American Sniper - Boekje Pienter

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second C-section that women bounce back from. No one told me
that part.)
I felt weak. I was mad at myself that I wasn’t tougher. It
just sucked.
The distances east of Ramadi made the .300 Win Mag my rifle of
choice, and I started taking it regularly on patrols. After the Army took
the hospital, they continued taking fire and getting attacked. It didn’t
take too long before they started getting mortar fire as well. So we
bumped out, fighting the insurgents who were shooting at them, and
looking for the mortar crews.
One day, we set up in a two-story building a short distance from
the hospital. The Army tried using special gear to figure out where the
mortars were being fired from, and we chose the house because it was
near the area they identified. But, for some reason, that day the insurgents
decided to lie low.
Maybe they were getting tired of dying.
I decided to see if we could flush them out. I always carried an
American flag inside my body armor. I took it out and strung some
550 cord (general-purpose nylon rope sometimes called parachute
cord) through the grommets. I tied the line to the lip on the roof, then
threw it over the side so it draped down the side of the building.
Within minutes, half a dozen insurgents stepped out with automatic
machine guns and started shooting at my flag.
We returned fire. Half of the enemy fell; the other half turned and
ran.
I still have the flag. They shot out two stars. Fair trade for their
lives, by my accounting.