Smoke, dust, screams, blood, smells for gun powder, bullets flying everywhere, and fire. Fire burned everywhere. Cars and buildings burning, lighting up the night as bombs went off left and right. There he crouched, now the leader for his squad. His leading commander’s body lay lifeless in the street, eyes blank, head turned to where it seemed he was looking at him. Legs blown to the middle of BFE, arms broke and bent in ways that human’s arms should never be bent, and guts flooding out on the street. Eight men crouched behind him. Some injured mildly, others taken into shock, and the rest clueless on what to do, other than kill. There he crouched, first battle, first deployment, with eight men's lives in his hands. He knew what he had to do, but in order to do it he'd have to do the one thing he really didn't want to do.

Lt. Jordan gave his life up that night. All eight men are still alive, and he told one man before he took his last breath, "You're welcome."