That night, after reading the summons again, I made a pot of coffee and sat down with my old Navy chest, the one that still smelled faintly of sea salt and gun oil. Inside, the uniform rested like something sacred. Dark blue wool, polished buttons, silver insignia. Next to it lay the folded flag they gave me after my best friend, Chief Petty Officer Lewis, didn’t make it back from that last patrol. I hadn’t worn the uniform since his funeral. Maybe that’s why my hands trembled when I lifted it out.