Like a wave crashing against a rock, a hush fell over the crowd. The silence was uncomfortable yet necessary as the sound of a distinctive walk echoed the field. The crowd was mostly paupers and veterans from past wars that looked on with anticipation. The stage was not that fancy, but it served its purpose with dignity. To the right of the stage emerged a tall figure dressed in uniform, marching with determination. As his face became visible to the crowd and up roar emerged. Men cheered, women cheered, children cheered, babies cheered. The man reached the podium grasping it intensely. His eyes were closed as he looked up and his chest expanded. As he exhaled he opened his eyes and they immediately zeroed in on a lone hill in the distance. Tears came to his eyes as he hesitantly pulled the podium's microphone towards his lips. "I do not deserve this award..."

Like a wave crashing against a rock, bodies fell into the trenches. Private Jason Mills stood in awe as the sound of each body dully hit the earth. His hands were shaking and his legs were shaking and his gun was shaking and his boots were shaking. His commanding officer pulled him by the shoulder and yelled out commands, but shock had rendered him temporarily deaf. A fierce slap to the face brought back his hearing. "Dang it Mills! We need a plan to get out of these god forsaken trenches now! You're the squadron's battle planner, now plan for the next course of action!" yelled the officer. He hated his officer so much, but he loved him unconditionally. He loathed his raspy voice, but knew it was his motivation. Mills knew his next course of action. "We'll have three soldiers make a b-line towards that hill to draw enemy fire while the rest of us make haste to fall back so we can call in an airstrike. If all goes well, we can retrieve the soldiers with few casualties." Mills spoke confidently. The officer shook his head. " That is too many casualties, I'll do it on my own." He spoke solemnly. Mills looked at him with disbelief and wanted to reconsider the plan, but was too late. The officer jumped out of the trench and began running, and the remaining soldiers ran in the opposite direction. Mills followed the other soldiers while watching the officer draw fire. As the squadron waited for the signal to call in the airstrike, Mills watched as the officer was shot down at the base of the hill. His determination was so strong that he began to drag himself up hill. The soldiers look to Mills for the call. He looked back. "Call it."

"Boom!" "Bang!" "PROWWW!!!" The enemy trench was destroyed. Not waiting for the smoke to clear, Mills ran into the cloud of debris to retrieve his officer. It was not until the smoke cleared that the officer was spotted laying against a tree on the top of the hill. Mills rushed to him and kneeled. "Are you okay?!" Mills received his answer visually as the officer slumped over and revealed multiple exit wounds in his back. Mills silently stood up and snatched the dog tags from the officer's neck.

He pushed the microphone away for a moment and brought it back, this time with his voice clear and calm.
"Sergeant Jason Mills Sr. was a brave man who gave his life to his squadron. My battle plans were the cause of this. Not only did I lose a great officer because of my mistake, I endangered my whole squadron, but most importantly, I lost a father." The man pushed the microphone away for one final time and walked away, but not before taking one final glance at the hill.