Here I Throw Down My Heart

Military Woman: Evolution

34 Military Woman: Evolution she says truth was the uniform caught my eye first time I saw them walking so proud and tall could have been that uniform stood up by itself—starched so clean it was and the hat she says the hat set jaunty over bangs pressed tight like a roll of half dollars —everything jazzed till you get down to the shoes a dead give away cause no woman I knew willing to trade in her high heels for brogans look like a man just stepped out of—seem like that uniform left them more man than woman anyhow and the wives whispered “hard woman” whispered “hold her own against any man” and wondered if their man was ready to take them on—still she says first time I saw them parading like they had suit hangers up under their shirts I nearly bust out laughing looking at how stiff they moved till I figured that uniform let them walk on any side of the street they’d choose—I was walking on a stretch of wasn’t nothing wrong but wasn’t nothing right either so I signed up for a bunk and a duffel bag and sanitary napkins issued once a month—I signed up cause truth was I didn’t know which way I was going in that world where folks didn’t believe a woman could do a man’s job thought one woman could put a platoon at risk the men rushing in to save her sorry ass and I re-upped to prove them wrong—I signed up thinking I’d walk tall in parades thinking I could show them what I was made of how I could work a gun steady as a man and hold my own—least that’s what I dreamed for more than twenty years serving my time in quartermaster in armpit towns never even seen women like me before and the Brass not letting us off post except in pairs on account of civilians who copped an attitude when we passed—she says none of it turned me around cause I was thinking I was a woman who’d seen more camps than any boy back home and knew rank by the stripes and units by insignias—I even dreamed myself in uniform but like my mama used to say “dreaming ain’t doing and shoulda never crossed nobody’s bridge”—still I stayed moving up in rank watching the world slide by in slow motion—grunts 35 got it different these days going from boot camp to combat in a short stretch—yet I’m the one greeting them when they return body bag or walking—I’m senior non-com old school in white glove uniform time in grade slashed on my sleeve—I’m the one telling them it’s not the uniform what makes me proud but what’s in it—and I’m the one to salute them all ...