Not Quite a Soldat

1

"Yes, Joan?" Sam Wilson asked one of the vets at his VA. The others all turned their faces to her.

"Um, I know this girl. She's not a veteran but she comes from a military family. Really invested in telling our story and making sure people understand the truth about war. Wicked smart too, I think she's getting a journalism degree or already has it... can't remember if she graduated already or not but I was wondering if I could invite her? Only if you guys are okay with it, she already has a couple books out that she did with her grandfather before he passed. It wouldn't be invasive, she's cool."

The other veterans looked around the circle at each other. Joan was one of the first to start showing up to Sam's particular VA group. If she trusted this girl, maybe they could too. Everyone agreed with a promise from Joan that if it was too much or the girl made them uncomfortable Joan would ask her to leave.

Joan laughed as Chanel smoothed out her skirt. She sitting in the car with her since she offered to drive Chanel to the VA meeting. Joan had served with Chanel's older sister and cousin. She had also worked with the girl's older brother a few times. Joan was more family than just her siblings' friend.

"You didn't have to get dressed up you know. We're a bunch of vets just trying to forget our problems and play some chess."

"First impressions, Joan. I just want to make a good impression on everyone."

"Well, they're all waiting and ready for you, Caliber."

Chanel snorted at the nickname her family had given her when she was maybe ten, twelve. It never went away even after meeting Joan. Chanel grabbed her tote bag and followed Joan into the building. The group was already sitting in their circle when Chanel and Joan walked in— it was mindless talking, they weren't late. Chanel sat next to Joan, wringing her hands from nervousness.

"Our newest member!" Sam greeted jovially, trying to ease the young woman's nerves. "Your name?"

Um, hi, I'm Chanel Jefferson."

The other veterans smiled, everyone could see she wasn't a very extroverted person. At least not in big groups, not right away.

"Joan says you write our stories?"

Chanel fished in her tote bag for the books and handed them to Joan who started to pass them around. She took out the dog tags of various family members from under her shirt— her sister always thought it was cute how whenever Chanel was around other military, she tended to tuck the tags in like they did. Chanel also pulled out a small strip of leather from her bag.

"My great great great great grandfather fought in the Civil War." Chanel held up the leather strip, a makeshift dog tag.

"That's a lot of great," one of the veterans joked, causing everyone to chuckle.

"Yeah. At least one person every generation has been in the military since then. It started when they couldn't tell us anything about the freedmen and slaves who fought, the books, I mean. So my grandpa and I started digging."

"You were seven when this came out?" A guy held up the first book.

"Told you she was wicked smart." Joan smirked.

"Well, Papa did most of the work for a long time. I just helped sweet talk the vets, no one can resist answering questions when a baby's asking them."

And that's how it started. The vets liked Chanel. They liked that she was there to record their stories and not just the horror but the funny bits, the mundane bits. And that she didn't just interview them and their lives but also shared her life with them. She started coming in early to help Sam set up and leaving later to help him clean. Sam liked having her company, Chanel reminded him so much of his nieces and nephews. He wouldn't admit it but Sam basically adopted her.