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Post by Furey "Blondie" Campellone on Dec 21, 2010 20:57:10 GMT -5
Stand At Attention, Flyer! You’re standing in the Headquarter of the… 404th Fighter Bomber Group! "IGNE FERROQUE HOSTEM ARMATUM CONTERE" Battles Fought: One Battles Won: One Battles Drawn: None Battles Lost: None (PC)Planes Shot Down: None (NPC)Planes Shot Down: None (PC)Planes Lost: None (NPC)Planes Lost: None Armory V-183 Flying Pancake 1x ~Furey Campellone P-47 Thunderbolt 5x ~Divisional Property Convoy Truck 4x ~Divisional Property Jeep 3x ~Divisional Property Divisional Fund: 100cp ______________________________________________________ ~Divisional Bulletins~
Make sure to get your new Parachutes at the Divisional Supply Depot! "This is the Army" Will be showing in the Rec. Hall on Friday, Be there, or be Square! It'll be Really Swell!
______________________________________________________ ~The Majors Favorite Quotes~
"Why does the Air Force need expensive new bombers? Have the people we've been bombing over the years been complaining?" ~ George Wallace
"When I lost my rifle, the Army charged me 25 dollars. That is why in the Navy the Captain goes down with the ship."
"Never interrupt your enemy when he is making a mistake." ~ Napoleon
"Never in the field of human conflict, has so much, been owed by so many, to so few!" ~ Prime Minister Sir Winston Churchill
______________________________________________________ Member Roster: Officers: Colonel: Major: Furey Campellone Captain: 1st Lieutenant: 2nd Lieutenant: Jason WilliamsNon-Commissioned Officers: 1st Sergeant: Master Sergeant: Technical Sergeant: Staff Sergeant/Technician 3rd Grade: Sergeant/Technician 4th Grade: Corporal/Technician 5th Grade: Private First Class: Private: Squadrons Divisional Commanding Officer: ____________________ 506th Fighter SquadronCommanding Officer: Furey CampelloneExecutive Officer: Harold G. 'Hal' Shook Vought XF5U Piloted by Furey CampelloneNickname; “Furey's Breakfast Bomb” Equipped With; - Four 20mm Cannons
- Four 500 Pound Bombs
P-47 Thunderbolt Piloted by Harold G. 'Hal' Shook Nickname: “Rae” Equipped With; - Eight Fifty Caliber Machine Guns
- Ten 5 Inch Rockets
P-47 Thunderbolt Piloted by Captain Robert Blackburn Nickname; “Chow Hound” Equipped With; - Eight Fifty Caliber Machine Guns
- Four 250 Pound Bombs
____________________ 508th Fighter SquadronCommanding Officer: Jason WilliamsExecutive Officer: Lieutenant Howard Curran P-47 Thunderbolt Piloted by Jason WilliamsNickname: ''Grim Reaper'' Equipped with; - Eight Fifty Caliber Machine Guns
- Ten 5 inch Rockets
- Up to 2,000lbs Worth of Bombs
P-47 Thunderbolt Piloted by Lieutenant Howard Curran Nickname: “Kansas Tornado II” Equipped With; - Eight Fifty Caliber Machine Guns
- Ten 5 Inch Rockets
P-47 Thunderbolt Piloted by Lieutenant Mill Thompson Nickname: “Balls Out" Equipped With; - Eight Fifty Caliber Machine Guns
- Ten 5 Inch Rockets
Remember, Keep Calm, and Carry On Formally, Furey A. CampelloneFurey A. CampelloneCommanding Officer of the 404th Fighter Bomber Squadron 85th Fighter Wing Ninth Airforce
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Post by Furey "Blondie" Campellone on Dec 21, 2010 20:11:33 GMT -5
I need to update mine, it's been a while XD Text: Zeke Sturm, German Anti-Nazi Images: Staff Sergeant logo, Pic of Spiers from Band of Brothers preferrably cropped to not include the background, just Spiers Clicky! p Special Colors None really, just something to fit the new theme I might be able to do this for you. If you saw, i also have a signature shop, and i made quite a few people's signatures for them on this site, including people like Wiktor Boguslaw's. Its up to you though.
