American Sniper - Boekje Pienter

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We stayed in our rooms, replacing bodily fluids, keeping to
ourselves mostly.
I spent a lot of time praying to God.
I’m not the kind of person who makes a big show out of religion. I
believe, but I don’t necessarily get down on my knees or sing real loud
in church. But I find some comfort in faith, and I found it in those days
after my friends had been shot up.
Ever since I had gone through BUD/S, I’d carried a Bible with me.
I hadn’t read it all that much, but it had always been with me. Now I
opened it and read some of the passages. I skipped around, read a bit,
skipped around some more.
With all hell breaking loose around me, it felt better to know I was
part of something bigger.
My emotions shot up when I heard that Ryan had survived. But my
overriding reaction was: Why wasn’t it me
Why did this have to happen to a new guy
I’d seen a lot of action; I’d had my achievements. I had my war. I
should have been the one sidelined. I should have been the one
blinded.
Ryan would never see the look on his family’s face when he came
home. He’d never see how much sweeter everything is when you get
back—see how much better America looks when you’ve been gone
from it for a while.
You forget how beautiful life is, if you don’t get a chance to see
things like that. He never would.
And no matter what anybody told me, I felt responsible for that.