Post by Moggy Cattermole on Oct 26, 2007 15:01:09 GMT -5
Name:
Flying Officer Lance Cattermole (but call him Moggy by all means)
Occupation:
Spitfire pilot in the RAF
Age:
Twenty-nine
Allies/Axis/Neutral:
Allies - Great Britain
Physical Description:
Moggy is on the shorter side of average at the height of five feet, ten inches, but his thin, not overly muscular frame tends to make him appear smaller than he really is. Naturally, fighter pilots must take a physical in order to keep flying, but this particular pilot is in just enough shape for passing it and no more: he has never been a sport enthusiast and in a middle of a fight that he usually provokes, he can often be found on the bottom of the pile. Nevertheless, Moggy makes up for his lack of brute strength in his intellect and somewhat dashing good looks. He possesses a classic British appearance that usually bears an expression of cynical amusement with calculating blue eyes, a decided chin, and a thin, refined-looking mustache on a longish face. When angered, Moggy’s eyes seem to pop out of his head and he bares his teeth, a picture that can seem quite comical unless you’re on the receiving end of his anger—though he doesn’t look it, he has an enormous temper. His light brown hair is usually brushed back impatiently and bears the permanently wind-blown look typical of a pilot, which often causes his forelock to fall over his forehead nearly to his eyes. Despite this, his darker, expressive eyebrows are always present and one is almost always raised arrogantly, giving him an aristocratic sort of air.
Personality:
People have tried many times in the past to consider Moggy a friend, and most have broken off with exasperation—any attempts to get closer to him or be light-hearted around are usually shot down by snide comments that can take devastating effect. Instead, most of his squadron has taken him to be a sort of ever-present company who, despite his rudeness and complete lack of sympathy, is “all right” by most other fighter pilots’ reckoning. It is this group who understands him the best because of their own experiences: they can tell a man who’s been changed by the war when they see one, and Moggy is a perfect example. Before the real fighting started, the better side of him was always present in the chivalrous manners towards everyone but his peers and a fairly amiable yet intellectual way of teasing his friends, but when his squadron began losing one or two new pilots each day, that part of his was hidden more and more behind a different Moggy with an even sharper tongue, a quick temper, a sarcastic wit, and a pronounced lack of kindness or human feeling. It is very rare now for Moggy to care about anyone but himself—he’s in this war as a business of survival, not to play the noble hero supporting his comrades. Deaths of those who were very close to him are regretted only inside, and he frequently makes grisly jokes and blunt, heartless statements about the pilots who fought and died beside him as if they were merely on vacation. Though everyone else usually views him with dislike because of these opinions, this is Moggy’s way of dealing with the loss of his friends, but this doesn’t make him any less cruel or unfeeling than he appears. Once, after bailing out over England, he received the news that his abandoned Spitfire had crashed into two British houses, killing three people and an infant without batting an eye, challenging his outraged intelligence officer’s claim that "They used to say women and children first" by saying coolly, “Did they? But they can't fly Spitfires, can they?” And that, of all things, is what Moggy can do best without question, but most find his arrogance about it to be far too excessive.
As many who’ve crossed him have found out, remarking on this can be a mistake—though he’s usually at a disadvantage because of his size, his temper is absolutely ferocious when ignited, though it takes quite a lot to provoke it and usually only goes up if someone he’s been ragging on explodes and lashes out. The only time Moggy ever shows some decency is towards women. He is quite the ladies’ man and is a dashing gentleman when it comes to even the toughest WAAF sergeant. With the suave manners he picked up from his prestigious schooling, impeccable taste, and a touch of wry humor in addition to his fighter pilot’s looks, Moggy is an experienced charmer and is proud of it.
History:
Moggy, then known by his real name only, was born on 12 February of 1911 into an old school family with strict rules about life and an even stricter way of upholding them. His father, Maxwell Cattermole, who had been a colonel in the Great War, was not hesitant about beating his only child if he misbehaved and made sure that his son learned discipline in a variety of harsh ways. Even as a small boy, little Lance quickly found out that keeping his mouth shut, his temper in control, and plotting revenge than taking action on a whim was a smarter idea than doing otherwise because one way or another, his father would hear about it.
