American Sniper - Boekje Pienter

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“Let’s do it,” said LT, following me.
We turned around and raced back to the house. Meanwhile, insurgents
were sweeping toward it—so close we could hear them. We
cleared the courtyard, sure we would run into them.
Fortunately, there was no one there. I grabbed the rifle and we
raced back to the Bradleys, about two seconds ahead of a grenade attack.
The ramp shut and the explosions sounded.
“What the hell” demanded the officer in charge as the vehicle
drove off.
LT smirked.
“I’ll explain later,” he said.
I’m not sure he ever did.
VICTORY
It took about a month to get the barriers up. As the Army reached its
objective, the insurgents started to give up.
It was probably a combination of them realizing the wall was going
to be finished whether they liked it or not, and the fact that we had
killed so many of the bastards that they couldn’t mount much of an attack.
Where thirty or forty insurgents would gather with AKs and
RPGs to fire on a single fence crew at the beginning of the op, toward
the end the bad guys were putting together attacks with two or three
men. Gradually, they faded into the slums around us.
Muqtada al-Sadr, meanwhile, decided it was time for him to try
and negotiate a peace with the Iraqi government. He declared a ceasefire
and started talking to the government.
Imagine that.