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Post by Furey "Blondie" Campellone on Dec 21, 2010 20:00:57 GMT -5
God in heaven, Men, you nearly gave me a heart attack when i signed on this afternoon and saw all of these people online! I wish i had been told that the site was back on, so i could Report for Role-Call! It seemed no matter how hard I had tried, i could never get the site to stay on top.
This site was also my first RPG, and no matter how dead it looked i kept coming back, and you have no idea how much you made me smile when i saw all of these fine members online, many of them whom i grew to know very well, and many of which I enjoyed to Roleplay With.
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Post by Furey "Blondie" Campellone on Sept 1, 2010 14:54:33 GMT -5
Welcome back, Masterson.
Yeah, as you can see, I added a navy section, and a few other things like an updated airforce section, and additional things in the armor section have been added. Austin doesn't really come on alot anymore, so as Major i'm pretty much the "Un-Official Allied Supreme Commander". The 101st is, regrettably, Dead. Most if not all the members are gone, and the few that remain have moved to the 1st armored division.
In addition, thanks for your service, bud.
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Post by Furey "Blondie" Campellone on Aug 4, 2010 22:29:58 GMT -5
Allons enfants de la Patrie Le jour de gloire est arrivé ! Contre nous de la tyrannie L'étendard sanglant est levé Entendez-vous dans nos campagnes Mugir ces féroces soldats? Ils viennent jusque dans vos bras. Égorger vos fils, vos compagnes! The French National Anthem. Furey had heard so much of that song in the past few weeks that he began to grow sick of the damn thing. The British had their ‘God Save the King’, the Germans had the ‘Horst Wessel Lied’, the French their ‘Le Marseilles’, but above all, the Americans had the best. ‘The Star Spangled Banner’ was the song that played in Furey’s head every time his plane dove down on a German Stuka, every time he shot a German Messerschmit down. It was a glorious anthem, and a Glorious song to hear in your head as you pushed down on the wheel of his plane, and dove onto an enemy. But, Back to the French National Anthem. From the first time he arrived in a French town, riding aboard a Jeep with a Brigadeer General, the French national anthem could be heard playing. When he rode into the first Free French Airfield, Actually in France, he was greeted by the French National anthem, and a French Officer in a dress uniform that Furey almost thought was from the French Revolution. It was played as Furey rode in a Convertible Staff-Car, down the Champ D’Elysees in the Liberation Parade. It was even played in the streets that Furey was driving his Jeep down. Furey looked around, and yawned as the Air blew over his Crusher-Style, white officers cap, with the Gold Majors Insignia placed on it. His jeep seemingly glided across the French streets, and as it weaved and woo’ed through the streets, turning around corners and speeding down the streets, Furey smiled for the first time in a few weeks. The past weeks had been stressing on him. His commanders were arguing on whether to permenantly ground him, and make him a Land-Based commander, or to let him continue flying high in the sky. He needed a drink. His jeep roamed the streets, wising by cars and maneuvering through large crowds of people exchanging monies for wine and bread, the occasional flower being tossed into Furey’s jeep when the people realized he was an Allied Officer. He smiled, he enjoyed receiving flowers, and there were always fresh flowers in a vase on his secretaries desk, which he enjoyed smelling. He looked around, and slowed his Jeep down as a bar came into view. He pulled it to a stop in-front of the bar, and hopped off of it, taking out the keys and putting them into his pocket before stepping across the road, and opening the door to the bar. As he walked in, the smell of Cigarette smoke and beer was evident, and he took a deep breath as he walked into the main area of the bar. A few soldiers took note of the Major, and saluted, but he dismissed them, as they were on leave, and shouldn’t have to salute. He found a seat, next to a man he didn’t recognize, and ordered a strong, thick Whisky with a bit Of German Schnauppes mixed into it, before having it Shaken. As the Bartender brought the large glass back, Furey removed his Crusher Cap, and set it down onto the bar, before taking a long sip of the glass, letting the smooth and cool, yet strong liquid roll across his tongue, and down his throat. He set the glass down, sighing in content, before noticing the man next to him, a Sergeant, was obviously troubled by something. So much so, that he’d gone through the beer that was almost full, in the short period of time that spanned Furey sitting down, and looking back at him. “Whats wrong Sergeant?” He asked, before waving the bartender over, and saying “Another beer for this Sergeant, its on me.”He looked back at the Sergeant, and waited for a response.
