELLEHER as part of our special magazine series in the Irish Independent

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Posted (edited)

Not British (I know nothing about their backgrounds), but I don't think we can have the RAF without a...

Polish veteran RAF pilot

Born on $[birthdate] in lands that in 1918 became second Polish Republic, $[firstName] grew up in patriotic (and militaristic) atmosphere of rebuilding country. Determined to become part of emerging Polish aviation since childhood, he first sat behind the stick when he was 15. Despite stiff competition (Poland had large population to draw from, but few cockpits to fill, so it was hard to enter training program but very easy to flunk) he succesfully went through elite Pilot Officer Candidate and Pilot Offficer schools in Deblin. Out of the school, 2nd Lieutenent $[name] served for few years in Polish pursuit squadron, before transferring back to school as instructor in 1938.

When the war begun with German invasion of Poland, the instructors and students at school formed an ad hoc interceptor flight, trying to stop German bombers with obsolete P.7 fighters that school kept as advanced trainers. In a week, the battle damage, lack of fuel and spares rendered that unit unoperational; with German troops advancing on Modlin the pilots, individually and in groups, joined combat troops withdrawing to neutral Romania, and then to the France. As one of few English speaking Polish pilots, he did not take part in Battle of France - he was shipped to England to be integrated into RAF.

$[firstName] started there with clean slate, his log book left behind to avoid internment in Romania and his officer rank forfeit per Polish-British agreement. The training went on for months while Battles of France and Brittain raged, until, one day in September 1940 $[name] was posted to combat squadron. After his experiences with much less capable planes $[firstName] was immediately impressed with the Spitfire Mk.I and, during the familiarisation flight, put it through some serious aerobatics. Unfortunately,  per RAF regulations he was not allowed to do that without written permission from his CO; without papers backing his claims of competence gone he was sent back to training. By the time he got back to a combat unit it was summer 1941. $[name] took part in several uneventful "Circus" operations until engine failure forced him to bail out over the Channel.

Picked up by German rescue seaplane, the POW $[name] joined other Western pilots in Stalag Luft in Rheinland. The three years he spent there deserve a story of their own; sufficient to say, he was part of prisoner group that planned and successfully executed an escape from said prison camp. He was also one of lucky few to avoid capture and execution. He managed to get to occupied France and, through stroke of luck, made contact with French Resistance. By this time the Allied troops have already landed in Normandy; with help of French fighters $[firstName] managed to get across the France and hide among civilians in town about to be liberated by Americans.

The mandatory debriefing and well-earned rest took another few months, but the war wasn't over yet and $[firstName] had spent way too  much of it out of cockpit. His requests for combat assigment finally accepted,  $[startRank]  $[lastName] reported for duty to CO of $[startSquadronName] at  $[startDate] . It was about bloody time.

Edited by J2_Trupobaw

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@J2_Trupobaw, looks good. It just needs some spelling / grammar corrections in a few spots. If you want, I can go through it and do that. 

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3 minutes ago, LukeFF said:

@J2_Trupobaw, looks good. It just needs some spelling / grammar corrections in a few spots. If you want, I can go through it and do that. 

Please do! I can fix spelling from home, but the grammar is my best :).

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3 minutes ago, J2_Trupobaw said:

Please do! I can fix spelling from home, but the grammar is my best :).

 

Ok, will do!

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Alright, @J2_Trupobaw, here you go: :) 

 

 

Born on $[birthdate] in lands that in 1918 became the second Polish Republic, $[firstName] grew up in the patriotic (and militaristic) atmosphere of a rebuilding country. Determined to become part of the emerging Polish aviation since childhood, he first sat behind the stick when he was 15. Despite stiff competition, (Poland had a large population to draw from, but few cockpits to fill, so it was hard to enter the training program but very easy to flunk) he successfully went through the elite Pilot Officer Candidate and Pilot Officer schools in Deblin. Out of the school, 2nd Lieutenant $[name] served for a few years in a Polish pursuit squadron, before transferring back to the pilot school as an instructor in 1938.

When the war began with the German invasion of Poland, the instructors and students at the school formed an ad hoc interceptor flight, trying to stop German bombers with obsolete P.7 fighters that the school kept as advanced trainers. In a week, the battle damage, lack of fuel, and spares rendered that unit non-operational; with German troops advancing on Modlin the pilots, individually and in groups, joined combat troops withdrawing to neutral Romania, and then to France. As one of the few English-speaking Polish pilots, he did not take part in the Battle of France - he was shipped to England to be integrated into the RAF.

