Finished counting the cases of caliber .50 four-in-one linked armor piercing machine gun ammunition, Nancy Kozak decided it was a good time to take a break. Those on her detail addicted to the habit were dying for a cigarette break. Releasing them with a curt “Take ten,” she waited until they had scampered outside before allowing herself to relax. Spotting two short stacks of crated 5.56mm ball ammunition left haphazardly in the center of the floor, Nancy wandered over to them. Placing her clipboard on the taller of the two, she used the second stack, consisting of two crates, as a seat. Leaning forward, she placed her hands on her knees, and closed her eyes. Taking in a deep breath, she drew in a lungful of stale bunker air and held it for a moment. The simple knowledge that she was surrounded by tons of crated small arms ammunition, together with the feel of her lightly starched BDUs and the odors of the bunker brought back memories. In a world where duty, honor, and country were little more than words, she found herself longing for the days when she had lived and worked with men and women who had dedicated their lives to those principles.

It had taken her a long time to come to the realization that she had made a mistake in leaving the service. What had been sound, reasonable arguments for resigning her commission then now seemed to her well-ordered mind little more than excuses to escape a terrible dilemma she had found herself in. Opening her eyes for a second, she looked down at her left hand.

Of all her mistakes, it was the absence of a ring on her fourth finger that she found herself dwelling on more and more. Her failure to aggressively pursue a soul mate had never bothered her much before. At age twenty-two, when she had accepted her commission as a second lieutenant in the United States Army, marriage was the least of her concerns or interests. Becoming a first rate officer and launching a career in the armed forces were all that she cared about then. Marriage, if anything, would have been a detriment to her dreams and ambitions.

That’s not to say that Nancy Kozak lived a celibate life. During her years on active duty she had met more than a few fellow officers who were, to her, both appealing and available. Some found that they shared this attraction, leading to everything from casual affairs that provided little more than physical enjoyment to a few that almost went the distance. But in the end things never seemed to work out. Twice the transfer of one or the other to a new posting sounded the death knell of what could have been a wonderful, long term relationship. Once, Nancy’s promotion below the zone well ahead of her year group soured an otherwise eager beau.