Vaughn was born on May 14, 1990. His mother and father were very happy to have a son, as before, they recently lost their daughter to Cancer. Her name was Natasha. She was named after the mother. They were not a wealthy family and neither were they poor. They got by with what they had as the father had retired from the Soviet Army during WW2. He lost his left leg in the war and gets his funds for his service monthly. Although it never was enough. When Vaughn was old enough, and against his parents' will, he joined the Russian Armed Forces as light infantry. He was fresh out of training as a Private First Class when he was posted to a base located near his home. During his time in the Armed Forces, he was deployed to Ukraine. During time in the Ukraine, he saw things no man, woman, or child should see. Cities crumbled, bodies piled, families destroyed - it was the horror that will stay with him during his time there.
When the sickness was spreading in Chernarus, it was mere rumors and guesses as to what was going on. The rumors were always worse than the guessing. Vaughn eventually was posted back to his home at a military checkpoint on the borders of Russia and Chernarus. The amount of people who were trying to leave the country were close to the thousands. There were so many who were denied entry for not having right documentation. There were very few who actually did get in. Then, a random shot goes out and screams could be heard from the Chernarus side of the border. A man had shot a woman who had succumbed to the sickness and attacked him. She was not the only one. The gunshot brought more than what Vaughn and his unit had bargained for. The infected started to attack the large group of civilians on the border and they were getting closer to the border. Before anyone knew, the sounds of automatic gunfire filled the air. As Vaughn and his Unit fired into the crowd to stop the infected, he did not know if he was shooting the civilians or the infected anymore. Gunshots emerged from the other side of the border. Being fired at infected, but mainly at the RAF. Vaughn caught two rounds to the chest. Luckily, his vest stopped both of them and rendered him unconscious.
When Vaughn awoke, he was in a sleeping bag in someones home. The only things he had left were his boots, t-shirt, pants, and his dog-tags. There was a bed behind him and a table with a lamp, sitting next to a closed door. He got up and put on his boots and slowly opened the door. On the other side was a mans corpse, sitting in a chair. He had a gun in his hand and there was a hole in the top part of his head. The gun was empty and Vaughn grabbed whatever equipment he could and went outside. It was the middle of the night it seemed. He was near a large body of water and very distant sounds of gunfire could be heard. He knew where he was. And that was on the other side of the border. He pieced together that the man in the room had shot himself. And that he was also the man who had taken Vaughn to his own home. But why? Where is his gear and his Unit? Why couldn't his Unit be the ones to save him during that day. The memory was still hazy. Vaughn went out carefully to find answers, and a way back home.
So far, this place - it is his home.