I woke up that day thinking it would just be a normal day in camp bastion. Little did i know it would be my best friend and my comrades last day. I wish I could have said something to him before he passed away. We were patrolling the local village when all of a sudden we heard a vicious shout, which translates to 'kill him' in Arabic. My friend and fellow soldier had found his way into the local gangs house, we knew this would mean trouble. We saw him running out of the house followed by a spree of gunfire. He then did one of the most admirable things a soldier could do. He threw himself in front of the gunfire, saving us from being killed, but letting himself die in the process. His body parts were flying everywhere, chunks scattered all over the dusty floor of the village. In his dying words, he said to us, 'Grenade'. He then crawled his blood spewing body to where there was a cold metal grenade lying there, slowly ready to explode. He lifted himself up and rested on it. Taking the impact. He knew he had nothing left to live for.