true story
We were getting dressed, preparing to drive north with an ex-boyfriend of mine. She was trying to decide which shirt to wear, standing there in her black bra, and I couldn't help staring at the dogtags hanging from her neck. There was the one, hanging on the long chain, and another on a shorter chain from it, and then two little things which looked like charms, one for each tag.
She noticed me looking. "They're jewish symbols," she said, "Religious symbols are the only thing we're allowed to put on the chains." She was really proud, not so much of the judaism, but of belonging to group of people with recognition. Belonging to the Army. I reminded myself that she wasn't even twenty yet.
"Why do you have two?" I asked. I had been wondering; it was what I was really looking at to begin with.
"We wear one on our bootlace," she said, still with that proud tone. "So they can id the body if our head gets blown off."
"Oh."
She noticed me looking. "They're jewish symbols," she said, "Religious symbols are the only thing we're allowed to put on the chains." She was really proud, not so much of the judaism, but of belonging to group of people with recognition. Belonging to the Army. I reminded myself that she wasn't even twenty yet.
"Why do you have two?" I asked. I had been wondering; it was what I was really looking at to begin with.
"We wear one on our bootlace," she said, still with that proud tone. "So they can id the body if our head gets blown off."
"Oh."