Hunters: U.S. Snipers in the War on Terror

by Milo S. Afong

  With a quick search, Santos couldn’t find the man who ran off. The lucky bastard had made it into defilade, and Santos turned his attention to the car.

  “Get on line,” said Adam, realizing that the car was going to drive right below them. When they heard that, the team each grabbed a weapon and waited for the car to close in. Steven reached for his M16 with the M203 attached; he wanted to stop the car with a grenade. Adam grabbed an M16, as did Anthony, while Santos used the M40A3, figuring that if the car got past them, he’d try and put a shot into the back windshield.

  The road was a straightaway, allowing the driver to go as fast as he could. Right when the car reached the hill, the marines opened up, but hitting the car was like trying to shoot a flying bird. Adam and Anthony unloaded two magazines apiece, while Steve lobbed grenades. Santos fired once, but the scoped rifle wasn’t the weapon of choice. Unsurprisingly, the car made it through a gauntlet of fire and drove off.

  When the dust cleared, the snipers were disappointed that they hadn’t stopped the men. They reported the incident and headed for extract, and within the hour a MAP squad made it to the intersection. There they found two 120mm artillery rounds chained together, forming what the marines knew as a daisy-chained IED. If used correctly, it could have hit two or more vehicles at once. When the snipers learned of this, they were partly satisfied, but Santos wasn’t completely satisfied until later in the week when he helped kill the insurgents emplacing the IEDs.

  Four nights later, Santos and Steve were back, this time with two other snipers. Instead of the hilltop eight hundred meters away, they were now 320 meters (a thousand feet) from the intersection. When they inserted, they spent the entire night digging into a small mound of dirt, and by morning, they were buried in the mound with desert camouflage netting covering them. The team was undetectable to the naked eye.

  The next day was filled with more observing. When it came time for Santos to watch, he rolled over behind the .50-cal. Two holes had been made to observe from, one for the .50, and the other for the M40A3 used by Kevin, the other team leader. Santos had only been on watch for fifteen minutes when a van neared the intersection. It slowed to cross the road, but after it did, it made a U-turn and crossed again. It turned around once more, but this time it stopped on the road.

  “Get them up, we’ve got something here,” Santos told Steve, who was monitoring the radio. The two other snipers were resting.

  Within seconds the van door opened and two men climbed out. One had an AK, the other two green mines like the ones the marines had found before.

  “We’ve got targets,” said Santos.

  Steve kicked the others awake and explained the situation. Their preformed plan was for the SASR and the SAW to stop the vehicle while the others dropped the men. When Santos saw the weapons and explosives, he transitioned back to the van and prepared to shoot.

  The vehicle wasn’t like most American-made vans, where the engine block sits in the front. It was similar to a Volkswagen bus, where the engine is between the driver and passenger. Knowing that, Santos aimed at the lower section of the driver’s door; his MK-211 green-tipped Raufoss rounds would easily penetrate the door and send a secondary bullet through to the engine. In the seconds that he waited for the other snipers to prepare, Santos pulled the SASR tightly in to his shoulder; the next few minutes would seem like a lifetime.

  The snipers had neither the time nor the instinct to put in hearing protection. By the time the marines were ready, the two men had made it to a hole, while the driver of the van watched. They had no clue that the snipers were little more than three football fields away.

  Santos opened fire, hitting his mark. The .50-cal resounded in their small hide, causing everyone’s ears to ring in pain, but Santos didn’t let up. Another shot made the driver reverse at full speed, while the men outside stood surprised by the ambush.

  By now Kevin put his M40A3 to use. Confused, the insurgent with the AK fired in the team’s direction but with no precision; Kevin lined him up and fired a shot dead center into his chest. Steven was on the radio calling for the quick reaction force while Victor raked the van with his SAW. He and Santos caused the driver to fumble, and he drove off an embankment and slightly out of sight.

  After five shots with the SASR, Santos couldn’t take the pain. He used his left hand to close his ear while shooting. The others felt it as well, and Santos couldn’t help but laugh when another marine let out a whimper after each of his shots.

  With the van out of sight, he and Victor aimed for the man with the mines. He dropped them and ran on the road from left to right. Victor sent a burst in his direction and hit the man, causing him to face the marines. That gave Santos a perfect view, and he aimed for the man’s chest, but the man staggered from Victor’s bullet. When Santos squeezed the trigger, he clipped the man’s side, next to his stomach, causing a gaping wound under his rib cage. From the shot, the man fell on his face and died.

