LUDWIG BEILSCHMIDT
Name: Leutnant Ludwig Beilschmidt
Age: 20
Nationality: German
Prisoner/Guard: Guard
The time they’ve been in the camp: One and a half months
Appearance: Ludwig has always been tall for his age, and now stands at an imposing 6’2”. He is very masculine in his appearance, with defined bone structure, a strong jaw and broad shoulders. He’s reasonably well built and strong, but not overly muscular. Due to his poor health, he has never been able to build himself up to his ideal size, but still manages to keep in very good shape.
His eyes are a light, cold blue, always looking keen and slightly worn out. He has bright blond hair, meticulously combed back with hair wax every morning, and is always clean shaven. His complexion is quite pale, and it easily shows bruises and blushes. He wears his uniform smartly, keeping his clothes clean and neat, and his boots polished, almost to an obsessive extent.
Personality: Ludwig did well at school, not due to any great intelligence or skill- he is not intelligent in the least- but he has a good memory, allowing him to learn things easily by rote. His pride and desire for self improvement means that he always puts utmost effort into everything he does, regardless of how successful he may or may not be. Despite his hard work at school, however, he is not particularly perceptive, and he is quite gullible. His naivety and lack of curiosity make him a good soldier, following orders to the letter, never questioning the reasoning or motivation of his superiors, but these qualities also make him easy to trick and take advantage of. He can see through obvious lies and tends not to trust prisoners as a rule, but he’s easily won over by confident, charismatic people. He is reasonably well read, and has common sense, but he falls for seemingly obvious tricks very quickly. Ludwig tends to be quite stiff and formal, and doesn’t like talking any more than is necessary. He is happy to exert control over others, even if he’s not particularly good at it yet, and can be domineering and bossy when higher figures of authority aren’t around.
Ludwig’s best traits are his bravery and loyalty; he is willing to die for a cause he believes in, and will follow someone he trusts to the end of the earth. Although admirable qualities, in his predicament they could well lead to his early demise were he fighting in the War, rather than guarding the camp.
Although he doesn’t take any particular pleasure in seeing others suffer, he can tolerate it. If he believes a person deserves punishment, he can deliver it, no matter how brutal, without batting an eyelid. He has a short temper, and if he is sure it won’t get him into trouble, can quickly resort to violence to end a dispute. It is these traits that led his seniors in training to believe that he would make a good guard.
His illness has given him something of an inferiority complex, and any accusations of weakness will quickly rile him up. He feels the need to prove himself physically if challenged, though he knows his limits, and will not attempt to exceed them unless vitally necessary.
History: Ludwig grew up in quite a poor family in Berlin. His father had been unemployed since the Great War, and his mother had to take whatever work she could find to support her family, as well as taking care of the children and the housework, which her husband seemed opposed to and incapable of. When the Nazi Party came to power, the economy began to improve and Mr Beilschmidt found employment again- the family were faring better financially now, and the dynamic of the household improved significantly; Mr Beilschmidt finally felt he had a purpose and a sense of superiority now he was in full time employment, so he no longer took out his frustration on his wife and children.
When Ludwig was 3 years old, he developed a near fatal case of pneumonia which, due to lack of proper treatment and care, left him with permanent damage to his lungs and trachea, resulting in undiagnosed respiratory problems. Living in the dirty, unsanitary conditions he did when he grew up, his condition didn’t get any better as he got older. As a child, he loved sports and physical activities, though his respiratory condition held him back, as too much strain would quickly leave him short of breath, much to his own frustration and the entertainment of other children at school and in his neighbourhood, who picked on his physical weakness. The only sport he could do without much trouble was swimming at an indoor pool, which he did nearly every day from the age of seven. It increased his strength and stamina, and although he still couldn’t run very far or do long stretches of exercise, he was good at short bursts of activity, such as in lifting weights or playing football.
