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Post by MADISON VALENTINE on Sept 24, 2009 20:19:00 GMT
Madison had just arrived in Paris to live with her aunt. She was coming fresh from America and she was sort of nervous that she wouldn't fit in, she knew her southern accent was going to give her away but she didn't really care. That wouldn't get her in trouble right? Her aunt was very German but she was more of a neutral person that didnt favor any side because she knew that could mean trouble for her as well. She ran a huge country style house on the out skirts of the town that a lot of soldiers went to when they needed a place to stay and a good warm meal.
Madison had some medical training from her dad's friend when she was back in America so she helped fix small injuries as well. She missed her father a lot and she was still sad every day that her mother had died. It did make her a little bit more bitter towards German soldiers because one of them killed her mom but she was always told it was an accident. Her mother had gone with her father to a small town that was falling victim to gun fire every day and during one of the shoot outs her mom tried to save a little girl that was standing in the middle of the street. Her mom died, the little girl didn't. She was afraid her dad was going to die. He was a general in the US army and she still had no clue where they stationed him. No one would tell her.
It was finally a quiet day at the house though, there were only 2 people there who weren't soldiers so Madison helped get them situated and they fell asleep. It felt weird to hear everything be so quiet because usually the house was full of people. Her aunt had gone into the city to pick of more stuff and would be gone all day. Finally she was able to do what she wanted and wear what she wanted for a day, she hated always having to wear dresses and skirts and look all proper and trim.
She tugged on a pair of Levi Jeans, cow boy boots that her uncle had made and a plaid red shirt. She pretty much grew up in Texas so it felt good to be back in some cowboy stuff again. She spent most of the morning ridding around the open fields with her horse but then got back to see if any one needed anything. When they didn't she grabbed her guitar and sat up on the thick railing of the porch that wrapped around the entire house and tilted her cowboy hat down over her straight black hair and started to strum some random soft notes with her eyes closed. This was the perfect life for her.
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Post by SGT HUGO STIGLITZ on Sept 25, 2009 14:21:44 GMT
Hugo, go grab some food. Hugo, try to get some laundry done. Hugo, we need some more alcohol. Hugo, go kill that scout over there. Everyone always asked Hugo to do everything just because he was German so he could get away with it. Well, he rather enjoyed that last request. But this time, a few of the men had already sweated up their feet enough to burn holes in them and their clothes were starting to stink. He would have just bought some more, but they needed the money for supplies and food. So, instead, Hugo was sent out to find somewhere to do laundry, even if he had to scare the person into doing it as a German officer.
One of these days, Wicki would have to do it. Hell, he was German, even if he did look like a Jew, how come they didn't send him to do anything? When he left the camp, he began to walk around the woods for a little bit until he stumbled onto an opening. A horse was trotting by, but the girl on the horse had not noticed him and she continued onward. With a small curl of his upper lip, he began the walk across the damn field.
Finally, when he reached the end, the girl had jumped off of her horse and proceeded to play on a guitar. Well hell, if she did not have a giant sign that said "AMERICAN" on her forehead, then her entire wardrobe and everything she was doing screamed a warning to any German, except dear Hugo, of course. Feeling a bit better now that he knew exactly what she was, he approached, speaking in German at first. "hallo dort, junges Mädchen. Sie sehen wie ein Amerikaner aus," he said, not quite expecting her to say anything back.
He stepped up on the porch, carrying the large military looking bag slung over his shoulder. Of course, for the public, he was dressed in a Nazi officer uniform that he just so happened to snag from someone that he killed. So maybe if he were to take off his jacket, his undershirt would have some blood on it, but he would not take off his jacket then. What was an American doing here practically dancing in her own American pride? It was rather risky to do that and the only ones would could get away with it were Aldo, Donny and a few of the other American Basterds, but that was because they had guns, not this girl.
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