American Sniper: The Autobiography Of The Most Lethal Sniper In U.S. Military History Part 15

"How many did y'all get tonight? Oh, that's right-y'all didn't go out."

Ballbusters. But I couldn't blame them. I thought our head shed was a bunch of p.u.s.s.ies.

We had started training to take down Mukarayin Dam northeast of Baghdad. The dam was important not only because it provided hydroelectric power, but because if it were allowed to flood it could have slowed military forces attacking Iraqis in the area. But the mission was continually postponed, and finally given to SEAL Team 5 when they rotated into the Gulf toward the end of our stay. (The mission, which followed our basic plan, was a success.)

There were many things we could have done. How much of an impact on the war they would have had, I have no idea. We certainly could have saved a few lives here and there, maybe shortened some conflicts by a day or more. Instead, we were told to get ready to go home. Our deployment was over.

I sat back at base for a couple of weeks with nothing to do. I felt like a little f.u.c.king coward, playing video games and waiting to s.h.i.+p out.

I was pretty p.i.s.sed. In fact, I was so mad I wanted to leave the Navy, and give up being a SEAL.

CHAPTER 5

Sniper

Taya:

The first time Chris came home, he was really disgusted with everything. With America, especially.

In the car on the way back to our house, we listened to the radio. People weren't talking about the war; life went on as if nothing was happening in Iraq.

"People are talking about bulls.h.i.+t," he said. "We're fighting for the country, and no one gives a s.h.i.+t."

He'd been really disappointed when the war began. He was back in Kuwait and had seen something on television that was negative about the troops. He called and said, "You know what? If that's what they think, f.u.c.k them. I'm out here ready to give my life and they're doing bulls.h.i.+t."

I had to tell him there were a lot of people who cared, not just for the troops in general, but for him. He had me, he had friends in San Diego and Texas, and family.

But the adjustment to being home was hard. He'd wake up punching. He'd always been jumpy, but now, when I got up in the middle of the night, I'd stop and say his name before I got back into bed. I had to wake him up before coming back to bed to ensure I wasn't hit with his basic reflex.

One time I woke up to him grabbing my arm with both of his hands. One hand was on the forearm and one just slightly above my elbow. He was sound asleep and appeared to be ready to snap my arm in half. I stayed as still as possible and kept repeating his name, getting louder each time so as not to startle him, but also to stop the impending damage to my arm. Finally, he woke and let go.

Slowly, we settled into some new habits, and adjusted.

SCARES

I didn't quit the SEALs.

I might have, if my contract hadn't still had a lot of time to run. Maybe I would have gone to the Marines. But it wasn't an option.

I had some reason for hope. When you come home and the Team returns from a deployment, there's a reshuffling at the top and you get new leaders.h.i.+p. There was always a chance our new head shed would be better.

I talked to Taya and told her how p.i.s.sed off I was. Of course, she had a different perspective: she was just happy that I was alive and home in one piece. Meanwhile, the bra.s.s got huge promotions and congratulations for their part in the war. They got the glory.

Bulls.h.i.+t glory.

Bulls.h.i.+t glory for a war they didn't fight and the cowardly stance they took. Their cowardice ended lives we could have saved if they would have let us do our jobs. But that's politics for you: a bunch of game-players sitting around congratulating each other in safety while real lives are getting screwed up.

Every time I returned home from deployment, starting then, I wouldn't leave the house for about a week. I'd just stay there. Generally, we'd get about a month off after unloading and sorting our gear and stuff. That first week I'd always stay home with Taya and keep to myself. Only after that would I start seeing family and friends.

I didn't have flashbacks of battle or anything dramatic like that; I just needed to be alone.

I do remember once, after the first deployment, when I had something like a flashback, though it only lasted a few seconds. I was sitting in the room we used as an office in our house in Alpine near San Diego. We had a burglar alarm system, and for some reason, Taya set it off accidentally when she came home.

It scared the ever-living s.h.i.+t out of me. I just immediately went right back to Kuwait. I dove under the desk. I thought it was a Scud attack.

We laugh about it now-but for those few seconds I was truly scared, more scared even than I had been in Kuwait when the Scuds actually did fly over.

I've had more fun with burglar alarms than I can recount. One day I woke up after Taya had left for work. As soon as I got out of bed, the alarm went off. This one was in voice mode, so it alerted me with a computerized voice:

"Intruder alert! Intruder in the house! Intruder alert!"

I grabbed my pistol and went to confront the criminal. No son of a b.i.t.c.h was breaking into my house and living to tell about it.

"Intruder: living room!"

I carefully proceeded to the living room and used all of my SEAL skills to clear the living room.

Vacant. Smart criminal.

I moved down the hall.

"Intruder: kitchen!"

The kitchen was also clear. The son of a b.i.t.c.h was running from me.

"Intruder: hall!"

Motherf.u.c.ker!

I can't tell you how long it took before I realized I was the intruder: the system was tracking me. Taya had set the alarm to a setting that a.s.sumed the house was vacant, turning on the motion detectors.

Y'all feel free to laugh. With me, not at me, right?

I always seemed more vulnerable at home. After every deployment, something would happen to me, usually during training. I broke a toe, a finger, all sorts of little injuries. Overseas, on deployment, in the war, I seemed invincible.

"You take your superhero cape off every time you come home from deployment," Taya used to joke.

After a while, I figured it was true.

My parents had been nervous the entire time I was away. They wanted to see me as soon as I got home, and I think my need to keep to myself at first probably hurt them more than they'll say. When we finally did get together, though, it was a pretty happy day.

My dad took my deployment especially hard, outwardly showing his anxiousness a lot more than my mother. It's funny-sometimes the strongest individuals feel the worst when events are out of their control, and they can't really be there for the people they love. I've felt it myself.

It was a pattern that would repeat itself every time I went overseas. My mom carried on like the stoic one; my otherwise stoic dad became the family worrier.