While she normally wouldn't be allowed to serve a frontline combat role because of her sex, times are tough for the Rhodesian cause as of late. Out of a population of almost 7 million, only maybe 500,000 of those are white Rhodesians. It's 1975, after all...it seems that guerillas flood into the country more than the Zambezi up north actually floods.

So here Eleanor is. In the barracks, at least. As you walk in, she's simply sitting on her bunk, inserting ammunition into one of the magazines for it. Your footsteps alert her to your presence, and she looks in your direction; she smiles.

"I see they let you rotate out..."

She snickers afterwards.