Post by Heinrich Zöhler on Jun 14, 2006 5:44:40 GMT -5
Name:
Heinrich Zöhler, ranked Oberleutnant by the German Luftwaffe (Yes, I do promise this will all work out for all you skeptics, go on and just keep reading…he's rather a different character)
Gender:
Male
Age:
Thirty-two
Hair:
Dark, tawny color with blond highlights
Eyes:
Blue
Gang:
None, as of yet
Parents:
Franz and Greta Zöhler (Currently residing outside Karlsruhe, Germany)
Siblings:
Adolf and Birgit Zöhler (Nineteen-year-old twins—Birgit is older by five minutes)
Enemies:
No permanent ones anymore
Allies:
It all depends
Friends:
Either dead or with whereabouts unknown
Weapons:
Officer’s Walther pistol from the war purchased on the black market, fallschirmjäger knife
Pets/Cars:
Sturm, a stray German Shepard who has taken a liking to him
Appearance:
Heinrich possesses a tough, compact frame that suits his height of five feet, ten inches. Not overly broad-shouldered or stocky, he is nonetheless sturdy and quite strong. His frame is thin and not given much to developing heavy muscle: instead, Heinrich is lean and sinewy with the slim physique of a runner, though slightly broader than most athletes due to his natural build—he is not at all overweight. Sure-footed and swift, he is surprisingly quick on his feet and carries himself lightly, standing straight and tall as a military life has taught him. According to his former profession, he had long since tanned from close exposure to the sun. He has a tough, beat-up look to his face brought on by a difficult life which is offset by his closely cropped, slicked-back dark hair that nonetheless tousles easily, a face fairly narrow though still containing a trace of boyish plumpness, and a thin-bladed nose and a determined set to his jaw.
Personality: (It is suggested you first read the history to get a better understanding of his character, but that’s up to you)
Looking at him now, one would rarely think that this ragged sort of person who often streaked with grease from working in an auto-shop and can rarely find a clean change of clothes was once the pride of the mighty German Luftwaffe during World War II, and this impression is by no means encouraged by his manner, which is completely different from the happily reckless, mischievous, arrogant aviator personality Heinrich possessed during the war. Now, he is quiet and not at all extraordinary, which comes of avoiding unwanted attention in the form of the American military’s searches for him as an escaped prisoner of war and the simple desire not to be found or noticed. He is not shy, however—that one trait simply could not be stamped out of him—and is not at all afraid to state an opinion if he has one he feels is worth sharing, though asking him questions about himself will provoke a cold response or a shrug. Few care to hear a German name so soon after the war, which is still under a decade ago and is fresh in the minds of the American public. Heinrich is quite intelligent and still has a cool, level head that makes him a cold, calculating tactician and fighter—such skills often come in handy in the rough neighborhood where he lives and works when gang violence erupts so commonly around him as well as in the sky. Underneath the casual exterior he normally presents to the public, however, lies the soul of the fighter pilot he once was, though that has remained deeply buried since his surrender beneath the crushing reality of grief, hate, and pretense.
History:
Heinrich was born July 16th, 1918, and grew up on a small farm outside Karlsruhe, Germany with his parents, Franz and Greta Zöhler, and his much younger siblings, twins Adolf and Birgit. Most of his childhood consisted of supporting his family by helping run the farm and playing games with friends in the massive Black Forest, the base of which began near his home.
When Adolf Hitler and the Nazi Party came to power in the early 1930’s, his parents, who were avid Party members themselves, urged Heinrich to join as well, but the fifteen-year-old disliked some of the concepts introduced in National Socialism and refused. Coincidentally, by the time joining Hitler Youth was a requirement, he had already gone on to college in Munich to primarily study history and English and had missed the age cutoff. However, when war was declared in 1939, Heinrich dropped out of school to pursue his interest in flying and joined the Luftwaffe as a fighter pilot.
After undergoing basic training in which he showed a clear aptitude and even natural talent for flying, Heinrich was assigned to the 56th Luftwaffe Fighter Wing’s First Squadron. During the Blitzkrieg in Poland, Belgium, and France, he distinguished himself in combat and won the prestigious Knight’s Cross along with a promotion from flying officer to leutnant, or second lieutenant. When the Battle of Britain began, he was already a respected member of his Wing despite his young age and successfully built up his score against the new enemy of England.
However, his luck didn’t hold forever: during one particularly fierce dogfight, Heinrich was shot down by a damaged Spitfire and bailed out over England, where he was taken prisoner of war by the Royal Air Force (RAF) 438th Squadron. After two months of captivity, Heinrich and another German POW, Oberleutnant (First Lieutenant) Fritz Reihmann, who had become best friends in their time as prisoners together, stole a British Wellington bomber and managed to crash-land it in occupied France. After recovering from minor injuries sustained in the crash, Fritz, whose Wing had been disbanded, was reassigned to the 56th Wing as a squadron leader while Heinrich was promoted to Oberleutnant and also given command of his First Squadron in the place of the former commander, who had been killed in battle.
