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Behind
her
back
they
said
she
painted
her
suit
with
the
blood
of
her
squad
.
When
you
stand
out
like
that
on
the
battlefield
,
you
tend
to
draw
more
than
your
share
of
enemy
fire
.
Others
said
she
’
d
stop
at
nothing
to
make
her
squad
look
good
,
that
she
even
took
cover
behind
a
fellow
soldier
once
.
If
she
had
a
bad
headache
,
she
’
d
go
apeshit
,
killing
friend
and
foe
alike
.
And
yet
not
a
single
enemy
round
had
ever
so
much
as
grazed
her
Jacket
.
She
could
walk
into
any
hell
and
come
back
unscathed
.
They
had
a
million
stories
.
Your
rank
and
file
soldier
ended
up
with
a
lot
of
time
on
his
hands
,
and
listening
to
that
sort
of
talk
,
passing
it
on
,
embellishing
it
-
that
was
just
the
sort
of
thing
he
needed
to
kill
time
and
to
keep
the
subject
off
dead
comrades
.
Rita
had
been
a
Jacket
jockey
eating
and
sleeping
on
the
same
base
as
me
,
but
I
’
d
never
seen
her
face
until
that
moment
.
We
might
have
resented
the
special
treatment
she
got
,
if
we
’
d
had
the
chance
to
think
about
it
.
I
couldn
’
t
take
my
eyes
off
the
line
of
her
hair
-
she
wore
it
short
-
as
it
bobbed
in
the
wind
.
There
was
a
graceful
balance
to
her
features
.
You
might
even
have
called
her
beautiful
.
She
had
a
thin
nose
,
a
sharp
chin
.
Her
neck
was
long
and
white
where
most
Jacket
jockeys
didn
’
t
even
have
necks
.
Her
chest
,
however
,
was
completely
flat
,
at
odds
with
the
images
of
Caucasian
women
you
saw
plastered
on
the
walls
of
every
barracks
cell
.
Not
that
it
bothered
me
.
Whoever
had
looked
at
her
and
thought
up
the
name
Full
Metal
Bitch
needed
to
have
his
head
checked
.
She
was
closer
to
a
puppy
than
a
bitch
.
I
suppose
even
in
a
litter
of
pit
bulls
there
’
s
room
for
one
sweet
one
in
the
bunch
.
If
,
in
my
dream
,
the
shell
of
that
red
Jacket
had
popped
open
and
she
’
d
climbed
out
,
I
would
have
shit
my
bunk
.
I
’
d
seen
her
face
and
Jacket
plenty
on
the
news
feeds
,
but
they
never
gave
you
a
good
idea
of
what
she
really
looked
like
in
person
.
I
had
always
pictured
Rita
Vrataski
as
tall
and
ruthless
,
with
a
knockout
body
and
an
air
of
total
self
-
confidence
.
Then
our
eyes
met
.
I
looked
away
immediately
,
but
it
was
already
too
late
.
She
started
walking
toward
me
.
She
moved
with
purpose
,
one
foot
planted
firmly
on
the
ground
before
the
other
moved
-
a
relentless
,
unstoppable
force
.
But
her
steps
were
small
,
the
net
result
being
a
harried
,
flustered
gait
.
I
’
m
not
sure
I
’
d
ever
seen
anyone
walk
quite
like
that
before
.
C
’
mon
,
don
’
t
do
this
to
me
.
I
can
’
t
even
move
.
Give
a
guy
a
break
and
get
lost
,
would
ya
?
Go
on
.
Get
!
Rita
stopped
.
