American Sniper - Boekje Pienter

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I remained torn up about Marcus for the rest of the night, in my own
private black hole. I stayed there for a few days.
Work, of course, continued. One day, my chief popped his head
into the room and signaled me to join him outside.
“Hey, they found Marcus,” he said as soon as we were alone.
“Great.”
“He’s fucked up.”
“So what He’s going to make it.” Anyone who knew Marcus knew
that was true. The man cannot be kept down.
“Yeah, you’re right,” said my chief. “But he’s pretty tore up, beat
up. It’ll be hard.”
It was hard, but Marcus was up to it. In fact, despite health issues
that continue to dog him, he would deploy again not long after leaving
the hospital.
EXPERT, SO-CALLED
Because of what I’d done in Fallujah, I was pulled out a few times to
talk to head shed types about how I thought snipers should be deployed.
I was now a Subject Matter Expert—an SME in militarese.
I hated it.
Some people might find it flattering to be talking to a bunch of
high-ranking officers, but I just wanted to do my job. It was torture
sitting in the room, trying to explain what the war was like.
They’d ask me questions like, “What kind of gear should we
have” Not unreasonable, I guess, but all I could think of was: God,
you guys are really all pretty stupid. This is basic stuff you should
have figured out long ago.