When the Battle of Britain was lost, the 56th was briefly reassigned as air support for Rommel’s tanks in North Africa before being moved to the Russian front—the private fear of all soldiers German or Russian. Though the 56thÂ’s Messerschmitt 109s were technologically superior to the Russian YAKs they were up against, the Germans were outnumbered and the ME-109s did not take well to the cold. As a result, many of Heinrich’s comrades including Fritz Reihmann were shot down and killed.
Heinrich, who was normally a cheerful person, was never the same after Fritz's death. They had grown very close during their time as POWs and had been almost like brothers, and no amount of comfort by others of the 56th who often were dead the next day could return their Oberleutnant to the spunky presence he had been. The loss of his friend changed Heinrich in a way difficult to identify that often caused him to risk his life recklessly and seek out the enemy by himself instead of hunt on orders, though without the flyboy light-heartedness he had shown early on in the war.
When the war ended on May 8th, 1945, Oberleutnant Zöhler joined his fellow aviators of the Fifty-Sixth in the race to the Allied forces, who were much preferred as captors to the Russians due to the fact that one rarely left Russian POW camps alive. The group that Heinrich and three of his companions stumbled upon in Germany happened to be American, and they sent the four German pilots along with many other prisoners of war back to camps in the United States.
The idea of being a prisoner again did not appeal whatsoever to Heinrich Zöhler. Separated from the other members of the 56th Wing, he ended up running away from his assigned camp soon after arrival and traveled on foot from town to town with his uniform and other identity papers hidden in a stolen bag until he found the perfect cover as a member of the World War II Veterans’ Performing Aerial Show. Heinrich pretended to be a German American who had joined the RAF to cover up for the lack of his American military service papers, a lie that was helped along by his ability to speak fluent English with only a trace of an accent when he wanted to and his skill at handling British fighters like the Spitfire and Hurricane, which were built more along the lines of Luftwaffe planes than the American P-51 Mustang.
When the Performing Aerial Show broke up in 1949, Heinrich had enough money to rent a small apartment in a town where two gangs—Socs and greasers—competed for notice and dominance, which seemed rather fitting as war was what he knew best. Preferring not to take sides in the conflict, the ex-fighter pilot is nonetheless well aware of what is constantly happening with both the Socs and the greasers. He now works in a small auto-shop with the knowledge of machinery he learned from his old ground crew in order to save up for the two things he wants most: a ticket back to Germany to see if his family can be salvaged from the wreckage of the Third Reich and his own plane to take away the pain of memory and to fulfill his most desperate need: to simply fly again.
Picture: Currently, none—I may come up with one later, depending.
Secret Code: Evil Socs
Heinrich Zöhler, ranked Oberleutnant by the German Luftwaffe (Yes, I do promise this will all work out for all you skeptics, go on and just keep reading…he's rather a different character)
Gender:
Male
Age:
Thirty-two
Hair:
Dark, tawny color with blond highlights
Eyes:
Blue
Gang:
None, as of yet
Parents:
Franz and Greta Zöhler (Currently residing outside Karlsruhe, Germany)
Siblings:
Adolf and Birgit Zöhler (Nineteen-year-old twins—Birgit is older by five minutes)
Enemies:
No permanent ones anymore
Allies:
It all depends
Friends:
Either dead or with whereabouts unknown
Weapons:
Officer’s Walther pistol from the war purchased on the black market, fallschirmjäger knife
Pets/Cars:
Sturm, a stray German Shepard who has taken a liking to him
Appearance:
Heinrich possesses a tough, compact frame that suits his height of five feet, ten inches. Not overly broad-shouldered or stocky, he is nonetheless sturdy and quite strong. His frame is thin and not given much to developing heavy muscle: instead, Heinrich is lean and sinewy with the slim physique of a runner, though slightly broader than most athletes due to his natural build—he is not at all overweight. Sure-footed and swift, he is surprisingly quick on his feet and carries himself lightly, standing straight and tall as a military life has taught him. According to his former profession, he had long since tanned from close exposure to the sun. He has a tough, beat-up look to his face brought on by a difficult life which is offset by his closely cropped, slicked-back dark hair that nonetheless tousles easily, a face fairly narrow though still containing a trace of boyish plumpness, and a thin-bladed nose and a determined set to his jaw.
Personality: (It is suggested you first read the history to get a better understanding of his character, but that’s up to you)
Looking at him now, one would rarely think that this ragged sort of person who often streaked with grease from working in an auto-shop and can rarely find a clean change of clothes was once the pride of the mighty German Luftwaffe during World War II, and this impression is by no means encouraged by his manner, which is completely different from the happily reckless, mischievous, arrogant aviator personality Heinrich possessed during the war. Now, he is quiet and not at all extraordinary, which comes of avoiding unwanted attention in the form of the American military’s searches for him as an escaped prisoner of war and the simple desire not to be found or noticed. He is not shy, however—that one trait simply could not be stamped out of him—and is not at all afraid to state an opinion if he has one he feels is worth sharing, though asking him questions about himself will provoke a cold response or a shrug. Few care to hear a German name so soon after the war, which is still under a decade ago and is fresh in the minds of the American public. Heinrich is quite intelligent and still has a cool, level head that makes him a cold, calculating tactician and fighter—such skills often come in handy in the rough neighborhood where he lives and works when gang violence erupts so commonly around him as well as in the sky. Underneath the casual exterior he normally presents to the public, however, lies the soul of the fighter pilot he once was, though that has remained deeply buried since his surrender beneath the crushing reality of grief, hate, and pretense.
