American Sniper: The Autobiography of the Most Lethal Sniper in U. S. Military History

Part of it is personal. It’s the same way for athletes: an athlete
wants to be in a big game, wants to compete on the field or in the
ring. But another part, a bigger part I think, is patriotism.
It’s the sort of thing that if it has to be explained, you’re not
going to understand. But maybe this will help:
One night a little later on, we were in an exhausting firefight. Ten
of us spent roughly forty-eight hours in the second story of an old,
abandoned brick building, fighting in hundred-degree-plus heat
wearing full armor. Bullets flew in, demolishing the walls around us
practically nonstop. The only break we took was to reload.
Finally, as the sun came up in the morning, the sound of gunfire
and bullets hitting brick stopped. The fight was over. It became

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eerily quiet.
When the Marines came in to relieve us, they found every man in
the room either slumped against a wall or collapsed on the floor,
dressing wounds or just soaking in the situation.
One of the Marines outside took an American flag and hoisted it
over the position. Someone else played the National Anthem—I
have no idea where the music came from, but the symbolism and
the way it spoke to the soul was overwhelming; it remains one of
my most powerful memories.
Every battle-weary man rose, went to the window, and saluted.
The words of the music echoed in each of us as we watched the
Stars and Stripes wave literally in dawn’s early light. The reminder
of what we were fighting for caused tears as well as blood and
sweat to run freely from all of us.
I’ve lived the literal meaning of the “land of the free” and “home
of the brave.” It’s not corny for me. I feel it in my heart. I feel it in
my chest. Even at a ball game, when someone talks during the
anthem or doesn’t take off his hat, it pisses me off. I’m not one to
be quiet about it, either.
For myself and the SEALs I was with, patriotism and getting into
the heat of the battle were deeply connected. But how much a unit
like ours can fight depends a lot on leadership. Much of it is up to
the head shed, the officers who lead us. SEAL officers are a real
mix. Some are good, some are bad. And some are just pussies.
Oh, they may be tough individuals, but it takes more than

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personal
toughness to be good leaders. The methods and goals
have to contribute to the toughness.
Our top command wanted us to achieve 100 percent success,
and to do it with 0 casualties. That may sound admirable—who
doesn’t want to succeed, and who wants anyone to get hurt? But in
war those are incompatible and unrealistic. If 100 percent success,
0 casualties are your goal, you’re going to conduct very few
operations. You will never take any risks, realistic or otherwise.
Ideally, we could have done sniper overwatches and undertaken
scouting missions for the Marines all around Nasiriya. We could
have been a much bigger part of the Marines’ drive. We might have
saved some of their lives.
We wanted to go out at night and hit the next big city or town
the Marine Corps was going to pass through. We’d soften the
target for them, killing off as many bad guys as we could. We did
do a few missions like that, but it was certainly a lot less than we
could have done.