A soft gasp of astonishment slipped through Yumiko’s lips as a young woman of startling, movie star beauty gracefully stepped into view. She was impressively tall for a Japanese woman, with long slender legs, her extensive luxurious raven hair glossy from meticulous care and finished with a narrow streak of crimson dye down one side that offset her golden-brown eyes. Her gait matched that of a dancer, one leg crossing in front of the other as she seemed to glide across the concrete, a paper parasol resting over one shoulder, shielding her fair skin from the sun.

Did the army conscript a geisha? A fashion model? A principal ballerina? Regardless of what she was before, the young woman now wore the same uniform as they, a definite demotion given her previous occupation. The lady seemed to know how to hold a crowd as she wordlessly approached, just slowly enough to build anticipation.

Click.

Her eyes regarded the camera for a moment. “Good afternoon,” she said at last, sweeping her gaze across the whole room. A gentle smile parted her lips. “At ease.”

A collective breath fell across the warehouse as everyone relaxed, slightly.

“I am Superior Private Ohara Hatomi, administrative assistant to Major Yamada Takehiko, and, to those stationed at the Wakkanai Airfield, your executive officer.” She looked to those closest to her bearing hanging Bs. “You may address me as Superior or ma’am.”

Despite only actually commanding a fourth of those present, everyone continued to give the Superior Private their undivided attention. While the Fourth Special Labor Corp was an officially recognized unit within the Imperial Army, females were not expected to rise beyond the rank of Private First Class. They were, after all, women. By keeping them all as privates, regardless of time of service or performance, it would guarantee that they would rarely outrank any male solider.

Based on her rank, this lady, whomever she was, must have accomplished something of great importance to be afforded an extra pip in status.

“I realize that for many of you, this is a difficult time. You have been uprooted from family and friends, familiar places, with scarce notice, and sown upon an isle that you know little or nothing about.”

Clearly, she was educated too.

“I will not lie. This will be hard, the hours longer, the demands greater than anything you have been expected of before. Many of you will become terribly homesick, exhausted, and will want to give up. Do not entertain those thoughts. Do not be an island. Lean on each other.” The Superior gestured with her free hand from right to left. “Look around. The girl on your right, the one on your left, they are your sisters now, your family. Look to each other for support. Lift each other up.”

Her right hand rose, three slender fingers extended briefly before they intertwined. “Always remember, a rope of three strands is difficult to sunder.”

She smiled. “That is all.”