History:
Heinrich was born July 16th, 1918, and grew up on a small farm outside Karlsruhe, Germany with his parents, Franz and Greta Zöhler, and his much younger siblings, twins Adolf and Birgit. Most of his childhood consisted of supporting his family by helping run the farm and playing games with friends in the massive Black Forest, the base of which began near his home.
When Adolf Hitler and the Nazi Party came to power in the early 1930’s, his parents, who were avid Party members themselves, urged Heinrich to join as well, but the fifteen-year-old disliked some of the concepts introduced in National Socialism and refused. Coincidentally, by the time joining Hitler Youth was a requirement, he had already gone on to college in Munich to primarily study history and English and had missed the age cutoff. However, when war was declared in 1939, Heinrich dropped out of school to pursue his interest in flying and joined the Luftwaffe as a fighter pilot.
After undergoing basic training in which he showed a clear aptitude and even natural talent for flying, Heinrich was assigned to the 56th Luftwaffe Fighter Wing’s First Squadron. During the Blitzkrieg in Poland, Belgium, and France, he distinguished himself in combat and won the prestigious Knight’s Cross along with a promotion from flying officer to leutnant, or second lieutenant. When the Battle of Britain began, he was already a respected member of his Wing despite his young age and successfully built up his score against the new enemy of England.
However, his luck didn’t hold forever: during one particularly fierce dogfight, Heinrich was shot down by a damaged Spitfire and bailed out over England, where he was taken prisoner of war by the Royal Air Force (RAF) 438th Squadron. After two months of captivity, Heinrich and another German POW, Oberleutnant (First Lieutenant) Fritz Reihmann, who had become best friends in their time as prisoners together, stole a British Wellington bomber and managed to crash-land it in occupied France. After recovering from minor injuries sustained in the crash, Fritz, whose Wing had been disbanded, was reassigned to the 56th Wing as a squadron leader while Heinrich was promoted to Oberleutnant and also given command of his First Squadron in the place of the former commander, who had been killed in battle.
When the Battle of Britain was lost, the 56th was briefly reassigned as air support for Rommel’s tanks in North Africa before being moved to the Russian front—the private fear of all soldiers German or Russian. Though the 56thÂ’s Messerschmitt 109s were technologically superior to the Russian YAKs they were up against, the Germans were outnumbered and the ME-109s did not take well to the cold. As a result, many of Heinrich’s comrades including Fritz Reihmann were shot down and killed.
Heinrich, who was normally a cheerful person, was never the same after Fritz's death. They had grown very close during their time as POWs and had been almost like brothers, and no amount of comfort by others of the 56th who often were dead the next day could return their Oberleutnant to the spunky presence he had been. The loss of his friend changed Heinrich in a way difficult to identify that often caused him to risk his life recklessly and seek out the enemy by himself instead of hunt on orders, though without the flyboy light-heartedness he had shown early on in the war.
When the war ended on May 8th, 1945, Oberleutnant Zöhler joined his fellow aviators of the Fifty-Sixth in the race to the Allied forces, who were much preferred as captors to the Russians due to the fact that one rarely left Russian POW camps alive. The group that Heinrich and three of his companions stumbled upon in Germany happened to be American, and they sent the four German pilots along with many other prisoners of war back to camps in the United States.
The idea of being a prisoner again did not appeal whatsoever to Heinrich Zöhler. Separated from the other members of the 56th Wing, he ended up running away from his assigned camp soon after arrival and traveled on foot from town to town with his uniform and other identity papers hidden in a stolen bag until he found the perfect cover as a member of the World War II Veterans’ Performing Aerial Show. Heinrich pretended to be a German American who had joined the RAF to cover up for the lack of his American military service papers, a lie that was helped along by his ability to speak fluent English with only a trace of an accent when he wanted to and his skill at handling British fighters like the Spitfire and Hurricane, which were built more along the lines of Luftwaffe planes than the American P-51 Mustang.
When the Performing Aerial Show broke up in 1949, Heinrich had enough money to rent a small apartment in a town where two gangs—Socs and greasers—competed for notice and dominance, which seemed rather fitting as war was what he knew best. Preferring not to take sides in the conflict, the ex-fighter pilot is nonetheless well aware of what is constantly happening with both the Socs and the greasers. He now works in a small auto-shop with the knowledge of machinery he learned from his old ground crew in order to save up for the two things he wants most: a ticket back to Germany to see if his family can be salvaged from the wreckage of the Third Reich and his own plane to take away the pain of memory and to fulfill his most desperate need: to simply fly again.
Picture: Currently, none—I may come up with one later, depending.
Secret Code: Evil Socs
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