American Sniper - Boekje Pienter

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We made it back to the rest of the Marines without either of us getting
hit again.
I never found out who that wounded guy was. I’ve been told he
was a second lieutenant, but I never had a chance to track him down.
The other Marines said I saved his life. But it wasn’t just me. Getting
all those guys to safety was a joint effort; we all worked together.
The Corps was grateful that I had helped rescue their people, and
one of the officers put me in for a Silver Star.
According to the story I heard, the generals sitting at their desks
decided that, since no Marines had gotten Silver Stars during the assault,
they weren’t going to award one to a SEAL. I got a Bronze Star
with a V (for valor in combat) instead.
Makes me smirk just to think about it.
Medals are all right, but they have a lot to do with politics, and I
am not a fan of politics.
All told, I would end my career as a SEAL with two Silver Stars
and five Bronze Medals, all for valor. I’m proud of my service, but I
sure as hell didn’t do it for any medal. They don’t make me any better
or less than any other guy who served. Medals never tell the whole
story. And like I said, in the end they’ve become more political than
accurate. I’ve seen men who deserved a lot more and men who deserved
a lot less rewarded by higher-ups negotiating for whatever public
cause they were working on at the time. For all these reasons, they
are not on display at my house or in my office.
My wife is always encouraging me to organize or frame the paperwork
on them and display the medals. Political or not, she still thinks
they are part of the story of my service.
Maybe I’ll get around to it someday.