He was well behaved as a child, always conforming to the rules and regulations laid down by his parents and his teachers, accepting their orders obediently, and taking punishments and beatings without doubting their judgement. He would follow instructions to the letter which, although earning him high grades in logical subjects like maths and science, saw him fail in creative pursuits. Luckily, creativity was not where boys needed to excel under the Nazi regime, but in sports and games. He was never the strongest or fastest, despite his best efforts and daily practise, but he stayed at an acceptable level. He was heavily involved in his local Hitlerjugend group as a teenager, and was firmly committed to the Nazi Party’s policies, coming from a conservative family, and thankful for the financial improvements in their lives.
When war was declared, Ludwig was just as keen as every other young man in the country to go and fight for the fatherland, though he was a few months too young at the start of the War. When he was finally permitted to join once he’d turned 18, his army training proved difficult, as he’d assumed it would. When assessed by a doctor before beginning his training, he only just met requirements for stamina and ability thanks to his condition, and the training period proved gruelling; although he should have been sent to the front within months of beginning training, it was nearly two years before they judged his physical condition was not good enough for combat, but he was a good soldier and a better shot, so he fit for work as a guard. It was not the outcome he’d hoped for, and needless to say he was frustrated to be designated such a lowly position- none of the honour and glory of battle, just stuck in a camp guarding rowdy foreigners.
He hasn’t been at the stalag long, and is still finding his feet, among both prisoners and guards. He’s used to taking orders, not being in charge of others, and while he thinks he’s pretty good at keeping things in order, he’s willing to admit he’s not got the skills for this yet.
RP Sample:
It was a little after dawn and the camp was still asleep. The usual clamour and chatter from the barracks had given way to restful silence, if only for the night. It would be over in a few minutes, Ludwig knew, but he could pretend otherwise; that this early morning tranquillity, this seemingly total solitude so far up in the watch tower would last forever. The sky was pale grey, no discernable clouds above the camp, just an impermeable grey mist that seemed to stretch for miles each way you looked, over fields and forests to the very horizon. A blackbird perched on a curl of barbed wire below him squawked hoarsely, its call ringing out through the camp to deaf ears.
He inhaled deeply, closing his eyes momentarily, trying to imagine himself elsewhere. As much as he’d wanted to live out in the country as a child, this was a far cry from anything he’d hoped for- no mountains or lakes, just flat meadows and forests full of dreary flora and dull fauna. He might as well have been on a battlefield. Well, he’d much rather be there anyway- that was where the heroes were, the brave ones fighting for their country, for the good of their families and their countrymen. This was no place for a soldier like Ludwig. No place for any strong, young patriot. All the same, these quiet moments were something he could probably get used to.
Somewhere in the camp a whistle was blown. It was time for the prisoners to wake up for their meagre breakfasts and continue their meaningless, petty lives within the confines of the high fences of the camp. Some might have work to look forward to, or maybe they’d be lucky enough to get Red Cross parcels today. He wished something would happen, anything that might wake this dead place up a little. His fingers brushed impatiently against the handle of his revolver. He hadn’t fired it once yet, still fully loaded, barrel still cool. His hands itched to pull the trigger, to shoot something. He’d had good aim in army training, better than most, and quick reflexes, it seemed a waste of a perfectly good soldier and a perfectly good gun not to shoot anything. This was a war, after all, he was meant to kill. His hand gripped tight around the handle, fingers staying well away from the trigger.
There was still another hour before another guard took over his watch. He hoped it would pass quickly so that he could eat his breakfast and catch up on the hours of sleep he’d missed up here in the tower. Whoever was coming to replace him would be late, he was sure, and he doubted he’d get much rest before being woken up by some disturbance or another. Still, the hardships he encountered at the stalag were nothing in comparison to his friends fighting the real war, so he couldn’t complain, he supposed. He watched a pair of blackbirds hopping around in a puddle take flight as a heavy set older guard marched towards the prisoners’ barracks, with the determined step of a man without purpose. He prayed he would get out of here before he became that same guard.
Out of character
Name: Katy
Timezone/Country: GMT England
Age: 19
A little about yourself: I’m the spawn of a history teacher with an obsession for fandom and too much free time at university.
Anything else: First- yellow. Second- I know Ludwig’s illness is OOC, but in researching guards at POW camps in the Second World War, it was clear most of the young, fit, able soldiers went off to fight, and that you either had to be old, sick or in ill favour with the government to wind up as a guard. I’ll try to keep him as in character as possible!