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Post by Furey "Blondie" Campellone on Jul 28, 2010 7:38:51 GMT -5
My favorite war movies are all old, probably ones you guys havent ever heard of, XD. My favorite war time movie ever is called "The Longest Day", and it was extremely good in my opinion. Unlike movies today that show one specific point of the Normandy Invasion, this showed views from British, American, Canadian, and I believe Polish soldiers as they invaded by sea and by air. The movie also happened to get Forty Two Stars
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Post by Furey "Blondie" Campellone on Apr 2, 2010 16:42:59 GMT -5
Furey nodded, smiling as he took a seat, and watched as Hans took a seat also. He looked around, before noticing that Harry was offering him and Hans a Cigarette. Furey shook his head, pulling out a package of Cigars, saying ”I’ll one up you, Have a cigar.”. Hans didn’t hesitate, taking a cigar from the leather holder, and biting the end of it, spitting it out onto the ground before pulling out a lighter, and lighting it. Furey smiled, lighting his own cigar as he bit the end out, spitting it onto the ground just as the German did, and inhaled it deeply. He looked at Harry, and said ”I haven’t seen you in some time, but I see your on leave in Paris. How has this city treated you?” Before Harry could reply, the counter attendant delivered His, and his Generals, cup of coffee, and Furey took out his cigar for a moment, taking a long sip of the coffee, and gave a long sigh of content. He looked around, and returned his looked to Harry, but before they could strike up a conversation, another allied soldier made his way over to them, introducing himself as John Whitmoor. Furey nodded, saying ”Nice to see you again, John.”. When John asked if he could sit with them, he simply stated ”Im a guest of Mr. Hamilton, you must ask him first.” Furey looked around as John took a seat, and spoke to Hans as he sipped his coffee, and smoked his cigar. Furey smiled as Hans introduced himself, saying ” Hallo, John. Ich bin General Hans von Krueger von der deutschen Luftwaffe.”.(Hello, John. I am General Hans Von Krueger, from the German Luftwaffe.) Furey smiled, sipping his coffee, before looking towards John and Harry, saying ”Hans here only knows a bit of English, and they are the lyrics to the 1917 song “A bachelor Gay.”, by Peter Dawson.. As soon as Furey said the title of the old 1917 play, Hans looked over at him, and smiled, before taking off his visor cap and setting it on the table, and soon Furey did the same, running his hand through his hair, and looking around, waiting for someone to strike up a conversation.
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Post by Furey "Blondie" Campellone on Apr 1, 2010 14:13:14 GMT -5
Username: Burkhalter Character Name: Furey Campellone Rank: Major What Army Will You Serve Beneath? : US(American) Nationality: Italian Character History: Furey Campellone was born on March 23rd, 1926, to a moderately Wealthy Italian family in the countryside of Sicily. Being a full blooded, Home Generation Italian, he had been brought up to appreciate the fine arts, classical music, and the other natural things that an Italian should love, such as Wine, Food, and the Occasional Waltz. His friends affectionately call him “Blondie”, due to his full head of platinum blonde hair.
As a child, he was fascinated with flight. He would often pretend to be a fighter pilot, flying around his home, much to the dismay of his mother. He would spend some of his spare time, while not flying around, building model planes, and flying them around his home. His pride and joy, though, was a wooden model of an Italian Dirigible, which he would often fly around in his home, careful not to crash into anything, and show his friends as they played in the peaceful countryside of Sicily.
As he grew older, he learned of the great feats that his Grandfather committed in the Great War. He would spend most of the time on his vacations visiting his grandparents on the coast of Sicily, listening to the fascinating stories that his grandfather would tell him about flying high through the skies of Europe, shooting down German Planes, and dodging Flak. As he continued on aging, he would learn more and more of the actual aspects of flight, including the great thrill it could bring to a man, all from his grandfather.
As he grew older, he discovered the large level of hatred his two little brothers had for him, and as the years and years went on, the signs became larger and larger. He would learn that they hated him because he was the family favorite, something that would become blatantly obvious in the future. He learned, at the age of 18, that his two little brothers went so far to discredit him as the perfect son, as to Burn their uncle’s car, and blame him on it. He would obviously innocent, and when they were caught, they hated him even more for not getting in trouble.
