Corporal Jared Brandt came out of the guard shack and raised his hand in a sharp signal to stop.

He looked twenty-two at the most.

He hitched up his duty belt twice before walking over to my window.

“Good morning, please state your business on the installation,” Brandt said, reciting the regulation word for word.

I passed him my military card.

I was wearing a plain gray sweater and dark slacks, having left my uniform back at the motel on purpose.

Brandt ran the card through his handheld reader.