Name: Leutnant Ludwig Beilschmidt
Age: 20
Nationality: German
Prisoner/Guard: Guard
The time they’ve been in the camp: One and a half months
Appearance: Ludwig has always been tall for his age, and now stands at an imposing 6’2”. He is very masculine in his appearance, with defined bone structure, a strong jaw and broad shoulders. He’s reasonably well built and strong, but not overly muscular. Due to his poor health, he has never been able to build himself up to his ideal size, but still manages to keep in very good shape.
His eyes are a light, cold blue, always looking keen and slightly worn out. He has bright blond hair, meticulously combed back with hair wax every morning, and is always clean shaven. His complexion is quite pale, and it easily shows bruises and blushes. He wears his uniform smartly, keeping his clothes clean and neat, and his boots polished, almost to an obsessive extent.
Personality: Ludwig did well at school, not due to any great intelligence or skill- he is not intelligent in the least- but he has a good memory, allowing him to learn things easily by rote. His pride and desire for self improvement means that he always puts utmost effort into everything he does, regardless of how successful he may or may not be. Despite his hard work at school, however, he is not particularly perceptive, and he is quite gullible. His naivety and lack of curiosity make him a good soldier, following orders to the letter, never questioning the reasoning or motivation of his superiors, but these qualities also make him easy to trick and take advantage of. He can see through obvious lies and tends not to trust prisoners as a rule, but he’s easily won over by confident, charismatic people. He is reasonably well read, and has common sense, but he falls for seemingly obvious tricks very quickly. Ludwig tends to be quite stiff and formal, and doesn’t like talking any more than is necessary. He is happy to exert control over others, even if he’s not particularly good at it yet, and can be domineering and bossy when higher figures of authority aren’t around.
Ludwig’s best traits are his bravery and loyalty; he is willing to die for a cause he believes in, and will follow someone he trusts to the end of the earth. Although admirable qualities, in his predicament they could well lead to his early demise were he fighting in the War, rather than guarding the camp.
Although he doesn’t take any particular pleasure in seeing others suffer, he can tolerate it. If he believes a person deserves punishment, he can deliver it, no matter how brutal, without batting an eyelid. He has a short temper, and if he is sure it won’t get him into trouble, can quickly resort to violence to end a dispute. It is these traits that led his seniors in training to believe that he would make a good guard.
His illness has given him something of an inferiority complex, and any accusations of weakness will quickly rile him up. He feels the need to prove himself physically if challenged, though he knows his limits, and will not attempt to exceed them unless vitally necessary.
History: Ludwig grew up in quite a poor family in Berlin. His father had been unemployed since the Great War, and his mother had to take whatever work she could find to support her family, as well as taking care of the children and the housework, which her husband seemed opposed to and incapable of. When the Nazi Party came to power, the economy began to improve and Mr Beilschmidt found employment again- the family were faring better financially now, and the dynamic of the household improved significantly; Mr Beilschmidt finally felt he had a purpose and a sense of superiority now he was in full time employment, so he no longer took out his frustration on his wife and children.
When Ludwig was 3 years old, he developed a near fatal case of pneumonia which, due to lack of proper treatment and care, left him with permanent damage to his lungs and trachea, resulting in undiagnosed respiratory problems. Living in the dirty, unsanitary conditions he did when he grew up, his condition didn’t get any better as he got older. As a child, he loved sports and physical activities, though his respiratory condition held him back, as too much strain would quickly leave him short of breath, much to his own frustration and the entertainment of other children at school and in his neighbourhood, who picked on his physical weakness. The only sport he could do without much trouble was swimming at an indoor pool, which he did nearly every day from the age of seven. It increased his strength and stamina, and although he still couldn’t run very far or do long stretches of exercise, he was good at short bursts of activity, such as in lifting weights or playing football.
He was well behaved as a child, always conforming to the rules and regulations laid down by his parents and his teachers, accepting their orders obediently, and taking punishments and beatings without doubting their judgement. He would follow instructions to the letter which, although earning him high grades in logical subjects like maths and science, saw him fail in creative pursuits. Luckily, creativity was not where boys needed to excel under the Nazi regime, but in sports and games. He was never the strongest or fastest, despite his best efforts and daily practise, but he stayed at an acceptable level. He was heavily involved in his local Hitlerjugend group as a teenager, and was firmly committed to the Nazi Party’s policies, coming from a conservative family, and thankful for the financial improvements in their lives.
