American Sniper - Boekje Pienter

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Aircraft carriers are a hell of a lot larger, but they can be just as
boring. At least they have lounges where you can play video games and
there are no restrictions on getting to the gym to blow off steam.
In fact, on one occasion, we were specifically requested to go to
the gym by the CO.
We were on the Kitty Hawk when they were having a problem
with gangs. Apparently, some punk sailors who were gang members
were causing quite a discipline problem aboard ship. The CO of the
boat pulled us over and told us when the gang used the gym.
So we went down to work out, locked the door behind us, and
fixed the gang problem.
During this workup, I missed a dive session because I got sick. It was
as if a light went off in my head. From that point on, just about every
time diving turned up on our practice schedule, I came down with a
very bad disease. Or I found a sniper-training trip that just had to be
taken at that point.
The rest of the guys teased me that I had better ninja smoke than
anybody.
And who am I to argue
I also got my first tattoo around this time. I wanted to honor the
SEALs, and yet I didn’t feel as if I’d earned a Trident tattoo. (The official
SEAL emblem had an eagle perched in an overwatch position on a
trident that forms the crossbar of an anchor; a flintlock pistol sits in
front of it. The insignia is known as the trident or, unofficially, a “Budweiser,”
the reference being to BUD/S . . . or the beer, depending on
who you ask.)