I’m not quite sure what all the fuss is about in concerns of who I am. But I suppose I might as well put the rumors to rest and reveal the truth, despite how difficult it may be for a woman such as I to talk so proudly of themselves. I’ve held a gun in my hand, and I’ve been the person on the other end. I have felt what it’s like to have a bullet burn right through flesh and leave an ever-present, unreceding hole in my body that will never be filled. I’m only twenty-four, and I normally reside in the outskirts of London in the house my mother left to me, but the war has brought me to the massive fields of Russia, bitterly cold and bitterly wet. Some tend to think of me as the dirt beneath their boots, though I tend to enjoy proving them wrong when they’re the ones cowering in the bunkers and I’m the one leading an infiltration of enemy camps. I’ve lived my life on the outside lines, begging for a chance to be included. I don’t thrive on recognition and acknowledgement for the things that I have done or the things I know I am more than capable of. I know my worth, and I hardly need anyone to agree. I do my job. I fight, and I fight as well as any man in my division. The ridicule and the harassment that comes with such a job given my sex is nothing compared to the doors that had been closed in my face before. I am thankful for my opportunity to be where I am. I am thankful for the very slim few of whom chose to put the smallest slivers of faith in me. I will repay them with every bit of undivided attention I can provide, and I will fulfill all orders that I’m given. I will retrieve coffee and lunch orders should I need to, and I will bite my tongue. I will be polite in enduring harsh criticisms if I should make the smallest of mistakes. I will speak up when I feel it necessary, but I will not go above and beyond to make sure that I am fully supported and believed in by all. The few that do believe in me are the few that I trust. In the few that I trust, I am content. I will fight until the cold seeps right down into my bones and freezes my blood. And I will do it because I am resilient, and I am no different than any man that sits and glares at me for just the sake of having permission to hold a gun in my hands and fight beside them. I will do it even if I’m forced to stay late into the night back in New York at the office and file paperwork I’ve done nearly a million times over and over again without any fieldwork. I will do it if no one gives any faith. I will do what’s right, and I will stand by myself if I must. You may very well despise me, as many do, but I am a woman that has earned some ounce of a respect, and I expect to be treated as such. I can be sharp at times, but other times witty, and I will do it all in heels and painted red lips while others sit back and watch.