Name: Donathon Miracúl
Gender: Male
Age: 33
Occupation before the war: Factory floor manager
Original country: USA
Civilian, Rebel, Prisoner, or Soldier?: Soldier, Lieutenant in the U.S. Army
Current State: ???
Personality: Silent and timid. Will try to avoid shooting a man.
Picture of yourself**:
Inventory:
Nothing.
The dawn of February 5th, 1948 was a bitter one. Tommorow is my birthday. Tommorow is execution day. As I sit in the mind-numbingly cold bunker somewhere in the United States, where the national socialists had set up some kind of prison camp. I was tied to a chair, blood streaked down my forehead. It was five years, two months ago to this day when the national socialists began their push on Illinois. At first, the invading force was small. We could handle them no problem. Then, over the ridge came the tanks, the half tracks, and soldiers. Thousands upon thousands of soldiers. I still remember that day... I remember the day when democracy started to die.
We had repelled the first wave of Germans. We celebrated. We fired our guns into the air. We hugged eachother. That was the biggest mistake of our lives.
I heard the latch on the door click. The first thing I saw was the boot, then the gray uniform of the SS member, whip-in-hand.