$[firstName] started there with a clean slate, his log book left behind to avoid internment in Romania and his officer rank forfeited per a Polish-British agreement. The training went on for months while the Battles of France and Britain raged until, one day in September 1940, $[name] was posted to a combat squadron. After his experiences with much less capable planes, $[firstName] was immediately impressed with the Spitfire Mk.I and, during the familiarization flight, put it through some serious aerobatics. Unfortunately, per RAF regulations, he was not allowed to do that without written permission from his CO; without papers backing his claims of competence, he was sent back to training. By the time he got back to a combat unit, it was the summer of 1941. $[name] took part in several uneventful “Circus” operations until engine failure forced him to bail out over the Channel.

Picked up by a German rescue seaplane, the POW $[name] joined other Western pilots in Stalag Luft in the Rhineland. The three years he spent there deserve a story of their own; suffice it to say, he was part of a prisoner group that planned and successfully executed an escape from said prison camp. He was also one of the lucky few to avoid recapture and execution. He managed to get to occupied France and, through a stroke of luck, made contact with the French Resistance. By this time, the Allied troops had already landed in Normandy; with the help of French fighters $[firstName] managed to get across France and hide among civilians in a town about to be liberated by the Americans.

The mandatory debriefing and well-earned rest took another few months, but the war was not over yet, and $[firstName] had spent way too much of it out of the cockpit. His requests for combat assignment finally accepted, $[startRank] $[lastName] reported for duty to the CO of $[startSquadronName] at $[startDate]. It was about bloody time.

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Posted (edited)

The Daydreamer

 

$[name] was born in a small fishing village on the English coast in the winter of $[birthdate]. Dad was blinded by shell fragments in France in 1914, and mom took care of the household and their grocery shop. There was very little money, so $[firstName] and his brother worked from a young age, taking turns helping in the shop during the cold months and selling ice cream and fish and chips by the beach when the weather was warm.

 

A shy, sensitive person, he spent his childhood by the water where he loved to look at gulls, suspended in the air, that would, now and again, swoop down to steal a chip or a cone. He went for long walks on the sands and through meadows of trees and shrubs bent toward land by the force of the wind from the sea.

 

He did not like school or groups of people, and was often reprimanded by teachers for daydreaming in class. One day, a large, powerful boy picked on him, and when he answered back, the big boy grabbed $[firstName]’s arm and twisted it in a terribly painful way while the pack of boys that always followed the big one laughed and cheered.

 

Moments later, when the big boy’s and the pack’s attention was elsewhere, $[firstName] approached, as calmly and nonchalantly as he could, and suddenly, without warning and with all his weight behind it, smashed a fist into the big boy’s face with a force that surprised him.  When he eventually got up, the big boy did not hit him back, and despite continuously asking to fight him — $[firstName] would always refuse — would not attack, then or ever again.

 

After leaving school $[firstName] studied biology and natural history in the library while spending time at home helping as he had done before. During a visit, his brother, now a mechanic and student pilot, remarked how he often saw $[firstName] looking up while helping tend the garden, and not long after, on a warm, windy morning, asked him to come along and see the view from above — his first flight.

 

When the glider was released from the airplane towing it, $[firstName] remembers being amazed at first about the initial silence, followed by the sound of the wind, the ringing of cow bells, the words between people, the shutting of doors.

 

Then, looking up, and around, the movement of the ailerons, the banking of the wings, white and yellow clouds and glints of sunlight through moisture on the canopy, the beauty of the green landscape and, on the horizon, the blue distance of the sea.

 

From that day onward his love of flight would only grow, while newspapers, terrible sounds from the radio and the skies, and the increasing rationing of supplies, brought the war home.

 

In the warm months of $[startDate], $[startRank] $[lastName], then $[age] years old, received notice to report to $[startSquadronName]. He was going to fly across the water to fight over the continent.

 

As he walked through the garden, he stopped and touched a flower, feeling the gentle texture of the petals. He opened the small metal gate, stepped through, and closed it, with its little clanking sound.

 

He waved to the window where he could make out his mother’s face, dancing amid the reflections of the garden in the glass panes, his father by her side.

 

Tears blurred his vision, and as he moved, also him, from the point of view of his parents, behind the slowly melting pane.

Edited by Hypertexthero
Grammar

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Ok guys. I'm trying to round up what we have here on the British. Not all will make the cut probably, but as far as British ones go let's PAUSE for now and give me time to evaluate and gather them up and submit to the team.

 

THANK YOU to everyone that was able to contribute on the British bios!!!!!!

 

The I will work on any American ones that have been sent to me from Luke and Gambit via email.

 

Jason

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