American Sniper - Boekje Pienter

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COVERED WITH CRAP
There were lighter moments, but even some of those were shitty.
Literally.
Our point man, Tommy, was a great guy but, as it turned out, a
terrible point in a lot of ways.
Or maybe I should say sometimes he was more of a duck than a
point man. If there was a puddle between us and the objective, Tommy
took us through it. The deeper the better. He was always having us
walk through the worst possible terrain.
It got so ridiculous that finally I told him, “One more time, I’m going
to whup your ass, and you’re fired.”
On the very next mission, he found a path to a village that he was
sure would be dry. I had my doubts. In fact, I pointed them out to him.
“Oh, no, no,” he insisted, “it’s good, it’s good.”
Once we were out in the field, we followed him across some farmland
on a narrow path that led to a pipe across a path of mud. I was at
the back at the group, one of the last to come across the pipe. As I
stepped off, I sunk right through the mud and into crap up to my knee.
The mud was actually just a thin crust atop a deep pool of sewage.
It stunk even worse than Iraq usually stunk.
“Tommy,” I yelled, “I’m going to whip your ass as soon as we get
to the house.”
We pushed on to the house. I was still in the rear. We cleared the
house and, once all the snipers were deployed, I went to find Tommy
and give him the thrashing I’d promised.
Tommy was already paying for his sins: when I found him downstairs,
he was hooked up to an IV and puking his brains out. He had