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| Benjamin Wingfield; Grenadier 29th Foot | |
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| Topic Started: 30 Sep 2007, 07:03 AM (370 Views) | |
| Aztec Gold | 30 Sep 2007, 07:03 AM Post #1 |
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Username: Benjamin Wingfield How did you find out about AG: I've got a room upstairs, like. First Name: Benjamin Last Name: Wingfield Nickname: None Age: Twenty-five Sex: Male Ethnicity: English Country of Birth: Gibraltar Current Whereabouts: Port Royal Occupation: Grenadier Former Occupation(s): None Parents: Michael (deceased) and Catherine Siblings: David, aged twenty-eight Children: None Avatar: Pending Description: Though height is not a measurement that he considers worth judging, Benjamin stands several inches taller than the average man. Like his father and brother, he possesses a large frame and the brawny limbs to match. His hands and feet are both large, with his foot size making it difficult to properly fit him for shoes. Short fingers are made up for by wide palms, which are helpful for taking and keeping hold of grenades. Benjamin's broad shoulders and chest give him a squarish appearance and where other men's bodies tend to taper at the waist, Benjamin maintains the same breadth as is in his shoulders. Somewhat in keeping with his tree-like appearance, his face and head are both round. His fair-coloured hair hangs mid-way down his back when unbound, which is rare. Most often, he keeps his hair drawn tightly back and coated with candle wax to keep loose strands from falling out of the binding. The resulting pony-tail is twisted around a small, sand-filled leather bag, with a black ribbon tightly wound around the lot. As is the custom, Benjamin powders his hair heavily with flour so that it is not blond, but white. A high, wide forehead nearly overshadows his face. Thick, bushy eyebrows hang over a pair of deep-set blue eyes, between which protrudes a hawkish nose with slightly flared nostrils. A wide mouth and a square chin complete the ape-like appearance of face. Along his jaw is a near-constant light stubble, for no matter how often he shaves, he cannot keep traces of a beard from growing. Along his top lip, a thin fuzz of moustache has taken up permanent residence and he no longer attempts to be completely rid of it. On his right forearm is a long scar that curves up over the top of his arm toward his elbow. It's the remnant of a blow from their father's sword, in the hands of his brother. The scar has faded with time and exposure to the sun, though the scarred tissue leaves a slight furrow in his arm that can be easily noticed if one looks for more than a moment. Benjamin makes little effort to cover or hide the scar, as he considers it as natural a part of him as the nose on his face. Another scar mars the pale skin of his back, also from the blade of their father's sword. His brother's despisal has left two physical marks upon him, though Benjamin only recognises that the scars are the remnants of an unfortunate accident. The sword blade carved a line across his back from right shoulder across to his left armpit, narrowly missing the brachial artery in his left arm. As with the scar on his arm, he regards the marking as a part of him and gives it no special thought, except when another soldier offers some sort of exclamation about it when he bares his back to change shirts or to bathe. It required special tailoring to make his uniform fit properly, but he looks quite smart in his long-tailed scarlet coat, with the yellow facings and highly-polished pewter buttons. Benjamin is careful in maintaining his uniforms and kit, and he is often the smartest turned-out grenadier in the company. When not drilling with the rest of his company, he spends his free time cleaning his white smallclothes, musket, hanger, and each other piece of his equipment. The white crossbelts that hang off either shoulder are always nearly-sparkling from a fresh pipe-claying and the silver plate on his cap is polished twice a day to a gleaming shine. Even his cartridge bag receives a daily coat of paint to keep it the proper shade of black. With a freshly-scrubbed uniform, Benjamin makes a fine sight indeed. From his bearskin cap to his black gaiters and buckled shoes, he is every inch a well-turned-out soldier. On his liberties, he prefers plain clothing, consisting mainly of patched linen breeches and a square-cut cotton shirt, with a threadbare single-breasted, sleeveless linen waistcoat. When the weather is poor, he will grudgingly don a many-times repaired great-coat that often doubles as an pillow. In exchange for a deck of playing cards, Benjamin acquired a brown tricorne from a sergeant being invalided out of the regiment and the hat completes what he believes to be a perfectly respectable off-duty ensemble. Personality: If one were to judge him based purely on his outward