American Sniper - Boekje Pienter

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We moved the instant the grenade started going off. I came in
through the door, and caught sight of the NCO directing the team. He
motioned me forward silently, and I ran to clear and secure my room.
The room was empty.
All clear.
I went back downstairs. Some of the others had found the guy
we’d come for and were already loading him into one of the Hummers.
The rest of the Iraqis who’d been in the house stood around, looking
scared to death.
Back outside, I hopped into the Hummer and started directing the
team back to base. The mission was uneventful, but as far as the
GROM were concerned, my cherry had been burst—from that point
on, I was a full-fledged member of the team.
BUFFALO-PISS VODKA
We went on DAs for another two and a half weeks, but there was only
one where we had anything like real trouble. A guy wanted to fight as
we were going in. Unfortunately for him, all he had were his bare fists.
Here he’s facing a squad of soldiers, each heavily armed and protected
by body armor. He was either stupid or courageous, or maybe both.
The GROM took care of him quickly. One less asshole on the
wanted list.
We picked up a pretty wide variety of suspects—financiers for al-
Qaeda, bomb-makers, insurgents, foreign insurgents—one time we
picked up a truckload of them.