At twenty-two, she enlisted.
She went through basic at Fort Jackson, then infantry OSUT at Benning — the same ranges where her grandfather had once trained others. The transition was brutal. The ruck marches tore open her shoulders, and the field exercises left her covered in blisters and mud.
But she passed.

She didn’t ask for respect. She earned it, one qualification, one field exercise at a time.
Most of her squadmates treated her like one of their own.
But others — mostly the old guard — never accepted it.
They called her “quota,” “experiment,” or worse.

And one of them, a staff sergeant named Durl, was on the range today.