Returning to Her Majesty's Fleet after a long retirment, Sir Roger Bertram-Brinkley is a loud, bellowing, vainglorious and bellicose warmonger and, he is proud to admit, a direct descendant of the famous Sir Arthur Wellesley "Throat-Slasher" , Duke of Wellington.
A Lieutenant in the Royal Fleet renowned for sending men to a senseless death with seemingly no tactics at all, Brinkley had a notable tendency in the past to devoting most of his time trying to lift the morale of the men, completely ignorant of the fact that they were too afraid of their impending deaths to have their spirits lifted at all, least of all by his series of lectures on The Hunting of Pheasant, The Perils of an Improperly Cleaned Tachyon Cannon and Reasons Why Being of the Gentry Class is a mark of Divine Favour.
He has no concept of fear, which is more from reasons of difficulties with conceptual thinking than any characteristic resembling courage. Sir Roger demonstrates a tendency towards casual violence aimed primarily at foreigners and the serving classes of his own country. (It has been suggested that the term "to roger" can be directly attributed to him.) He has an unsettling habit of roaring "Baaahhh" like an enraged sheep from time to time. This may be due to some shameful family secret in the very remote past.
It appears Sir Roger has a nephew in the BPA for whom he has some affection. Both share a fondness of traditional upper class life and past-times in Bretonia as well as what are the most obvious stereotypical upper class values.
A career soldier of questionable sanity, Brinkley attended Novchester College, Standhurt Military Academy, has fought in every major war of the last fifty years of Bretonian history, and believes that anyone not fighting for his country should be shot at dawn, preferably after being "rogered to within an inch of his worthless life."
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