American Sniper - Boekje Pienter

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The tank captain came and got us. They were engaged the whole way,
driving in under heavy contact. He brought two tanks and four Bradleys,
and they went Winchester, firing all their ammo. It was shit-hot,
a fierce hail of lead covering our retreat.
On the way back, I looked out the port on the back ramp of my
Bradley. All I could see was black smoke and ruined buildings. They’d
suckered us, and their entire neighborhood had paid the price.
For some reason, most of us thought Marc was going to live; we
thought Ryan was going to die. It wasn’t until we got back to camp that
we heard their fates were reversed.
Having lost two guys in the space of a few hours, our officers and
Tony decided it was time for us to take a break. We went back to Shark
Base and stood down. (Standing down means you’re out of action and
unavailable for combat. In some ways, it’s like an official timeout to
assess or reassess what you’re doing.)
It was August: hot, bloody, and black.
Taya:
Chris broke down when he called me with the news. I
hadn’t heard anything about it until he called, and it took me
by surprise.
I felt grateful that it wasn’t him, yet incredibly sad that it
was any of them.
I tried to be as quiet as possible as he talked. I wanted just
to listen. There have been very few times in his life, if ever, that
I’ve seen Chris in that much pain.