appearance and bearing, it would be easy to mistake him for being able-minded and quick of wit. The opposite, however, is true. Benjamin's mind works a little slower than others, owing in part to an inability to handle an overly-advanced or complicated train of thought. Intricate ideas overwhelm him and he does his best to avoid becoming involved in in-depth conversations. He pays close attention to detail, which accounts for his smart appearance. This comprises the bulk of his congitive abilities, however. The "big picture" often escapes him, for his view of the world is limited to, at most, his company. Though simple in thought, he is intelligent in his own way, carrying out his duties ably and well enough to earn the notice of his officers. He knows a good deal about infantry tactics and the various weapons he is required to use. His is a nearly-photographic memory, for only rarely does he forget something he's seen. Those few times where gaps appear in his memory are due to excessive drinking but he supposes it's just as well that he does not remember those times. Benjamin is kind, in the manner of a well-meaning brother. Whilst not especially out-going, he is affable enough on first meeting, and his demeanour tends to improve upon closer acquaintence. Proud of his position, he does not take kindly to suggestions that he is unfit to hold it, and such slights - even if they are only perceived - are answered by a hard pummelling, if the offending party is a fellow private. If it's a corporal, sergeant, or an officer belitting him, he simply endures it, but does not forget it. Unlike other soldiers, Benjamin does not take a great interest in regular drinking or whoring, and in fact he is rather religious. His faith sets him apart from others in his company, for he attends Sunday service without fail and spends at least a few minutes a day in prayer when he can. He has been, however, induced to violence because of his faith, most often by officers who find it easier to spur the grenadier into a fight by goading him about the enemy who wishes to eradicate the Catholic faith. Because of this, the mere suggestion that someone might be against the Catholic church is usually enough to send his fighting blood afire. His temper is not something often felt, but when aroused, it is a fearsome thing. The sergeants and officers superior to him took quick notice of this and use it to their advantage, particularly on overseas service, where combat is often inevitable and constant. When caught up in the fire of anger, Benjamin reacts in only one way - he fights. Either with his fists, his musket, or whatever implement is lying closest to hand. This single-minded conduct proved useful to his company's officers whilst training for war, but it has made adjusting to the more settled life in Jamaica very difficult. Benjamin can be easily confused, circumstances depending. Most notable amongst items that can send him into dithering uncertainty is the matter of his nationality. His father has always described him as an Englishman, even though Benjamin speaks with a discernible Irish lilt in his voice. This is due to spending his childhood around his Irish mother. Other soldiers have described him as "the big Irishman" however, which inevitably causes him to question whether he is English or Irish. The truth is dependant on intrepretation, for he was born to an English father and an Irish mother, on foreign soil. Efforts to explain that concept to him ultimately only prove too frustrating and always end in failure. Strengths & Weaknesses: Strengths: Musketry - Benjamin excels in musket drill and handling. He is a good shot and is in charge of training soldiers in new drills and maintaining competency in established drills. Loyalty - His fierce loyalty to his fellow soldiers serves him well, as he often goes out of his way to ensure that none of them get into serious trouble with local authorities. Memory - He has only to look at a thing once to remember it for life. Weaknesses: Fighting - Benjamin is easily induced to fisticuffs, particularly on matters of his heritage. If someone is foolishly down-talking the Irish, punches are usually not long in coming. He is also defensive on the matter of his brother, even though David has no positive regard for him. Mental ability - Whilst not a simpleton, Benjamin is not as mentally agile as most other men. His cognitive skills are not the best, and he can barely read and write. Religion - His faith has put him at odds with his fellow soldiers, many of whom regard organised religion as "hokey". The beliefs to which he holds also, at times, conflict with his duties, which has endangered his reputation on more than one occasion. History: The second son of Sergeant Michael Wingfield was born in a hospital on Gibraltar, on an uncommonly gloomy day. He was named Benjamin Arthur several days after his birth and to celebrate the occasion, Sergeant Wingfield's