Samantha would like to forget this story... But she can't... It marks and haunts her now. Its deep scar within her now.
She was eighteen when the war struck the country. Her little town was sweeped by the martial law and many of the men were forced into the military, including her fiance. She couldn't let him go that easily and she made something that for the other women was considered abhorrent: she joined the ranks, not as a medic but, as a soldier. She wouldn't stand there and long for his fiance to be back, she would go right into combat and fight with him.
When she presented herself before the captain in charge of the conscription, everybody laughted at her. A woman? Really? She couldn't make it... or so they thought.
She came armed. Her father's shotgun. She showed them, first a few bottles of beer, later the practice targets... And when that didn't suffice, she wrestled the burliest man she could find. She left her fiance, Charles, looking as a complete idiot, for both wrestling with her and losing to her. That day, little Sammy joined the Army.
The days went by, she waited at the barracks... The few times she was called was to dispatch other sharpshooters or to use her as recognissance, her facade as a innocent woman being most effective. Of course, she wasn't very happy with that... Although she saw and loved her fiance, she hoped she could go beyond being a mere housewife... Taste the glory, hear the appraise...
Wherever she went, all the other soldiers looked at her with lust independently if she was with Charles or not. All the women saw her as a freak, trying to live a life that only a man can endure... And everybody saw her as lawbreaker, for reasons that she yet has to understand....
She was very much misunderstood and judged.... She wasn't the weak girl.... or so she thought.
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