Chris did as he was told, staying against the log and picking his targets. A hat bobbing up or a muzzle flash, a glimpse of black pajamas as one of the VC made a dash. He fired steadily, trying to make every shot count. He was not unaware that the amount of enemy in the jungle versus the time they might be out there was not in their favor, conserving ammo was going to be crucial. 

As he searched the long grass he saw one man pop up with something clutched in his hand. "Fuckin' grenade!" he centered on the man’s chest as he stood to throw it and fired of several shots, hitting him in the center mass, the grenade dropping a few feet away with the limp throw. He ducked his head down as it blew up harmlessly, the only victim was the Chuck already dying from the M-16 rounds. 

Chris licked the sweat from his lip and squinted, his glasses slipping down a little. He could hear Davis start his count and he focused on any movement in front of him. Once they moved, he laid down the fire to keep any VC ahead of them distracted and concerned with the barrage of bullets. He emptied the rest of the clip, snatching up another and slapped in place, raising his rifle in time to fire at Charlie taking shots at Derricks manning the machine gun.