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think you could carry me. Call me sentimental, but it’s a man’s job to make sure women are safe and out of harm’s way,” Hayes said.
    “Such a gentleman,” Carrigan said, rolling her eyes.
    “That’s who my Mama taught me to be.”
    “This is the first year they are letting women into combat roles. The success rate of women in Basic Training is seventeen percent. There are seven of us in this graduating class. The odds are against me, but I will pass Basic and I will be among the first female soldiers to fight on the frontlines for our country,” she said, jamming her index finger into the table as she spoke.
    Carrigan was a tough nut. She faced a lot of ridicule from the guys in the platoon, but I had faith in her. With her beauty and her wits and her cunning sarcasm, she could make it all the way. It will take a lot more than a few naysayers to bring her spirits down.
    “Take it from a black man. My people share your plight. It took us almost eighty years to be considered full citizens in our own country. Slavery wasn’t abolished until eighteen ninety-nine. Sixty years later, we had the Civil Rights Movement. It took nearly ten years of protests, peaceful and violent, mind you, to obtain our most basic human rights. Even then, the Confederacy didn’t fully integrate the military until seventy-eight. Now look at us. We’re all over the place. You got me, Pike, Worley, Rainey over in Second Platoon and Campbell in Third Platoon. We’ve come a long way and my hat is off to you for your passion for change, but I still don’t believe you should be allowed in combat.” Hayes cleared his throat and took a sip of orange juice with his pinky finger high in the air. His theatrics always amused me.
    “You mark my words. I’ll beat all these bitches and I’ll be the last woman standing.”
    “Are you two married? Because you sure argue like it,” Beauregard said.
    Once again, my attention turned to Alex Redman. He was eating his toast, unconsciously. His mind lost in thought.
    His concentration was snapped from across the room as Esra Teague made a boisterous presentation at his table in the back of the cafeteria. What it was about I don’t know, but everyone at his table erupted in laughter.
    Alex looked on in disgust, slowly chewing a mouthful of food. He looked down at his plate at his empty table and frowned. I felt sorry for him.
    He looked up and locked eyes with me. I felt awkward for staring and quickly dropped my gaze, pulling my attention back to the conversation at the table.
    Never failing, Drill Sergeant Elroy stomped into the mess hall at precisely the moment the clock struck 1230.
    “Chow time is over! First Platoon, fall out!”
    As one unit, the platoon stood, snapped to attention with a precise collection of heel clicks and exited.

Chapter 4
February 10
    It was the second full day of Firearm Pre-Qualification. The day before was spent going over firearm basics. We learned safe handling and operation, misfire and malfunction procedures, proper upkeep and range safety. In addition to learning about our own weaponry, we were taught everything there is to know about Yankee firearms. The United States used an entirely unique set of firearms, separate from our own. It was a lot to take in.
    This was our first day at the range getting actual hands-on weapon experience. The morning sky was beautiful and blue and crisp. The wind blew sparingly from the south carrying with it a solid layer of wispy clouds. Our tired bodies were warmed by the sun’s rays.
    Drill Sergeant Elroy had First Platoon huddled around him as he explained the morning’s exercises. I was kneeling near the far edge. I pulled my soft cover cap down over my eyes to block the sun that hovered directly above and behind Elroy.
    “Welcome to day two of Firearm Pre-Qualification Week. Today, our main focus will be the combat assault rifle, the Heckler and Koch G36.” Elroy beckoned for the range officer standing off to the side. The