The Reaper: Autobiography of One of the Deadliest Special Ops Snipers (30 page)

Reality is different. I got home and the bed was now up against a different wall. The TV was not in the same spot. I was about to lose it and start screaming, but I had to check myself. That kind of aggression, as if someone in the platoon had messed with my weapon and not put things back where they were, would be okay over there. Not here. Things can’t be exactly as I left them or as I want them to be.

He’s
not welcome in this house, but
you
are.

It didn’t take me long to realize that I no longer wanted to be welcome in the army. Going out intact and on top was as good a way as any to end things. Still, the competitive fires were smoldering. I got a call from sniper section and was asked to represent the Rangers in the International Sniper Competition. I was honored to do it. I finished fourth out of sixty-three and had a great time. That got me thinking that this army life wasn’t so bad. I should just re-up for four more. Jessica said that I should do whatever made me happy and she’d support me.

I thought more about it. I thought back to that kid who had told his recruiter to sign him up for thirty years. He was naïve, obviously, and really gung ho. That’s a potent combination. I had no real frame of reference. What did thirty years really mean when you’ve only been on the planet for seventeen? That concept just doesn’t even fit in your still developing brain.

Ultimately, despite all the things the army was willing to do to keep me around, I left. March 10, 2010, was a very fun and very scary day. I didn’t have anything planned for my future. For so long, all I knew and thought about was a career in the military. As a sniper, I was used to planning and executing and taking in intel and making choices. I didn’t want to be subject to a rigid schedule anymore. I needed some time and space to figure out what was going to come next. Right then, I was tired of looking through a scope and targeting things. I wanted to take in the bigger picture—find out who else and what else I could be on my own.

(All photos courtesy of the author)

Me with an SPR (5.56 77gr.) in Jalalabad Afghanistan as the platoon’s designated marksman. 2007

Jalalabad Afghanistan squad-designated marksman. 2007

Me with Pemberton brushing up on our high-angle long-range shooting. 2008

Back after an overwatch and surveillance position during a platoon exercise. 2008

Practicing long-range shooting, standing with the .300 Win Mag. 2008

After an intense firefight and night raid in Afghanistan Helmand province. 2009

We had just got word we were working with RECCE. Pemberton and I working on spotter/sniper drills with my SR-25. 2009

Pemberton and me overwatching the Marines as they began entry into the village. 2009

Watching a Taliban target more than 700 yards away and prepping to take the shot. 2009

Pemberton on the roof with me overwatching the Marines. We had been without sleep for days at this point. 2009

After taking out the Taliban target and making sure the Marines exfil was successful, Pemberton (REECE) and me. It was a worthy picture moment. 2009