As the years came and went, he would learn on Christmas Eve, 1937, that his whole family, over 50 people has been saving up money, and they were sending him, his grandfather, and his grandmother, to America, where they would be safe from the clutches of Benito Mussolini. It seemed they knew of the war to come.
So he did so, and on January 29th, 1938, with all of the money that he had to his name, and all of his grandparents money, His family saw him, and his grandparents, off, he couldn’t help but feel extremely happy, he had learned about the great things in America, and with what would later be 20,000 U.S Dollars, he could afford to live well with his grandparents.
When they arrived in America, he and his Grandparents searched for the perfect home, and soon found it in a little town of less than 400 people, on a beautiful thing called a “Barrier Reef”, a town called “Stone Harbor”. He and His Grandparents soon bought the home of their dreams, a Three Bedroom, two bathrooms, home, that had a Beautiful Kitchen, and even a Den! And what made it perfect, at-least to Furey, was that it was on Right on the beach.
As the next year went by, he finally made the decision to join the U.S Army Air Corps, and on his Birthday, March 23rd, 1939, his grandfather dropped him off at the front gate of a training airfield for men hoping to be Officers in the U.S Army Air Corps. As he rose through the lower officer ranks, completing basic and advanced training, he would often be the one selected to “Show Off”, As the Americans called it, in front of visiting important people, ranging from the future Top General of the U.S Air force, Curtis LeMay, to even Franklin Roosevelt! But what stoke out to him the most, and stuck with him though-out his years, was when a veteran of the First World War, said “The last time I saw a pilot that good was when I was shot down by Von Richter himself!”
This made him a very proud man, at the age of only 23; he was being compared to the greatest ace that ever lived!
As the years continued on at a slow pace before the war, he found himself eventually graduating with one of the highest ranks yet, and Top of High Class of Three Hundred and Twelve, A Captain.
When the War rolled up, he found himself volunteering to go over to England and fight the constant German Onslaught, which would later be known as “The Battle of Britain”. This is where he scored his first Nine Kills, making him almost a Double Ace. He did this one fateful beautiful morning when he discovered an armada of Unprotected German Bombers, shooting down nine of a pack of ten. He never regretted shooting down those nine, but what he did regret, was running out of ammunition before the 10th was shot down, he still wonders, to this day, who that bomber killed, in a fiery blaze of pain and Terror.
That night, as the news of his fantastic feat raced throughout the airfield, and soon around southern England, he got the chance, actually, the privilege, to write home to his grandparents. In that letter, he wrote that today, he had shot down nine German Bombers. Nine!
In the coming weeks, as the news raced up the high command, that an Italian Immigrant, whom could barley speak a work of English when he first signed up for the air core, had committed a feat that not even an Englander had committed yet, he would be the proud recipient of the Defense Distinguished Service medal, and soon promoted to Major. He was only 25, a major at 25!!!
As the Second World War continued on at a steady pace, Furey found he being able to shoot down, and shooting down, eleven more planes. By the end of the war, he had the title of Quadruple Ace; a very rare titled, and had shot down 20 planes, two of them Top German Aces.
Although he never talks about it, a rumor has it that he had participated, and was even a major player in, the Black Market.
At the end of the war, the Air Corps had him flying German Fighter Jets all across Europe, ferrying them to a safe place until they were shipped back home to America and England.
When he finally retired, He achieved the rank of Colonel, and returned to his little him in New Jersey. He was only 32. By the end of his career in the Air-Force, he found himself with a large number of medals, ranging from the Second World War, to when he was recalled to the Korean and Vietnam War.
• Distinguished Defense Service Medal • Air-Core distinguished Service Medal • Silver Star • Bronze Star • Legion of Merit- Chief Commander • Airman’s Medal • Distinguished Flying Cross • Aerial Achievement Medal. Writing Sample: Furey looked to both sides, out of his plane, as he flew rapidly through German Airspace. He had been cut off from the rest of his Fighter wing when they flew into some heavy cloud cover. He looked around, somewhat frantic but still very calm. He had some sort of feeling that someone was Following him.
