American Sniper - Boekje Pienter

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should get your attention, discerning subtle shapes that can tip off a
waiting ambush.
I had to practice to stay sharp. Observation is hard work. I’d go
outside and just train myself to spot things in the distance. I always
tried to hone my craft, even on leave. On a ranch in Texas, you see animals,
birds—you learn to look in the distance and spot movement,
shapes, little inconsistencies in the landscape.
For a while, it seemed like everything I did helped train me, even
video games. I had a little handheld mahjongg game that a friend of
mine had given us as a wedding present. I don’t know if it was exactly
appropriate as a wedding present—it’s a handheld, one-person
game—but as a training tool it was invaluable. In mahjongg, you scan
different tiles, looking for matches. I would play timed sessions
against the computer, working to sharpen my observation skills.
I said it before and I’ll keep saying it: I’m not the best shot in the
world. There were plenty of guys better than me, even in that class. I
only graduated about middle of the pack.
As it happened, the guy who was the honor man or best in our
class was part of our platoon. He never had as many kills as I did,
though, at least partly because he was sent to the Philippines for a few
months while I spent my time in Iraq. You need skill to be a sniper,
but you also need opportunity. And luck.
BEATEN BY DOLPHINS, EATEN BY SHARKS
After spending the entire summer at sniper school, I returned to my
platoon and got busy with the rest of our workup, going through the