In the beginning, Nathan would try to respond to each of these intrusions with something original, something profound. But as this ritual was repeated time and time again, he restricted his response to a nod and a mumbled, “Yes, indeed he is.”

Like many of soldiers who had known Scott Dixon, this sergeant first class made two statements that irked Nathan. The first was to the effect that he had heard the son of Scott Dixon was being assigned to the division. This bothered Nathan. Nathan, like many sons, was anxious to move out into the world on his own, free of his father’s influence. To discover that this was all but impossible in such a small, tightly knit organization such as the Army was discouraging. Nathan had hoped to enter the Army and his first troop assignment without his father’s rank and reputation hanging over him like the sword of Damocles. That this would not be possible was quite disheartening.

The second, and equally annoying statement that many a potential well wisher presented to Nathan was the sincere hope that Nathan would prove to be “half as good” as his father had been. Whether the officer or enlisted man addressing Nathan was making this assessment based on previous experiences with the newly commissioned sons of general officers or they were merely heaping more praise on Scott Dixon didn’t much matter to Nathan. By the time the sergeant had made his appearance, Nathan was starting to regret not taking his brother’s suggestion that he use Jan’s last name instead of Dixon.

“What unit are you going to?” the sergeant asked politely.

“Company A, 3rd Battalion of the 517th Airborne,” Nathan snapped.

For a moment, the sergeant thought about Nathan’s response. Then, his eyes narrowed as his expression grew somber. “Captain Andrew King is the CO of that outfit, isn’t he?”

Tiring of this, Nathan took an exaggerated glance down at his unviolated hamburger before he replied. “Yes, I think so.”

The sergeant shook his head. “In that case, sir, best of luck.” Turning, he started to leave, but then paused. “Sir, watch your six,” he added quietly over his shoulder.

Nathan, who was in the process of resuming his seat, didn’t have a chance to ask the sergeant what he had meant by his remark before the man disappeared in the noontime crowd milling about at the serving counter. Whether this was a good omen or not didn’t much bother Nathan at the moment. His fate, he figured, was pretty much cast in stone. All that remained for him to do was to get on with it.