Were I ever to be in a situation where a grenade was about to go off nearby, I suspect I would in rapid order :-
a) Start crying, and
b) Soil myself
The last thing I would do is
c) Cooly throw myself on the grenade to protect my mates
Hats off to Lance Corporal Matthew Croucher of the Royal Marines who did exactly that and lived to tell the tale. His backpack ended up in orbit, but he somehow escaped to tell the tale and to pick up some bling from the queen today.
A man of his rank makes about £60 per day, and I'm guessing days like he's been through seem actually pretty blooming long.
I can't help but compare and contrast with Wrongathan Ross and Woeful Brand who (get/got/will almost certainly get in future) considerably more ... for doing what exactly ?
Monkeys throwing their own excrement around would seem nuanced by comparison.
And I certainly know who I'd rather have as a mate.