  The last man, the driver, was out of the van and running for his life. Luckily for him, he was on the other side of the road and only his head was exposed. Santos watched it bobbing up and down while he ran and fired a few times but missed. After a minute, the snipers saw that the man was running for another vehicle in the distance, six hundred meters away. Only the back of the car was exposed, and Santos put his crosshairs on the rear windshield behind where the driver would be. One shot shattered the rear windshield, and Santos had to change magazines. Steve launched a few inaccurate grenades, and the driver of the van limped across the road safely and got into the back passenger seat, allowing the car to speed away.

  Twenty minutes later, the quick reaction force arrived. The snipers met the men at the road and inspected the damage. Kevin had shot his target in the heart, and he was barely breathing when the marines walked up. Santos kicked him in the head as he died. The other man, whom Victor and Santos had shot, lay on his face in the middle of the road. The side of his stomach was missing, from the SASR, leaving parts of his guts on the road, while 5.56mm holes from the SAW riddled his chest.

  Such stories are not abnormal coming from snipers who have operated in Iraq. Since the beginning of the war, and all across the country, military snipers have earned their stay among the best and most utilized weapons among Coalition Forces, but as of July 2009 the withdrawal of U.S. troops from Iraq’s major cities marked the end of fighting for most snipers. However, the road to the finish was a hard one, and the lessons learned were paid with blood.

  The combat environment in Iraq has transformed in the past seven years. In 2003, the invasion demanded speed and flexibility. Mobility kept snipers successful, but immediately following, when the war shifted to insurgency, snipers needed patience and stealth. To be effective, snipers required preparation, knowledge, patience, and timing. Beyond all else, snipers understood that a conniving enemy using unorthodox tactics awaited them on the battlefield.

  Aside from weather and restrictions, terrorists groups are indeed the main enemy in Iraq. These groups make up several factions, each maintaining different ideals, and abide by certain rules of fighting unique to each group’s intent. In Iraq, these groups vary from region to region, and by sects of religion. Al-Qaeda in Iraq is one of the more well-known groups, which is mostly formed by foreign fighters. Sunni and Shia groups also operate against Coalition Forces and most often keep to their local communities. Throughout Iraq, U.S. snipers have faced these fighters and have learned of their tactics.

  Many of the groups have learned and utilized the same tactics against the Coalition. The most basic and effective has been the used of IEDs, ranging from vehicle-borne suicide bombers willing to kill themselves with vehicles packed with explosives, to insurgents planting bombs on the side of the roads. With patience and precision, snipers have been lethal in countering such methods.

  Intimidation has also been effective for terrorists. Killings, kidnappings, mass bombings, and assassinations have threatened civilians and Iraqi soldiers and prevented t
hem from helping Coalition Forces. For snipers, timing and preparation have been effective tools to prevent such methods.

  The combat environment in Iraq also plays a part in sniper operations. Many have reported the differences and lessons learned between Afghanistan and Iraq. In Afghanistan, much of the fighting takes place in rural areas and open landscapes. There, snipers must always consider the sun’s position for building hides and patrolling. Keeping to the shadows is a must, because once they are exposed, enemy contact is highly likely. Snipers have also learned that in Afghanistan, the enemy fights to keep his ground.

  Iraq has posed different threats. Highly populated areas present obvious barriers for snipers. Remaining undetected can be difficult, which is why snipers move almost strictly at night. Urban areas also make it hard for snipers to hide entire teams, but many tactics can be used to counter this threat.

  Overall, Iraq has shaped the way that the U.S. military prepares and uses snipers. It has been a place of hard lessons, and great successes. It is also a war zone that has presented incredible stories of snipers in combat.

  SEVEN

  REDEMPTION

  BRAVADO and pretension aside, snipers tiptoe a fine line between life and death in the form of success and failure. Finding the enemy, or being found by the enemy, depends heavily on a few factors. Thousands of hours of training and preparation combined with extraordinary standards guide snipers toward success, but unfortunately in war, men make mistakes. In Ar Ramadi, Iraq, 2004, one incident showed that mistakes are paid for in lives. This event, as painful as it was for Marine snipers, gave a bitter lesson in death, but later it provided a remarkable example of redemption.

  By the summer of 2004, combat action ribbons were guaranteed in Ramadi. The Second Battalion Fourth Marines had taken over the capital of the Al Anbar Province earlier that year and immediately traded blows with relentless insurgents and anti-Coalition fighters. For months the “Magnificent Bastards” had battled the enemy from the streets, rooftops, bases, and anywhere else the enemy dared meet them.

