Usually I picture me jumping through a flaming trench, which a damsel in distress draped over my shoulder, C7 in the other hand, shooting variously large hordes of nazi's/zombies/ignorant anti-war activists or any combination of the three.
But no seriously, I've never had a very romantic view of combat, only when I was a little kid (of course). I think seeing my Grandfather in a prosthetic my whole life helped me realize that to be honest. Reading that story though, it makes me proud to the bone for the troops fighting over there. They've got a hell of a job over there, and they are getting it done.