My Father Smirked and Told the Wedding Guests

back down, but not all the way. Ready.

I opened the folder.

On top was a printed copy of my official biography pulled from a public command packet.

Dad had taken a blue pen to it.

He circled “operational planning” and wrote: desk work.

He circled “expeditionary sustainment” and wrote: supply closet.

He circled “joint billet” and wrote: politics.

There was continue reading …