Après la deuxième explosion et le cochon grogneur, il restait peu de VC qui s'était chargé vers eux. Chris avait tiré sur un autre, il avait regardé la fleur rouge sur la poitrine de l'homme avant de tomber. Quand les AK sont morts, il a ressenti un frisson qu'ils avaient gagné et il a souri un sourire denté.
Hé, mec, j'en ai eu un!Hé, il s'est exclamé tout comme la torche a explosé dans le ciel. Son rire est mort et il a bouffé un souffle, même mourir Charlie était un trou du cul.
Si les grenades et les coups de feu n'étaient pas nuls dans leur position, alors la torche le serait certainement, il était probablement un signal connu et bientôt les arbres autour d'eux seraient pleins de l'ennemi. Chris a frotté la sueur de son front, nettoyant ses lunettes sur son t-shirt avant de regarder les deux hommes noirs à côté de lui. Il sentait que légèrement tremblant dans les membres et le battement de son cœur. C'était une hâte d'être au combat, d'être au bord de la mort et de regarder droit dessus et de cracher dans son visage. Pas cette fois, frérot. C'était comme déchiqueter un lourd et sortir de l'autre côté et Chris était venu à réaliser que peu de temps après s'être remis juste d'avoir peur c'était qu'il commençait à apprécier le coup d'adrénaline qui est venu avec une fusillade. C'était le cul qui se branlait, mais qu'est-ce qui était drôle dans la vie? Dans les moments tranquilles, cela l'a dérangé qu'il puisse trop aimer, mais son père lui avait dit de ne pas être un lâche et le déshonorer plus qu'il ne l'avait déjà fait. Va te faire foutre, papa. Retirez un autre corps pour vous, pensa-t-il. C'est seulement quand il pensait à Diana qu'il se sentait un peu mal. Touchant l'anneau d'argent autour de son doigt, il a essayé de ne pas se souvenir d'elle et de se concentrer sur le travail qu'ils auraient quand plus de CV est arrivé à la fête.
Il a dit qu'il allait s'étouffer sur ce porc avec une petite blague avant d'atteindre sa radio et de tourner un regard vers Davis. Hé, sergent? Tu veux passer un coup de fil et peut-être faire un tour?
Name: Chris Hoffman
Age: 18, born Sept. 14, 1949
Gender: Male
Rank: Private
Ethnicity/Nationality:  White
Physical Description: Standing an even six feet tall, he is lanky nearly to the point of skinny but his muscles are lean and wiry. His blonde hair cut short from basic training but it is growing out. Despite his fair coloring, he tans well from the years on the beaches, his bright green eyes standing out even behind the thick Army issue glasses. He wears his father's watch and a silver ring given to him by his girlfriend.

Skillset: Chris is trained as a rifleman and a radio operator. Naturally relaxed and calm, he deals with stress fairly well and thus makes an ideal for his job.
History:
Born in San Jose, California, Chris grew up with two younger sisters and a domineering father who pushed him to play sports that he never showed an interest in, especially football. His childhood was normal and when he was 12 he started working for his dad at his hardware shop. Chris saved up enough to buy his first surfboard which his father promptly confiscated and sawed in half with the excuse that surfing was too dangerous. Furious but unable to do anything about it, Chris pretended to be cool with it but secretly began to save up and when he was 14 got a scooter. That was when he began to run away for weekends at the beach, testing out the chilly Northern Californian waters. By 16 he was skipping school to travel down to LA, surfing and camping on the beach. His father gave him the ultimatium to move out or stay home but no more running off. Having made older friends in SoCal, Chris packed his bags and left, enrolling himself in school with an aunt's address who lived in Pico Rivera. He scraped by with odd jobs in construction and selling weed, somehow managing to graduate with a C average. His summer went by in a blur of sand, surf, and acid marked by two major instances. He met his girlfriend Diana and his draft number was called. He considered moving to Canada or Mexico, as he can speak decent Spanish since his grades were shitty and he was too broke for college. His father refused to help him pay for it, citing that he had served in the Army in Europe when he was called up. Before he knew it, Chris was having his long sun bleached hair shaved off and some dude that wasn't his father screaming in his face. He made it through boot camp well enough, he was physically fit though he struggled with tactics as it was something he was never interested in. Chris tried to get in with the Corps of Engineers but when that did not work out he decided to become a radio operator. He is currently in his second month of his year tour.
Equipment: 

 M-16A1 rifle, extra magazines
 PRC-25 field radio 
 Fatigues, boots, extra socks, bandana
 Helmet with a peace sign drawn on one side and the words "Hang Loose!" on the other
 2 WP, 2 colored smoke grenades, 2 frag grenades
 35 millimeter camera, pack of Kools containing some handrolled 'cigarettes', zippo lighter, picture of his girlfriend in his wallet, dogtags
 Army issue knife, C-rations, towel, canteens, machete, extra radio batteries (etc I'll fill in as I'm able to do the proper research)
 Looted AK-47, 3 magazines