American Sniper - Boekje Pienter

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the desert. We also practiced deploying the DPVs out of helicopters,
riding out the back when they touched down: a rodeo on wheels.
As January neared its end, we started getting worried, not that the
war was going to break out, but that it would start without us. The
usual SEAL deployment at the time was six months. We’d shipped out
in September, and were due to rotate back to the States within a few
weeks.
I wanted to fight. I wanted to do what I’d been trained for. American
taxpayers had invested considerable dollars in my education as a
SEAL. I wanted to defend my country, do my duty, and do my job.
I wanted, more than anything, to experience the thrill of battle.
Taya saw things a lot differently.
Taya:
I was terrified the whole time as the buildup continued toward
war. Even though the war hadn’t officially started, I
knew they were working dangerous ops. When SEALs work,
there’s always some risk involved. Chris tried to play things
down to me so I wouldn’t worry, but I wasn’t oblivious and I
could read between the lines. My anxiety came out in different
ways. I was jumpy. I’d see things out of the corner of my eye
that weren’t there. I couldn’t sleep without all the lights on; I’d
read every night until my eyes closed involuntarily. I did
everything I could to avoid being alone or having too much
time to think.
Chris called twice with stories about helicopter accidents
that he’d been in. Both were extremely minor, but he was