American Sniper: The Autobiography Of The Most Lethal Sniper In U.S. Military History Part 56

Another unit heard of our little adventure, and they decided that they should visit the bar and see if history would repeat itself.

It did.

They won that fight, but from what I understand the conditions were a little more difficult. The outcome wasn't quite so lopsided.

A little after that, yet another military group soon had to train in the same area. By now, there was a compet.i.tion. The only problem was that the folks who lived there knew there would be a compet.i.tion. And they prepared for it.

They got their collective a.s.ses kicked.

From then on, the entire town was placed off limits for SEALs.

You might think it'd be tough to get into a drunken brawl in Kuwait, since there really aren't any bars where you can drink alcohol. But it just so happened that there was a restaurant where we liked to eat, and where, not so coincidentally, it was easy to sneak in alcohol.

We were there one night and started to get a little loud. Some of the locals objected; there was an argument, which led to a fight. Four of us, including myself, were detained.

The rest of my boys came over and asked the police to release us.

"No way," said the police. "They're going to jail and stand trial."

They emphasized their position. My boys emphasized theirs.

If you've read this far, you've caught on that SEALs can be very persuasive. The Kuwaitis finally saw it their way and released us.

I was arrested in Steamboat Springs, Colorado, though I think in that case the circ.u.mstances may speak well of me. I was sitting in the bar when a waitress pa.s.sed with a pitcher of beer. A guy at a table nearby pushed his chair back and b.u.mped into her, not knowing she was there; a little bit of beer spilled on him.

He got up and slapped her.

I went over and defended her honor the only way I know how. That got me arrested. Those granolas are tough when it comes to fighting with women.

Those charges, like all the others, were dismissed.

THE SHERIFF OF RAMADI

The Ramadi offensive would eventually be considered an important milestone and turning point in the war, one of the key events that helped Iraq emerge from utter chaos. Because of that, there was a good deal of attention on the fighters who were there. And some of that attention eventually came to focus on our Team.

As I hope I've made clear, I don't feel SEALs should be singled out publicly as a force. We don't need the publicity. We are silent professionals, every one of us; the quieter we are, the better able we are to do our job.

Unfortunately, that's not the world we live in. If it were, I wouldn't have felt it necessary to write this book.

Let me say for the record that I believe the credit in Ramadi and in all of Iraq should go to the Army and Marine warriors who fought there as well as the SEALs. It should be fairly proportioned out. Yes, SEALs did a good job, and gave their blood. But as we told the Army and Marine officers and enlisted men we fought beside, we're no better than those men when it comes to courage and worth.

But being in the modern world, people were interested in knowing about SEALs. After we got back, command called us together for a briefing so we could tell a famous author and former SEAL what had happened in battle. The author was d.i.c.k Couch.

The funny thing was, he started out not by listening but by talking.

Not even talking. Mr. Couch came and lectured us about how wrong-headed we were.

I have a lot of respect for Mr. Couch's service during the Vietnam War, where he served with Navy Underwater Demolition and SEAL Teams. I honor and respect him greatly for that. But a few of the things he said that day didn't sit all that well with me.

He got up in front of the room and started telling us that we were doing things all wrong. He told us we should be winning their hearts and minds instead of killing them.

"SEALs should be more SF-like," he claimed, referring (I guess) to one of Special Forces' traditional missions of training indigenous people.

Last time I checked, they think it's okay to shoot people who shoot at you, but maybe that's beside the point.

I was sitting there getting furious. So was the entire team, though they all kept their mouths shut. He finally asked for comments.

My hand shot up.

I made a few disparaging remarks about what I thought we might do to the country, then I got serious.

"They only started coming to the peace table after we killed enough of the savages out there," I told him. "That was the key."

I may have used some other colorful phrases as I discussed what was really going on out there. We had a bit of a back-and-forth before my head shed signaled that I ought to leave the room. I was glad to comply.

Afterward, my CO and command chief were furious with me. But they couldn't do too much, because they knew I was right.

Mr. Couch wanted to interview me later on. I was reluctant. Command wanted me to answer his questions. Even my chief sat me down and talked to me.

So I did. Yup, nope. That was the interview.

In fairness, from what I've heard his book is not quite as negative as I understood his lecture to be. So maybe a few of my fellow SEALs did have some influence on him.

You know how Ramadi was won?

We went in and killed all the bad people we could find.

When we started, the decent (or potentially decent) Iraqis didn't fear the United States; they did fear the terrorists. The U.S. told them, "We'll make it better for you."

The terrorists said, "We'll cut your head off."

Who would you fear? Who would you listen to?

When we went into Ramadi, we told the terrorists, "We'll cut your head off. We will do whatever we have to and eliminate you."

Not only did we get the terrorists' attention-we got everyone's attention. We showed we were the force to be reckoned with.

That's where the so-called Great Awakening came. It wasn't from kissing up to the Iraqis. It was from kicking b.u.t.t.

The tribal leaders saw that we were bad-a.s.ses, and they'd better get their act together, work together, and stop accommodating the insurgents. Force moved that battle. We killed the bad guys and brought the leaders to the peace table.

That is how the world works.

KNEE SURGERY

I'd first hurt my knees in Fallujah when the wall fell on me. Cortisone shots helped for a while, but the pain kept coming back and getting worse. The docs told me I needed to have my legs operated on, but doing that would have meant I would have to take time off and miss the war.