American Sniper - Boekje Pienter

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had it put on the inside of my arm where not everyone would see, but I
knew it was there. I didn’t want it to be out there bragging.
On the front of my arm, I had a crusader cross inked in. I wanted
everyone to know I was a Christian. I had it put in in red, for blood. I
hated the damn savages I’d been fighting. I always will. They’ve taken
so much from me.
Even the tattoos became a cause for stress between my wife and myself.
She didn’t like tattoos in general, and the way I got these—staying
out late one evening when she was expecting me home, surprising her
with them—added to our friction.
Taya saw it as one more sign that I was changing, becoming somebody
she didn’t know.
I didn’t think of it that way at all, though I admit I knew she
wouldn’t like it. But it’s better to ask for forgiveness than permission.
Actually, I had wanted full sleeves, so, in my mind, it was a
compromise.
GETTING READY TO GO
While I was home, Taya became pregnant with our second child.
Again, that was a lot of strain for my wife.
My father told Taya that he was sure once I saw my son and spent
time with him, I wouldn’t want to reenlist or go back to war.
But while we talked a lot about it, in the end I didn’t feel there was
much of a question about what to do. I was a SEAL. I was trained for
war. I was made for it. My country was at war and it needed me.