We lay still against the dune in an apprehensive silence. They would pass, but we needed to wait for the right moment. My body shuddered, feeling the cold soak in through my trouser leg from the damp ground. It's slimy, artic feeling nipped against my cheek as Davis pushed my head down.

I glanced over at him, watching the wisps of his breath escape in a steady rhythm. His steely grey eyes darted back and forth, constantly watching the movement up ahead. His fingers were clutched tightly around the Browning he had picked off Anderson's corpse. His body was poised, prepared to leap up and into action at a moment's notice; yet his every muscle were relaxed. He was calm... he was ready.

He looked down at his watch for the second time, before peeking over the top once more. As he repeated the action again, with that calm yet precise air about him, I decided that regardles of all that had happened in the past three months, the Sergeant wasn't just the older soldier out of the two of us.

"Get ready sunshine, we go on my mark."

He was the better one.