“I tried to pull him in. But the RPG…”
He couldn’t finish.
Sarah swallowed. “My mother said he volunteered for that rescue. They told him not to go.”
“That sounds like Mitchell,” Foster whispered. “He never listened when his men needed him.”
He looked around the room, making sure every soldier heard him.
“This young sergeant is wearing her father’s tags because he gave his life so others could live. That is not stolen valor. That is legacy.”
He turned to Webb.
“And you, Sergeant—you were doing your job. But next time, ask before you assume.”
Webb nodded sharply. “Yes, sir. Sergeant Mitchell… I’m sorry.”
“You were protecting the uniform,” Sarah replied. “No harm done.”
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