“I’m talking about the world outside our post perimeter.”

He set the glasses back on his nose and laid his palm flat on my green personnel folder.

“Officers on this track spend eleven months a year in field conditions,” he said.

“Your family’s social circle in the Hudson Valley won’t understand why you’re sleeping in a muddy trench instead of going to country club luncheons in town.”

“My mother already considers my commission an embarrassment, General,” I said, my voice measured and calm.

General Vance paused, the silk cloth still between his fingers.