At the age of ten, Lance was sent off to a prestigious boarding school that was thought of by most upper-class English families as a preliminary stage to Oxford. A few days was all the young boy needed to decide that he hated it. The food was terrible, the teachers cruel and eager with the stick, the schedule restricted, and the other children either snobs or bullies. It didn’t take long for Lance to come up with a compromise to better his situation—he became a mixture of a snob and a bully himself, using his intellect and harsh tongue to get what he wanted and never allowing anyone to get the better of him. He gained few friends because of this, but Lance didn’t need friends—he just needed to survive school and make sure his father was pleased enough to send him away from home to college.
After primary and grammar school, Lance passed the exams with notable success over the rest of the field, sending him on a scholarship to Oxford. Majoring in English and world history, he continued to do well in school, but on the social scene he attracted the attention of several popular rugby players because of a remark he’d made to a girl. On the grounds of defending her honor, the burly lads dragged Lance out of his room one night when he was studying for his history midterm exam and beat him up badly, leaving him unconscious on the edge of the woods. Found later by the gamekeeper, he was forced to miss the exam partially because he was unable to hold a pencil and also because the headmaster had refused to allow him to on grounds of "fighting". Lance automatically failed the exam because of this and was in danger of failing for the year. Needless to say, he was livid.
A few weeks later during fencing class, he challenged the boys who had beat one by one to sabre duels. Because of his size, the rugby players readily agreed, figuring that they could overpower him using the heavy weapons, but were flabbergasted when Lance showed up with a light foil instead of a sabre. They were even more surprised when the other boy beat them all, using the foil in a mixture of foil and sabre technique to agonizing effect. All of the would-be bullies limped off the practice courts with welts and bruises and they--or anyone else, for that matter--never bothered him again.
After graduating, Lance entered RAF flying school where he gained the peculiar nickname of "Moggy", which he has gone by ever since. After several months of learning to fly the new Supermarine Spitfire, for which he showed a natural talent, his newly formed Hornet Squadron was assigned to Poland. When war broke out in 1939, the British were forced to beat a hasty retreat to France where they suffered heavy losses at the hands of the Germans. Several of Moggy's fellow pilots, many of whom he quietly considered friends, were killed, and their young replacements died just as quickly.
When the Germans rolled into France, Hornet Squadron was ordered to pull back home as the British considered France lost, which turned out to be correct. The squadron stopped on Rathlin for a few weeks to provide air cover, but when the official order came for all troops to evacuate the island the squadron was told to take off again for re-stationing in Dover.
The day that the squadron was supposed to be leaving, Moggy took a long flight on the French coastline, trying to get a sense for the country that had beat him in France and was now forcing him to leave English territory. The concept of invasion was almost unthinkable to him, but here it was happening now: everyone knew Rathlin was done for. Moggy hadn't told anyone where he was going, which turned out to be a mistake when he encountered engine trouble a few miles away from Rathlin's coast. He was forced to bail out into the Channel, but when he and his Spitfire were found missing back at the airfield everyone assumed that he had been taking a walk during the bombing raid at night, had gone up, and had been shot down during the fight. By the time Moggy had dragged himself, his sodden parachute, and a deflated yellow life raft out of the ocean onto the South Beach, the British forces--Hornet Squadron included--had left without him. Moggy was stranded on Rathlin with the Germans advancing from the French shore.
When the Germans arrived, Moggy, as the only uniformed soldier left on the island, was first taken into custody, but released soon after he explained his situation. He declined the sympathetic Luftwaffe commander's offer to stay on at his barracks at the airfield and took up lodgings over Odds 'N Ends, the owner of the store being a former RAF pilot in the Great War who reluctantly allowed him to stay on the grounds that he was doing a favor for a fellow aviator. Now, he wanders around town annoying Germans, doing odd jobs, and cursing his own bad luck at being counted officially dead and missing a good scrap back in England.
Picture:
See the signature and avatar, s'il vous plait.
Just a note - this is a pretty awesome site, so thanks for starting it! I tried doing a semi-literate World War II-related site a few months ago and it ultimately died, but you seem to have taken off here!
