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I can't see a thing, it's all blurry, and my ears are ringing loudly. What in god's name happened?
Dirt starts to clog my view. I hear screams of...pain, warning? I think I'm too confused to guess.

"Jackson!" roars Sergeant Mahler
Suddenly Jackson snapped out of his dazed stupor, and sharply sat up.
He adjusted his dusty khaki helmet, and grabbed his combat shotgun.
"Sorry sir" Jackson replied.
"Are you okay? You took a nasty bash to the head from that 'nade"
"Yeh I'm fine, I think"
"Doyle" shouted Mahler, calling up the squad's medic.
"Let's check you out lad" said Doyle warmly,
Doyle wasn't even two years older than Jackson but as he was the new trooper everyone called him lad.
Doyle lifted Jackson's eyelids and checked for pupil dilation, he then took off his helmet and checked for any cuts or open wounds.
"Thought he would, he's got a mild concussion. May be a bit dizzy"
"That's good news" said Jackson sarcastically.
"Michael's go to the top corner, give us some cover fire." barked Mahler
"Sir!" Michaels replied

Michaels sprinted to the position, bullets skimming past him and scratching off the dusty road.
He hid behind the husk of a burnt out troop carrier as he caught his breath. He could see the small lead bullets soaring past him, sparks cracked from the floor as bullet and ground collided.
Again he sprinted His heart pounding, his lungs pushing oxygen in and out of his body rapidly.
He reached the corner and hid behind a great pillar of concrete.
"EAT THIS!" he screamed, pulling the trigger of his m16 rapidly. Like angels of death, the bullets tore apart the Somali militia, each one falling to the floor like stuffed dolls.

"Move up!" called Michaels
The rest of the squad ran to the small building that was being defended by Michaels, Each catapulting themselves through the doorway to prevent being shot. Jackson was lagging behind due to his dizziness.
"C'mon Jackson, leg it!"
Jackson stumbled forward his concussion becoming heavier and heavier. He collapsed onto his knees holding his head and screaming in pain.
"I'll get him!" yelled Michaels
He darted towards Jackson and dragged him into the cover of a smashed market stall.
"C'mon man you'll be fine, don't pass out on me, and keep talking"
"Oh God it hurts, like I've been shot in the head it hurts so much" Jackson cried.
Micheals picked him up and put him over his shoulders.
"Cover fire men!" screamed Mahler as the rest of the squad opened fire on the insurgents.
Micheals stood up, supporting the screaming Jackson on his shoulders.
He jogged as fast as he could so that he did not drop the crying man on his shoulders.

The militiaman saw the two troopers running in between the gap and steadied the sights of his AK 47 upon them. He followed them along the gap and squeezed the trigger lightly.
He saw his opening and pulled it fully, the AK spat the bullets out like a viper's lunge.

What is this feeling? I thought, I suddenly felt weak, almost as if something just made me lose my energy.
What is this feeling? It's numb all through my stomach. Wait no, I can feel the pain, slightly, it's going dark.
I think I'll lay here for a while. I'll be fine later.

'Michaels!' screamed Jackson as he scrabbled behind a wall, he saw Michaels on his knees staring out at him, smiling as if at peace. Then a second shot finally dropped him to his face.
'Michaels! He screamed again. 'Michaels!'
Jackson grabbed Michael's collar and dragged him behind the wall.
'Wake up man' he cried silently, cradling Michaels like he was a baby, the limp body not responding.
'Wake up' Jackson repeated, tears dropping from his eyes, his nose sniffing
'Please'