After surviving four harrowing tours in Iraq and earning a fearsome reputation as the most lethal sniper in U.S. military history, Navy SEAL Chris Kyle was killed not in combat, but on American soil — by the very man he was trying to save.
Kyle, 38, known as the “American Sniper,” was tragically shot and killed alongside his close friend Chad Littlefield at a Texas shooting range by 25-year-old Eddie Ray Routh, a fellow veteran battling severe PTSD and mental illness.
With 160 confirmed kills, Kyle’s battlefield legend became immortalized in his bestselling memoir and later a Hollywood film. But those closest to him knew his true mission didn’t end when he put down his rifle. He dedicated his post-military life to helping fellow service members navigate the silent war of trauma and reintegration.
On that fateful day, Kyle had invited Routh out in hopes that the therapeutic routine of the range might offer comfort — a practice Kyle often used to connect with and help struggling vets.
But texts between Kyle and Littlefield during the ride there showed rising alarm.
“This dude is straight up nuts,” Kyle wrote.
“Watch my six,” Littlefield replied.
Moments later, that instinct proved tragically right. Routh opened fire, shooting both men multiple times in what would become one of the most heartbreaking chapters in veteran mental health history.
In a chilling police confession, Routh claimed he believed Kyle and Littlefield were not human — that Kyle might have been Dracula. His delusions, paranoia, and untreated trauma had taken full control.
The nation mourned the loss of a hero. Chris Kyle was more than a sniper — he was a father, husband, mentor, and advocate. Posthumously, he was honored for his service, and his legacy continues through the Chris Kyle Frog Foundation, which supports veterans and their families.
Yet his tragic death sparked urgent conversations about the deep, often invisible wounds veterans carry. How many suffer in silence? How many walk among us fighting battles no one sees?
Chris Kyle died trying to help someone make it through the darkness. The war followed him home — and took him there.
May his sacrifice be a call not only to honor but to act