When war was declared, Ludwig was just as keen as every other young man in the country to go and fight for the fatherland, though he was a few months too young at the start of the War. When he was finally permitted to join once he’d turned 18, his army training proved difficult, as he’d assumed it would. When assessed by a doctor before beginning his training, he only just met requirements for stamina and ability thanks to his condition, and the training period proved gruelling; although he should have been sent to the front within months of beginning training, it was nearly two years before they judged his physical condition was not good enough for combat, but he was a good soldier and a better shot, so he fit for work as a guard. It was not the outcome he’d hoped for, and needless to say he was frustrated to be designated such a lowly position- none of the honour and glory of battle, just stuck in a camp guarding rowdy foreigners.
He hasn’t been at the stalag long, and is still finding his feet, among both prisoners and guards. He’s used to taking orders, not being in charge of others, and while he thinks he’s pretty good at keeping things in order, he’s willing to admit he’s not got the skills for this yet.
RP Sample:
It was a little after dawn and the camp was still asleep. The usual clamour and chatter from the barracks had given way to restful silence, if only for the night. It would be over in a few minutes, Ludwig knew, but he could pretend otherwise; that this early morning tranquillity, this seemingly total solitude so far up in the watch tower would last forever. The sky was pale grey, no discernable clouds above the camp, just an impermeable grey mist that seemed to stretch for miles each way you looked, over fields and forests to the very horizon. A blackbird perched on a curl of barbed wire below him squawked hoarsely, its call ringing out through the camp to deaf ears.
He inhaled deeply, closing his eyes momentarily, trying to imagine himself elsewhere. As much as he’d wanted to live out in the country as a child, this was a far cry from anything he’d hoped for- no mountains or lakes, just flat meadows and forests full of dreary flora and dull fauna. He might as well have been on a battlefield. Well, he’d much rather be there anyway- that was where the heroes were, the brave ones fighting for their country, for the good of their families and their countrymen. This was no place for a soldier like Ludwig. No place for any strong, young patriot. All the same, these quiet moments were something he could probably get used to.
Somewhere in the camp a whistle was blown. It was time for the prisoners to wake up for their meagre breakfasts and continue their meaningless, petty lives within the confines of the high fences of the camp. Some might have work to look forward to, or maybe they’d be lucky enough to get Red Cross parcels today. He wished something would happen, anything that might wake this dead place up a little. His fingers brushed impatiently against the handle of his revolver. He hadn’t fired it once yet, still fully loaded, barrel still cool. His hands itched to pull the trigger, to shoot something. He’d had good aim in army training, better than most, and quick reflexes, it seemed a waste of a perfectly good soldier and a perfectly good gun not to shoot anything. This was a war, after all, he was meant to kill. His hand gripped tight around the handle, fingers staying well away from the trigger.
There was still another hour before another guard took over his watch. He hoped it would pass quickly so that he could eat his breakfast and catch up on the hours of sleep he’d missed up here in the tower. Whoever was coming to replace him would be late, he was sure, and he doubted he’d get much rest before being woken up by some disturbance or another. Still, the hardships he encountered at the stalag were nothing in comparison to his friends fighting the real war, so he couldn’t complain, he supposed. He watched a pair of blackbirds hopping around in a puddle take flight as a heavy set older guard marched towards the prisoners’ barracks, with the determined step of a man without purpose. He prayed he would get out of here before he became that same guard.
Out of character
Name: Katy
Timezone/Country: GMT England
Age: 19
A little about yourself: I’m the spawn of a history teacher with an obsession for fandom and too much free time at university.
Anything else: First- yellow. Second- I know Ludwig’s illness is OOC, but in researching guards at POW camps in the Second World War, it was clear most of the young, fit, able soldiers went off to fight, and that you either had to be old, sick or in ill favour with the government to wind up as a guard. I’ll try to keep him as in character as possible!