platoon held a dance. Such was the spirit of the camp into which Benjamin was born. His infant and toddler years were marked by constant doting upon by soldiers and other camp families alike, with the former teaching him rudimentary soldiering skills as soon as he was old enough to comprehend them. His brother David, admittedly the more mentally-quick of the two, had already mastered the basic skills of an infantryman, despite only being three years old than Benjamin, and resented that his brother was now receiving more attention from the soldiers than he. By the time Benjamin was seven, it was becoming apparent that he was not on the same level mentally as other camp children. He was able enough when it came to anything relating to soldiering, but he was hopeless with most other subjects, such as mathematics and geography. Though the education offered to camp children was minimal, if non-existent, Benjamin struggled to grasp even the basic concepts. In contrast to his brother, his intelligence seemed almost non-existent. His brother treated him with the harsh disrepect typically reserved for useless soldiers. The relationship between siblings soured rapidly, though most of the bad feeling was held by David. The bad feeling gradually escalated from mean-spirited pranks to an explosion of fury, when one evening Benjamin was playing with a specially-dulled bayonet given to him by one of the corporals in his father's platoon. Jealous that his brother was still receiving small gifts and attention from the soldiers, who naturally pitied his simple nature, David began the confrontation by grabbing the bayonet away from Benjamin and giving the younger boy a kick in the ribs. Then, after driving the bayonet into the ground, David fetched their father's sword, which was lying on the cot just inside the barracks. As Benjamin prised his bayonet out of the dirt, his brother came at him The first blow opened a line across the younger boy's back and elicited a shriek. Benjamin heaved his bayonet out of the ground and clumsily tried to use it to parry the next strike. Two soldiers tackled the wild-eyed David before he could take another swing with the sword, whilst another two grabbed Benjamin and bundled him off to the hospital. Their father came barrelling up at a run from the mess tent, a white linen napkin still tucked in his shirt collar. The beating he delivered to the angrily-wailing David made even the watching soldiers wince. Afterward, defiant and angry, David loudly declared that the regular infantry was for fools and simpletons and stormed out of the infantry side of the camp, not even bothering to gather any of his belongings. Word came a day or two later that he had taken refuge in the cavalry barracks. Benjamin had been released from the hospital after half a day, with bandages on his arm and back, and his father made it publicly known that David was no longer considered part of the Wingfield family. The cavalrymen took responsibility for David, and Benjamin did not see his brother again until years later. The incident lingered in his father's memory for years, though within a month it had lost most of its meaning to Benjamin, who came to regard it as little more than a fight. He passed the remainder of his pre-teen years quietly enough, watching the soldiers in his father's platoon at drill and mimicking their movements. He was never one to stir up trouble and in fact he did his utmost to avoid it. From his mother, he received constant tutoring in the lessons of the Bible, from which grew his devotion to the Catholic faith. Where his father shunned religion, his mother embraced it and in turn, so did Benjamin. His Sundays were spent in the back of his father's tent hearing scripture readings from his mother, and later in lessons drawn from the various parts in the Bible. These afternoons helped to shape his views of the world, and also of the people in it. In his estimation, he was a lad destined to serve not only the King, but God as well. When Benjamin was thirteen, the regiment struck its tents and went on the move, sailing to Cape Breton. Benjamin, who had never known anything but the heat and ever-close-by sea, was amazed at the strange land he had come to. As soon as the camp families were relatively settled, he began exploring his new surroundings with earnest. All was not pleasant, however, for Michael took ill with a fever following a conditioning march soon after their arrival. He ignored the alternating rushes of chills and heat, and carried on with his daily routine. The fever, however, took its toll on him and he collapsed in front of his platoon one afternoon and was carried to the hospital by his corporals. He languished in a fevered state for days, slipping in and out of delirium A fortnight of this dragged by before Michael succumbed to the fever, which the battalion surgeon declared to be ague. The sergeant's funeral was an event attended by every