It is spring, 1944. Nazi Germany has taken over most of Europe and parts of Africa. The Allied Forces are planning on making their final push into France and into Paris to stop Adolf Hitler and his armies from gaining control of the western world. Furs and humans alike volunteer for serving their countries as thousands are dying on the battlefields of Europe for what seems to be a losing battle. The Red Army has managed to fight the Axis back to gain the land they had lost as the British, Americans, Canadians, and the resistance of France and Italy struggle to make their final stand. Nazi Germany has taken the strong hold of Europe and is now making plans to cross overseas into North America after having captured the majority of Soviet Russia. The Axis powers have set up numerous labor and extermination camps in the east for prisoners of war and enemies of the state after being over populated back in Germany and most of the fighting is concentrated along The English Channel in France. The United Kingdom, being the last obstacle standing between Nazi Germany and the Americas.
As countries on both sides suffer heavy casualties, conscription is introduced to all countries involved (mandatory enlistment for every able bodied man over the age of 18). Everyone must fight for their lives and their countries in this battle. Hope is slowly fading for the Allies and momentum is booming on the front for German forces. Will Nazi Germany take over the rest of the world or will the Allies prevail? It’s a battle that everyone wants to win. Never give up, never surrender.
READ OOC THREAD BEFORE POSTING!
Spike sat behind the fence rolling a mudding cigar between his paws, containing more dirt than real tobacco. He leaned his MG42 against the wall next to him as he lit his perfected rolled cigarette, watching the new recruits in the camp awaiting their orders, some being lucky enough to be sent into a squad to be shipped to the Front in the next couple of days. He rested his polished boots on an ammunation crate as he awaited his newly assigned squad. His last squad had been killed in an artillery strike, Spike being the only one who survived. So it goes. He leaned back, staring at each of the faces of war before him, wondering which had the "privillage" to fight along side him. He hung his helmet on the barrel of his machine gun and pulled out a letter from his mother sent a while back from the inside of his combat jacket. He'd read it several times. It was special to him, his good luck charm. He believed it was the only thing keeping him from getting killed in battle. He read his mother's elegant hand writing on the yellowed crumpled recylcled paper, one of the many materials hard to come by during a time like this. He sighed and rubbed his fingers along the black ink, wishing he could go back home to her loving arms. Spike folded the paper back up and tucked it away back in the pocket from which it had came from. He stood up, locking the cigarette between his lips, picking up his helmet and tucking it up under his left arm, and taking hold of the machine gun in the right. He walked towards the gates of the camp awaiting his new squad assignment.
Topic: Furs At War (Read 9370 times)