•𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐮𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐖𝐚𝐫•

May 1st, 1943 "Prologue."

My name is Gregory Defaulé. I am 41 Years of age. I was born in France in 1902 on a rural farm. I was forced to run away after those damned Jerrys found our farm and took us. Me and my brother ran away as my mother and father were killed. I am unemployed and live near Tidmouth in a small cottage.

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May 1st, 1943. Recently I found this old notebook laying around a muddy ditch half crushed and battered. Luckily the paper was still preserved and usable. I often have to travel to the Arlesdale area to visit my brother.

..I am envious of him, I had to endure pain whilst he got rich and successful?! How unfair...  Anyways. The only reason why I travel to him is so I could pled him to get money from him so I can get some food and booze so I can keep on going. Heh

Man, I hate living near Tidmouth,  you see I live near a military base and those damned spitfire keep on disturbing me! Not to mention the sirens are not any better. They remind me of my past.

-Oh fuck me, how could I get sidetracked whilst writing?! I am currently using this book to keep log. As it turns out the little western is looking for a new guard as their old one mysteriously disappeared. How peculiar. . Anyways I must get off this book. NWR 11 "Oliver" is about to depart. I will continue to write once I get the chance too.
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12:16 PM:

That fucking bastard of a brother. He didn't even let me on his front porch as he immediately kicked me out! Now I have to go to this interview looking like a slob. Ugh. At least the appointment isn't too far away. May I could job there in just on time. I'll check back in once I'm done with that stuff.

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1:32 PM

Oliver Dropped me off at Haltraugh station. I don't visit the station much, but I do where the "Now Hiring!" Posters fluttered gently in the soft ocean winds. A little stand that was just adjacent to the posted read "Interviews inside the station" written in chalk board. I then faced the door that led into the station and opened it. To find no one inside but a single workman sitting properly at a clean wooden desk all whilst looking bored. His eyes lit up when he saw me and welcomed me in warmly. " Are you here for the LW Workman position? If so, then this is the right place to be!" Said the man cheerfully. I walked up to the desk and sat down on the wooden stool. I hadn't brought my resume with me so I guess I'll have to bullshjt my way into this job. . . After sitting down in the stool I eyed the man's tag closely before shortly answering. " Erm, I am here for the job Mr. Err... Quinton? " Quinton smiled warmly he soon settled into his seat. Then he would ask me all the information blah, blah, blah, I won't bore you with the detailes however both of us jumped when we soon heard the sounds of the Harbingers of fear; The local Air raid sirens. We bothed ducked under our desks. Hoping the syrens was only a test.