man in the regiment. Benjamin attended, wearing his father's bearskin hat, and did his best to present himself like a soldier. After Michael had been laid to rest, life drifted back to its normal pace. The soldiers of his father's platoon took it upon themselves to look after Benjamin and his mother and the pair lived comfortably enough until Benjamin turned sixteen. When his birthday drew near, his father's captain came round, questioning the lad about his future plans. By now, he had grown into a brawny lad who, despite his relative mental slowness, knew a good deal about surviving as an infantryman. A few days after his sixteenth birthday, a sergeant he had never seen before came to collect him, and thus began Benjamin's service. In accordance with the custom, he was taken into Second Battalion for training and regular service. He was determined to perform his best, and applied himself fully to each task given him. The years spent mimicking drill movements and receiving personalised lessons given by soldiers in his father's platoon helped him gain an advantage over other trainees. He was considered suitable for assignment to a platoon after a few weeks and was moved from the recruit barracks to the men's barracks, there to move in with his new platoon. The men welcomed him, more or less, and Benjamin settled into the barracks as does one who is born to such a life. Two years after he enlisted, the regiment moved again, this time to Ireland. His mother was delighted to be returning to the land of her birth and, after several days' discussion with other camp women, decided to leave the camp. She bade Benjamin a tearful farewell and used the last of Michael's saved coins to obtain passage to Cork. Distraught at his mother's departure, Benjamin turned to his tasks for comfort. He scarcely noticed the passage of years until news came that war was declared. The regiment stirred to life and began preparing itself for the probable order to depart for the Continent. Such an order never came. Dismayed at the lack of summoning to war, Benjamin lapsed into a brief depression, which was broken when a detachment of dragoons arrived at their camp. To his surprise and joy, his brother was amongst the dragoons. Benjamin hastened to greet his brother, but was met with harsh words and a wad of phlegm. Unfortunately for David, Benjamin's sergeant was nearby and witnessed the insult being delivered. Bawling for the sentries, the sergeant seized David and had him placed under arrest for assaulting a fellow soldier. The meeting disheartened Benjamin, for he had thought highly of his brother for being a cavalryman, and therefore having the ability to move over great distances much faster than could a common infantryman. His brother earned fifty lashes with the cat for his conduct and a transfer to another regiment. He could not remain in a place so near to his brother, whom he so clearly hated. It saddened him that his own brother could not abide him, for he had nothing but good regard for David. After months of fighting the bureaucracy, and carefully avoiding his brother, David was granted his request and he departed the regiment. Benjamin never saw him again. It was not long after this that orders were received for the Twenty-Ninth to relocate to Jamaica. Much grumbling was heard over this, but the soldiers struck their tents with the grudging grace inherent to their station and the regiment embarked aboard several transports. The voyage was long and uncomfortable, with many men becoming seasick and remaining in that miserable state for the duration. Never more happy to see solid again were they, when at last the shoreline was spotted. Benjamin settled into his new home in Port Royal, not really caring where he lived so long as he was with his regiment. Days faded into weeks, and the regiment eased back into its usual pace of steady camp life. With the other grenadiers in their own portion of the camp, Benjamin set about making a small niche for himself in the town, discovering amongst the resident marine garrison a quiet yet devout Catholic presence. He began spending his Sundays with them, when he could manage to venture into town. The easy camp life came to an end abruptly, when the bulk of the regiment was ordered to Kingston, there to establish a more permanent home. Several grenadiers were called out to remain behind, as part of a mixed company that included some dragoons and regular infantry as well. To his private delight, Benjamin learned he was to stay behind. Nothing pleased him more, for he had become quite fond of the Catholic marines. When the rest of the regiment departed, he was sorry to see them go, but glad that he had been chosen as worthy enough to be part of the detachment. Sample/Past Roleplay: *sneeze* Answer here if you give permission for a link to exist on the website to your bio: Of course! |
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3:07 AM Sep 10
