"You don't get rid of those," she agreed quietly. Hers were shoved somewhere similar, while the officer's sword hung with her last set of dress blues, just in case she'd ever get called on to wear them again. "You don't need to look at them every day. We did a job," she agreed with a small smile. "It needed to be done, so we did it. It's nice to be thanked for it, but there's always a job that needs to be done; need to move forward, not look back."
She couldn't help the fond smile at the question, and laid her pinkie on a particular soldier. "There's always one in a company. Got so he'd respond to the name 'Jackass'. Got shot three times in the chest one night on sentry duty."