He continued to fly through the sky with great precicion, trying to locate the rest of the men in his fighter wing, and looked around as he flew through heavy cloud cover.
Soon enough, he could hear the silent drone of another plane, he knew it wasn’t his because it was much louder, and as he flew through heavy cloud cover, he soon found himself smack dab in the middle of a fleet of Convoy planes, at-least thirty ME323’s, gigantic six prop engine Tank and Supply Transports. He attempted to get into formation atop of them, trying to trick them into thinking that he was a German Fighter that had come to escort them to their destination. Soon enough, he found himself pulling down on the wheel of his P-47, and aiming almost straight down, firing into the cockpit of one of the extremely heavy planes.
Within a moment, the red hot lead that was flying through the wooden and glass frame of the plane caught on fire, and he watched a spectacular explosion as the front half of the plane fell off, and the tale tipped forward, out spilling a Panzer Four, and Fuel.
But now, he had lost the element of surprise, and found the rest of the Planes shooting back at him, their tale and dorsal gunners firing their MG34’s at him, attempting to hit him as much as they could. He felt a few bullets hit him, but they simply dinged right off, and he continued on flying.
He decided to go after another plane, and soon found himself a great target; one of the large planes had yellow stripes on its wings, indicating it was a squadron leader. He got in line behind it, dodging the lead that the tail gunner was spitting at him, and opened fire, riddling the back of the plane with lead and tracer rounds, which soon caught the wooden plane on fire, and he watched it tumble to the ground below him.
After a moment, watching the plane majestically fall into the abyss below, he realized that his plane was being riddled with bullets, and soon took a steep dive, and turned his plane around, and decided that now would be a good time to head home, as he checked his ammunition, he found that it was almost empty, and his fuel was running out.
As he made his way back to his Airbase in England, he allowed himself the Permission to think his own thoughts for just a moment. He thought of all of the planes that he had shot down so far, a total, counting today, of 13. He wondered about those crewmen, the pilots, and their families, what it must have been like for them to get the call home that their brother, or boyfriend, maybe their father or husband, was shot down by an American fighter pilot while serving a grateful duty for the Luftwaffe, and for the fatherland.
Then, he thought of all of the innocent lives, the lives of the British civilians, which had been ruined by the constant German Blitz. He soon found the small amount of pity that had just entered his body disappear in an instant, and found it being replaced by content, he knew that he was getting revenge for all of the people that had died, and all of the people that had been wounded, or lost a family member.
After an hour of flying, he found himself finally entering British airspace, and as he came in for a landing, he watched his Fuel Gauge finally read “Empty”. He attempted to pull out his landing gear, but found that they were both stuck in; some German Bullets had broken off the Hydraulic Lines in his Landing Gear.
His head was racing, and he decided, at that very moment, to do what was one of the riskiest things a pilot could possible do, a belly landing. He came in slow, careful enough to be at one of the best possible angles so that his plane wouldn’t stop with its tail straight up in the air, or even his plane flipping upside down, and as his planes belly scraped against the ground, the bumps and craters from German bombs shaking him, he watched a crew with a medic truck racing after him. He felt his plane finally slow to a stop, and it was all quiet.
After a moment, he lifted his canopy off, and looked around, taking a deep breath of the lovely British clean air that he loved so very dearly. He looked around, and soon enough, the medics came up, and said “Furey, you alright!? That was a risky landing!”
He looked at the medics, and simply said “Yea, I’m fine, but the two German planes I shot down aren’t!”
He and the medics both laughed, and after a moment of silence, they helped him out of his almost completely wrecked plane. After he got out, he got a good look at the plane, its underbelly was torn to pieces, he had bullet holes all over, and he was surprised that it hadn’t crashed mid flight!
As he made his way over to his Commanding Officer to report the two kills, his only thought was still that Falling Panzer Four, he hoped it would land right on-top of the German Fuhrer…..
When he walked into his C.O’s office, he looked up at Furey, and said “Let me guess, Five more Victims to the Furious Furey!?”
Furey smiled, and said “No Sir! Only two today! But one of them was carrying a tank!”
“Well, I suppose that’ll do, good work Blondie.” Approved/Denied?: Approved Staff Notes: This appliction was accidently deleted some time after acception, and after recent request, I have decided to post it back up.
~Furey Campellone
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