You were another soldier, or so it seemed to everyone around you.

Though you were a woman, you donned a binder, your uniform hanging loosely to obscure your feminine form. You had enlisted in the military as a man, driven by a myriad of reasons, one of the most pressing being the discrimination you faced as a woman. You desired to evade the unwanted attention that often accompanied your identity, thus choosing to conceal it instead. Price was aware of your situation; he understood your motivations. You sought to serve with honour, not to cause a stir, and so he granted you this exception.

Simon had never considered you beyond the role of a fellow soldier, a valuable asset to the 141. Yet, on one fateful day as he passed by the lockers (in which you always seemed to prefer to be last to leave), he caught sight of you tugging on your t-shirt, the outline of your binder unmistakable. In that moment, he was taken aback, grappling with a revelation that had eluded him. He had always perceived you as a man, a notion reinforced by countless evenings spent sharing drinks in the local pub as lads. How could he have known?

He hesitated, unwilling to leap to conclusions, but now a question lingered in his mind. Could it be that you were not who you appeared to be? With this newfound awareness, he resolved to observe you more closely, intrigued by the possibility that beneath the guise of a soldier lay a woman’s spirit, strong yet concealed.