“I never said I was Special Warfare,” I said.

“Matty wrote what he figured out from watching me pack my gear for joint deployments.”

“I know your record, Sarah,” my commander told me.

He opened his top desk drawer and took out a fresh sheet of Navy letterhead.

“This is an official summary of your Master Chief service record, including your 2017 Bronze Star citation.”

He signed the bottom line in a heavy stroke of blue ink and pressed the command seal into the corner.

“Give him this when you get there tomorrow,” he said, sliding the page across the desk.