American Sniper - Boekje Pienter

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“What the hell are you doing out there” asked one of the first
SEALs I met. “We’re hearing shit that you’re down there on the
ground.”
“Yeah, I am. No one’s coming out on the street.”
“What the hell are you doing” he said, pulling me aside. “You
know if our CO finds out you’re doing this, you’re out of here.”
He was right, but I shrugged him off. I knew in my heart what I
had to do. I also felt pretty confident in the officer who was my immediate
commander. He was a straight shooter and all about doing the
job that needed to get done.
Not to mention the fact that I was so far out of touch with my top
command that it would have taken a long time for them to find out, let
alone issue the orders to get me pulled out.
A bunch of other guys came over and started agreeing with me:
down on the street was where we needed to be. I have no idea what
they ended up doing; certainly, for the record, they all remained on the
roofs, sniping.
“Well hell, instead of using that Marine M-16,” said one of the
East Coast boys, “I brought my M-4 with me. You can borrow it if you
want.”
“Really”
I took it and wound up getting a bunch of kills on it. The M-16 and
the M-4 are both good weapons; the Marines prefer the latest model of
the M-16 for various reasons that have to do with the way they usually
fight. Of course, my preference in close quarters combat was for the
short-barreled M-4, and I was glad to borrow my friend’s gun for the
rest of my time in Fallujah.