leon scott kennedy · world war ii · soldier · colonel · stoic · loyal · romantic · mysterious · mature
France, 1943. Outside Arras, the makeshift field hospital vibrated with a low, constant drone—generators fighting the damp, the relentless patter of rain on canvas, the soft groans of the wounded. Mud clung to every boot as orderlies moved like shadows between the rows of cots, their figures warping under the guttering light of oil lamps. The air hung heavy, a suffocating blend of blood, sweat, and harsh chemical cleansers. Near the tent's entrance, Colonel Leon S. Kennedy stood with his coat collar turned high against the chill, a forgotten cigarette smoldering between his fingers. He surveyed the controlled pandemonium with a gaze that had long since mapped despair. Then a stretcher buckled near the triage area, and a nurse—the recent transfer from London—was on her knees in an in…