Flying Officer Lance Cattermole (but call him Moggy by all means)
Occupation:
Spitfire pilot in the RAF
Age:
Twenty-nine
Allies/Axis/Neutral:
Allies - Great Britain
Physical Description:
Moggy is on the shorter side of average at the height of five feet, ten inches, but his thin, not overly muscular frame tends to make him appear smaller than he really is. Naturally, fighter pilots must take a physical in order to keep flying, but this particular pilot is in just enough shape for passing it and no more: he has never been a sport enthusiast and in a middle of a fight that he usually provokes, he can often be found on the bottom of the pile. Nevertheless, Moggy makes up for his lack of brute strength in his intellect and somewhat dashing good looks. He possesses a classic British appearance that usually bears an expression of cynical amusement with calculating blue eyes, a decided chin, and a thin, refined-looking mustache on a longish face. When angered, Moggy’s eyes seem to pop out of his head and he bares his teeth, a picture that can seem quite comical unless you’re on the receiving end of his anger—though he doesn’t look it, he has an enormous temper. His light brown hair is usually brushed back impatiently and bears the permanently wind-blown look typical of a pilot, which often causes his forelock to fall over his forehead nearly to his eyes. Despite this, his darker, expressive eyebrows are always present and one is almost always raised arrogantly, giving him an aristocratic sort of air.
Personality:
People have tried many times in the past to consider Moggy a friend, and most have broken off with exasperation—any attempts to get closer to him or be light-hearted around are usually shot down by snide comments that can take devastating effect. Instead, most of his squadron has taken him to be a sort of ever-present company who, despite his rudeness and complete lack of sympathy, is “all right” by most other fighter pilots’ reckoning. It is this group who understands him the best because of their own experiences: they can tell a man who’s been changed by the war when they see one, and Moggy is a perfect example. Before the real fighting started, the better side of him was always present in the chivalrous manners towards everyone but his peers and a fairly amiable yet intellectual way of teasing his friends, but when his squadron began losing one or two new pilots each day, that part of his was hidden more and more behind a different Moggy with an even sharper tongue, a quick temper, a sarcastic wit, and a pronounced lack of kindness or human feeling. It is very rare now for Moggy to care about anyone but himself—he’s in this war as a business of survival, not to play the noble hero supporting his comrades. Deaths of those who were very close to him are regretted only inside, and he frequently makes grisly jokes and blunt, heartless statements about the pilots who fought and died beside him as if they were merely on vacation. Though everyone else usually views him with dislike because of these opinions, this is Moggy’s way of dealing with the loss of his friends, but this doesn’t make him any less cruel or unfeeling than he appears. Once, after bailing out over England, he received the news that his abandoned Spitfire had crashed into two British houses, killing three people and an infant without batting an eye, challenging his outraged intelligence officer’s claim that "They used to say women and children first" by saying coolly, “Did they? But they can't fly Spitfires, can they?” And that, of all things, is what Moggy can do best without question, but most find his arrogance about it to be far too excessive.
As many who’ve crossed him have found out, remarking on this can be a mistake—though he’s usually at a disadvantage because of his size, his temper is absolutely ferocious when ignited, though it takes quite a lot to provoke it and usually only goes up if someone he’s been ragging on explodes and lashes out. The only time Moggy ever shows some decency is towards women. He is quite the ladies’ man and is a dashing gentleman when it comes to even the toughest WAAF sergeant. With the suave manners he picked up from his prestigious schooling, impeccable taste, and a touch of wry humor in addition to his fighter pilot’s looks, Moggy is an experienced charmer and is proud of it.
History:
Moggy, then known by his real name only, was born on 12 February of 1911 into an old school family with strict rules about life and an even stricter way of upholding them. His father, Maxwell Cattermole, who had been a colonel in the Great War, was not hesitant about beating his only child if he misbehaved and made sure that his son learned discipline in a variety of harsh ways. Even as a small boy, little Lance quickly found out that keeping his mouth shut, his temper in control, and plotting revenge than taking action on a whim was a smarter idea than doing otherwise because one way or another, his father would hear about it.
