When I was little girl, I used to love World War II movies. I imagined myself being in them. I dreamed of growing up, keeping my hair long, putting it in braids and then tucking them up under my helmet. I planned to disguise my gender so that I could join in. I sensed that the men in these movies were part of something heroic, valiant and worthy. I longed to be a part of it, too. In the depths of my soul, I longed to be a part of something large and good; something that required all of me; something dangerous and worth dying for.