Anyway, Toloza owned a pocket knife. He brought it with him to Iraq, probably in anticipation of the myriad knife-related tasks you run into when your life is basically one long armed campout. He used it to slice open MREs, maybe pry open the odd can of chili, and all in all the knife had a pretty placid life until the day Iraqi gunmen surrounded Toloza and his buddies.
The soldiers quickly ran out of ammunition. They were wounded, outnumbered, and functionally unarmed. It's not the sort of situation most soldiers thrive in. It's also not the sort of situation small pocket knives thrive in, especially considering small pocket knives only really thrive when you're whittlin' or cutting up lines of coke. But Corporal Toloza had gone to all the trouble of bringing that knife to Iraq. So he figured "fuck it" and charged a bunch of dudes with automatic rifles wielding a blade almost small enough to legally carry on a plane.
AP Photo/Saurabh Das via Joint Force Quarterly
"Does the crusted blood count against my 3 ounces of liquid?"
Toloza stabbed several of the attackers, who, we've got to stress this, had freaking guns. This whole "crazy knife-wielding man" thing was enough to knock the Iraqis off their game until a counterattack could rescue Toloza and his men. Although if they hadn't, he was probably only one X-ACTO away from being able to finish the job.