At the age of ten, Lance was sent off to a prestigious boarding school that was thought of by most upper-class English families as a preliminary stage to Oxford. A few days was all the young boy needed to decide that he hated it. The food was terrible, the teachers cruel and eager with the stick, the schedule restricted, and the other children either snobs or bullies. It didn’t take long for Lance to come up with a compromise to better his situation—he became a mixture of a snob and a bully himself, using his intellect and harsh tongue to get what he wanted and never allowing anyone to get the better of him. He gained few friends because of this, but Lance didn’t need friends—he just needed to survive school and make sure his father was pleased enough to send him away from home to college.
After primary and grammar school, Lance passed the exams with notable success over the rest of the field, sending him on a scholarship to Oxford. Majoring in English and world history, he continued to do well in school, but on the social scene he attracted the attention of several popular rugby players because of a remark he’d made to a girl. On the grounds of defending her honor, the burly lads dragged Lance out of his room one night when he was studying for his history midterm exam and beat him up badly, leaving him unconscious on the edge of the woods. Found later by the gamekeeper, he was forced to miss the exam partially because he was unable to hold a pencil and also because the headmaster had refused to allow him to on grounds of "fighting". Lance automatically failed the exam because of this and was in danger of failing for the year. Needless to say, he was livid.
A few weeks later during fencing class, he challenged the boys who had beat one by one to sabre duels. Because of his size, the rugby players readily agreed, figuring that they could overpower him using the heavy weapons, but were flabbergasted when Lance showed up with a light foil instead of a sabre. They were even more surprised when the other boy beat them all, using the foil in a mixture of foil and sabre technique to agonizing effect. All of the would-be bullies limped off the practice courts with welts and bruises and they--or anyone else, for that matter--never bothered him again.
After graduating, Lance entered RAF flying school where he gained the peculiar nickname of "Moggy", which he has gone by ever since. After several months of learning to fly the new Supermarine Spitfire, for which he showed a natural talent, his newly formed Hornet Squadron was assigned to Poland. When war broke out in 1939, the British were forced to beat a hasty retreat to France where they suffered heavy losses at the hands of the Germans. Several of Moggy's fellow pilots, many of whom he quietly considered friends, were killed, and their young replacements died just as quickly.
When the Germans rolled into France, Hornet Squadron was ordered to pull back home as the British considered France lost, which turned out to be correct. The squadron stopped on Rathlin for a few weeks to provide air cover, but when the official order came for all troops to evacuate the island the squadron was told to take off again for re-stationing in Dover.
The day that the squadron was supposed to be leaving, Moggy took a long flight on the French coastline, trying to get a sense for the country that had beat him in France and was now forcing him to leave English territory. The concept of invasion was almost unthinkable to him, but here it was happening now: everyone knew Rathlin was done for. Moggy hadn't told anyone where he was going, which turned out to be a mistake when he encountered engine trouble a few miles away from Rathlin's coast. He was forced to bail out into the Channel, but when he and his Spitfire were found missing back at the airfield everyone assumed that he had been taking a walk during the bombing raid at night, had gone up, and had been shot down during the fight. By the time Moggy had dragged himself, his sodden parachute, and a deflated yellow life raft out of the ocean onto the South Beach, the British forces--Hornet Squadron included--had left without him. Moggy was stranded on Rathlin with the Germans advancing from the French shore.
When the Germans arrived, Moggy, as the only uniformed soldier left on the island, was first taken into custody, but released soon after he explained his situation. He declined the sympathetic Luftwaffe commander's offer to stay on at his barracks at the airfield and took up lodgings over Odds 'N Ends, the owner of the store being a former RAF pilot in the Great War who reluctantly allowed him to stay on the grounds that he was doing a favor for a fellow aviator. Now, he wanders around town annoying Germans, doing odd jobs, and cursing his own bad luck at being counted officially dead and missing a good scrap back in England.
Picture:
See the signature and avatar, s'il vous plait.
Just a note - this is a pretty awesome site, so thanks for starting it! I tried doing a semi-literate World War II-related site a few months ago and it ultimately died, but you seem to have taken off here!
