She was seeing the four rows of ribbons pinned above my left pocket, earned across fifteen years of deployments she had called embarrassing.

“When you face an overwhelming task in the field, there are no family trusts to bail you out,” I went on, keeping my tone measured and quiet.

“You have only your training, your integrity, and the soldiers standing beside you.”

A murmur of agreement rippled through the rows of active-duty officers seated behind the faculty bench.

Arthur slowly brought his hands together and clapped three deliberate, quiet times.

My mother shot him a sharp glare out of the corner of her eye, but my father didn’t stop.