In my novel, I'm writing toward a real event that happened in Iraq. It has to do with SA, to read the rest carefully. I've always been very protective of the women in my life. I was raised to believe that my strength is for protection, not danger and I've always viewed myself as chivalrous - I don't always get it right, but I try to be a gentleman. In the Air Force, most women were treated...poorly. There was the face the guys put on around the women, and the face they showed when the ladies weren't around. I trusted most of the guys, but every once in a while, I'd hear a story that rattled me and pissed me off. Anyway...I'd been up to a forward operating base in a remote area. There'd been a scandal involving a young female Airman, three male Airmen, and some photos. It really rattled me because I knew the female Airman and she was a really good kid - funny, smart, athletic, diligent, and really cute. After the incident, she was sent home and spent some time in a mental health facility. Well, one night, a few months after this happened, I was getting packed up and ready to head home. I'll never forget this. I was walking down a dark part of the base, rounded a corner, and bumped in a stunningly beautiful young Airman. I could tell she'd only been in country for a little while because she had an optimistic look in her eyes, and her uniform was still clean and fresh. She asked me for directions and explained that she was heading to that same forward operating base. I've never felt so helpless. I wanted to put my arm around her and keep her safe and do whatever I could to send her back home. But I couldn't. She had orders. I had orders. We both had some place to be, and I had to just give her directions. That moment has haunted me ever since. I never knew her name or where she was from. All I knew is that the guys who had been involved with the other Airmen were still up there and hadn't faced any real consequences. And besides those guys, there'd been mortar attacks, gunfights, crashes. It was a dangerous spot.