Shit!

I pulled the pin.
One.
Fear in their eyes as they saw what I did and knew who I was.
Two.
Realization that there was no escape except the final embrace
of the cold earth and the worms.
Three.
I threw it. Like you throw a baseball from far left field and
the man on third is heading home.
Four.
They started to run, all but one who stared me in the eye and
knew what I didn't.
Five.

He fell on it.
He embraced death as if it were his only salvation,
his only hope.
His duty and honor.
In a flash, I knew that he had won.
He beat me by looking me in the eye.
He beat me by knowing I would never forget his face.
He beat me by dying first.

The rest of the squad began to fan out and look for others even
as I pulled the pin. They found me after. Holding the hand of
a dead man, my brother.
I buried him there.
I buried him because I could not let the vultures take him.
I buried him because I could not let my honor be less than his.
I buried him because I killed him.
A man. Not an enemy.
A man with hopes and fears like my own. But who, upon seeing the
face of death on a 21 year old caucasian, met his death to give a
chance to the other men he was with.
Stupid son-of-a-bitch didn't know that he didn't have enough body
mass to make a difference.