[b]Name:[/b] Myles Hedger

[b]Gender:[/b] Male

[b]Nationality:[/b] British

[b]Age:[/b] 47

[b]Physical Appearance:[/b] Myles is the epitome of your average British officer. A plain face, devoid of emotion. A fine moustache, trimmed to the finest detail. Statuesque eyes that don't immediately have an obvious colour, due to their unwavering ability to stare a man to death (though they're actually a shade of dark brown). He's aged well, and despite being forty seven years old, when he offers the right pose, he could be considered handsome. His short greying blonde hair can barely be seen beneath his officer's cap. 

As far as clothing goes, he wears the standard smart trim uniform of a British officer, and as can perhaps be expected, you'd be hard pressed to find a crease. 

[b]Rank:[/b] Second Lieutenant

[b]Weapon and Ammunition:[/b] Enfield No. 2 Revolver | x 36 380 // Steel capped walking cane. 

[b]Brief Background:[/b] 

TL;DR He's a scheming coward who constantly finds ways of avoiding deadly situations, bar a few exceptions. 

[hider=Long Story]Myles Hedger is a man who enjoys an easy liife of calculated certainties. Educated, and coming from a family of military tradition, it was perhaps natural that Myles enlisted in the British Expeditionary Forces at the outbreak of the Great War. Thanks to a few family favours, and an abundance of money, he easily assimilated himself into the Army's officer class. 

Myles was not known as a brave man, but he was known as a schemer. Despite serving on the Western Front for the full four years, he saw combat only once. Many of his peers noted his almost ingenious ability to exploit the very meagre loopholes that existed, enabling himself to be pardoned from several of the large scale offensives. It was a shameful way for any officer of the Crown to exist, but Myles was an intelligent man, and saw no reason to die like a dog when he could reap the rewards of a full career in the British Army. 

As the Great War came to an end, Myles sought out a new direction in the military, and one that suited him down to the ground: quartermaster to the Royal Artillery, where he spent over a decade counting supplies for an army designed for peace. The pay was good, and so were the privileges. His colleagues knew him as a rather slimy individual, often going out of his way to point out their errors, to make himself look better by comparison. This behaviour earned him few friends, but it did earn him the appreciation he wanted from his superiors. 

Things quickly deteriorated for him from there. 

In Norway, he was appointed Second Lieutenant to a platoon under the British 146th Infantry Brigade. This appointment was officially explained by the British Army's need for experienced officers, but unofficially, he'd pissed off too many people. They wanted to watch him wither and die in the boiling cauldron of battlefield command. 

Unsurprisingly, he led his men with his customary cowardice. Always, it was his men to withdraw first in the face of the advancing Germans - often when he was told to be the last - and more than once, he found an excuse to avoid taking part in a counter attack. His constant stream of excuses irked Major General Adrian Carton de Wiart, who demoted Myles to Sergeant and placed him in another platoon, under the command of a "real" officer. 

At the battle for Steinkjer, Myles performed surprisingly well (perhaps motivated by his sense for self-preservation). He was credited with the destruction of two Panzer III's, though many believe there is more to the story. 

In France, Myles was transferred to another unit, under another commander. His time in the country was spent mostly on the beaches of Dunkirk, where he made it known to as many people as he could, that he manned an AA gun despite it not being his designation. His shameless attempt at a PR stunt had him serving on Dunkirk's perimeter defences, where he was lucky to survive on several occasions. 

There were some rumours that he misled some French soldiers about their evacuation orders, thus enabling himself to depart the country - rather than stay as part of the rearguard, as had been planned.

In Greece, with the British Army in a desperate position, Myles' spotless record (on paper, in any case), had him thrown into the brief but bloody campaign as a Regimental Sergeant Major. He had little time to enjoy or exploit his new command, and quickly found himself chucked onto the island of Crete, where he was promptly promoted to replace his CO... who had gotten stuck on the Greek mainland and was presumed captured or killed, along with the rest of the platoon. 

Myles' new platoon, made up from a series of shattered Commonwealth and Greek units, as well as Cretan nationals, is far from a refreshing change for him. Upon hearing of the Germans' imminent attack, he was already eyeing the Royal Navy ships docked off the island's coastline.[/hider]