American Sniper - Boekje Pienter

4
Five Minutes to Live
DUNE BUGGIES AND MUD DON’T MIX
Geared up and strapped in, I sat vibrating in the gunner’s chair of the
DPV shortly after nightfall March 20, 2003, as an Air Force MH-53 lifted
off the runway in Kuwait. The vehicle had been loaded into the
rear of the PAVE-Low aircraft, and we were en route toward the mission
we’d spent the past several weeks rehearsing. The waiting was
about to come to an end; Operation Iraqi Freedom was underway.
My war was finally here.
I was sweating, and not just with excitement. Not knowing exactly
what Saddam might have in store, we’d been ordered to wear full
MOPP gear (“Mission Oriented Protective Posture,” or spacesuits to
some). The suits protect against chemical attacks, but they’re about as
comfortable as rubber pajamas, and the gas mask that comes with
them is twice as bad.