Brigadier General Otto Krauss was a general in the German Air Force. At first, he had entertained plans of going to medical school and becoming a doctor. After he left the Gymnasium and served his mandatory year in the service, he changed his plans. He found that he had developed a taste for air force life. He worked his way up the ranks, went to officer’s school, worked very hard, and soon realized his dream of becoming a general.
He still had lazy daydreams about being under Bismarck, or fighting with The Red Baron or in the Luftwaffe. He dreamt sometimes of the glory days of Germany, when men were men and battles were battles. He ached to have been able to have fought in those days. He doubted there would be another war, and if there was it would be fast and easy. Not a world war, and probably not a war concerning Germany.
He was a meek man. He was the sort of person who wouldn't stand out, not if you painted him pink and stuck him in the middle of a business meeting. Krauss had a small but thick mustache, but other than that he tried very carefully to stay clean shaven. There was nothing about him particularly striking. He had military bearing, but it wasn't overly stiff, nor overly relaxed. His eyes were like that of a fawns, perhaps a bit naive, perhaps more knowing than you'd suspect. Krauss had a bit of a paunch, but it was hardly large enough to draw attention to itself.
He had never married. He was, in a way, married to his rank. He’d been a one-star general for much longer than he had hoped. He worked his damnedest to be promoted, but not much ever really came of it. He had worked for several months straight, trying to impress his superiors. Now he had a lot of leave coming.
He had decided to go to America. He’d always wanted to see America. He had packed his things and, using his general’s salary which he had very little use for, flew to Washington D.C.