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Then, when she’d cleaned up, this afternoon was her first shift as an assistant public information officer at nearby Fort Lewis.
    She’d seen the army base a few times from the freeway, but today would be her first time through the gates. She hadn’t gotten the job the usual way — by walking in and applying. Instead, she mentioned to her father that she’d like to work there. The base was only a short drive from PLU, and working there would give her a better understanding of the military and whether she’d like that sort of career one day.
    Her dad wasted no time making calls on her behalf to one of his friends — a high-up official at the base. As it turned out, the public affairs office needed an assistant, and the details were worked out in a single day. Emily was a journalism major, about to start her sophomore year. Working as a public information officer so early in her college career would look fantastic on her résumé.
    She could hardly wait to start.
    With a final glance at the photos of her parents and grandparents, she dressed in her practice clothes, clipped her iPod to her shorts, and stuck in her earbuds. The soccer field wasn’t far from the residence hall, so it made for a good jog. By the time practice started, Emily was already warmed up.
    Pam had gone to breakfast with another teammate, and she was already at the field when Emily arrived. The two waved to each other, but over the next three hours, Emily didn’t think about anything but what was being asked of her by the coach. He was a demanding man, a person whose sarcasm was his only comic relief. Otherwise, he ran practice like a drill sergeant.
    Emily didn’t mind. She needed someone to push her, to help her find the limits of her abilities.
    When practice was over, she jogged back to the room, showered, ate a grilled chicken salad at the cafeteria, then set out for the school parking lot. She arrived at Fort Lewis twenty minutes before her scheduled shift.
    The base was bigger than it looked from the road, taking up acres of land on both sides of the I-5 freeway. Emily liked the feel of it, the American flags that flew proudly from a number of the buildings, and the armored tank on display near the main entrance. Never mind that the area was known for its rainy gray skies; in the few days she’d been there, the weather had been nothing but sunshine. Now as she studied the complex and the blue sky that framed it, the picture was almost surreal.
    She’d lived most of her life not knowing that her father was involved in the military, and still she’d always felt a sense of pride when she’d seen an officer or a convoy of army vehicles. After September 11, though she’d only been fourteen, she made a beaded flag pin and wore it every day for a year. When the announcements came in that the U.S. had launched a retaliatory attack on Afghanistan, and then on Iraq, she was one of the few kids she knew who rushed home from school to watch the footage.
    Papa used to tease her that her blood wasn’t red. It was red, white, and blue. Patriotic Polly, he’d called her. “That’s my girl, giving us old folks hope for the next generation.”
    Her pride in America, in its military strength, was almost instinctive. War was a tough subject, and she had as many friends in support of it as against it. Emily didn’t like war, but on her own she could see some benefits. For instance, the way the country seemed so much safer since the military took action against countries harboring terrorists.
    But the war aside, there was something admirable about people who devoted their lives to serving their country. Emily might not work for the military after she earned her degree, but then again, she might make it a career — the way her dad had done. She would never know unless she tried.
    She straightened her shoulders and headed toward the front doors of the main building on the base.
    She’d had a conversation with a nice woman the day before, and now she