October 3, 2008
She was in the military, in basic training and counting the days until graduation. As usual at the end of a meal, she left formation and strode back into the cafeteria to face her drill sergeant. “Airman Scott reports as ordered” she dutifully reported. Sergeant Foster smiles and orders, “Sing ‘Johnny Angel’ to Sergeant Adams.” Straining to hold her at-ease position and maintain military decorum while her brain tried to discern if this was a legitimate order she replied, “Pardon me, ma’am.” The order was repeated. With a deep breath she began singing and was grateful she knew the words.