Chapter 11 - A Promise My Father Never Made
I took my dress uniform out of its bag that night and laid it on the bed. The Silver Star ribbon shone against dark fabric. I couldn't bend my injured knee enough to stand at attention for ten minutes. Still, part of me wanted to tape it tight and walk anyway.
Doc had been blunt. "You'll get treatment. You won't march tomorrow. That's not a suggestion."
"Miller will say I quit."
"Miller isn't your doctor."
Jax called from temporary duty. "You sound l-like you did in Kunar, when you tried to carry the general on a leg that was already broken."
"It wasn't broken."
"You know what I mean. You nearly got yourself killed after you got him safe."
I opened my father's old letter, the one I kept folded in the uniform pocket. Danny had written it before my second deployment: Courage doesn't come from never needing help. It comes from remembering who else deserves to get home.
For years I'd repeated a harsher version in my head. No one can call me a quitter. I had turned Dad's love into an order he never gave.
I called Doc. "You're right. I'll take the profile."
"Say that again. I want it recorded for history."
I laughed, then cried before I could stop myself.
May you like
A hard knock came at my door. I opened it to find Staff Sergeant Rusk standing in the hallway, soaked by rain and holding a folded piece of paper. His face looked older than it had in the motor pool.
"Sergeant Vance," he said, "I need to tell you why I did it."
