Iknow the look of an armed patrol. I’ve seen it in Baghdad, in Syria — in streets where fear ruled and peace was fragile. I never expected to see that same look on the subway in our own capital.

Traveling from my home in Northeast D.C. to Dupont Circle, I passed several pairs of National Guard soldiers in full gear — at stations, on trains and patrolling sidewalks. Some carried sidearms. One caught me looking and waved with an antagonistic grin. I stopped, showed him my military ID and spoke with him. We talked briefly about what it means to be a professional in uniform, about how the Army is judged not only by its strength but by its restraint.

I reminded him that the most important weapon a soldier carries in a city like this isn’t on his hip — it’s the trust of the people around him.

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