We pull in money, recruits, just to combat pubbies. Rubbing our noses in bloody Battlefield dirt... all for Revengeance.

Why are we still here? Just to suffer? Every night, I can feel my FAMAS... and my 1911. Even my paddles. The tags I've lost, the Good Squad I've lost, won't stop hurting. It's like they're all still there. You feel it too, don't you?