  In that time, the battalion’s snipers proved to be a hot commodity, worth their weight in gold. They had disposed of countless IED planters, repelled attacks, and survived brazen bombing. One team, though, Headhunter Two, led by resilient sniper Sergeant Santiago, cheated death repeatedly. These men braved the most firefights and hairiest engagements of all the teams in the city. Their luck soon turned, however.

  By summer the team had hit a crossroad. They lived alongside Echo Company, deep inside Ramadi, at a small operating base known as Combat Outpost. Its location allowed insurgents to pester the marines with small arms fire and RPGs. In addition, that month, daily mortar attacks peppered the outpost. The marines pinpointed the enemy’s firing locations with counter-mortar technology, and once a pattern was established, Sergeant Santiago’s team was dispatched to eliminate the perpetrators of their grief.

  Preventing IEDs on Route Michigan, the city’s main road, had been their regular assignment. The new mission was a much needed change of pace, but when Santiago received the brief, he realized a problem. The command also wanted his team to resume IED prevention, meaning that unfortunately for Santiago, he needed to split his team. This was a decision he would never forget.

  Though he had divided his team before, this time was different. He wanted two of his teammates for the counter-mortar mission, leaving the last member in charge of three infantrymen to make up a four-man IED prevention team. He left Tommy in charge. While Tommy was not a HOG, he had plenty of sniper operations under his belt, and he had Santiago’s full confidence. The problem was that Tommy was not pleased. Normally snipers do not allow untrained men to fill the roles on a sniper team, but with a thin platoon, they had no choice in this instance. Even though the marines filling in had experience on observation missions, Tommy was left bitter about the situation.

  His disappointment came with good reason. On the IED missions in Ramadi, the snipers used one rooftop the entire time and were not allowed to move positions even after being compromised. Santiago argued that this practice directly contradicted sniper doctrine, but the command’s larger perspective called for the snipers to stay put because they filled a vital gap in the line of observation positions along Route Michigan. Tommy feared an inevitable attack if they continued with the same position. Nevertheless, in the Corps, mission has priority, and though Tommy didn’t want to go, it had to be done.

  Early on June 21, Santiago and Tommy prepared for their missions. It was Santiago’s birthday, and his team shared pound cake from an MRE before leaving. Everyone enjoyed some, except Tommy. He was still sulking about the situation. Santiago wanted to cheer him up, but let him have his space.

  Under darkness, the teams crept quietly through the city. Within hours they were in their respective positions. Santiago led Headhunter Two Alpha, and he monitored the radio from a building close to where the mortar men were suspected to be.

  A few hundred yards away, Tommy, leading Headhunter Two Bravo, reached his building and started observation. With everyone using the same radio frequency, the teams sent radio checks to the battalion, as was the operating procedure.

  Everything went as planned, but after sunrise Tommy’s team had not made a radio check. Santiago noticed, as did the battalion, who tried reaching them, but with no answer. The problem could have been a number of things. No communications usually meant someone was not paying attention or that the radio had gone down. Usually it was the latter, but either way, as the team leader, it annoyed Santiago. He didn’t want his snipers to get a bad reputation. He figured it to be only a matter of time before the team made contact, but when Tommy did not respond over his handheld radio, which only the snipers used, Santiago began to worry.

  Within hours Echo Company diverted a nearby foot patrol to Tommy’s position. Around 11:30 A.M. on June 22, Santiago and his team heard a devastating radio transmission.

  “We need a corpsman here!” someone exclaimed.

  “We have four marines, KIA!”

  Over the radio, they learned that Tommy and his team were dead.

  At first Santiago doubted his ears. The news did not seem right, but tears filled his eyes as the truth dawned on him. His teammates were shocked, wondering how it could have happened. They were unaware of the gruesome scene on Tommy’s rooftop.

  One marine had multiple gunshot wounds, while the others had been shot in the head; one also had had his throat cut. Tommy was found in the fetal position, wearing no body armor or boots; the marine near him lay on his side, covered in a mosquito netting to fend off the bugs. They were believed to have been resting, normal for the team members not designated on watch. The marine with the most wounds, a corporal who had survived other bloody attacks, had gunshot holes in his hands, signaling a defensive struggle. Another marine lay on his back, also appearing to have put up a fight. Everyone who knew him knew that he carried four throwing knives, and one was missing. The walls around them had bullet holes, and their gear, the radio, thermal devices, weapons, ammunition, and other equipment were missing, including the prized M40A1 sniper rifle.

  The loss was unimaginable, but so were the circumstances surrounding the event. How could four marines be killed without hurting even one of their attackers? Had the marines all been asleep? Did it matter that none of them were actual school-trained snipers? These questions and more were answered after Naval Criminal Investigative Service completed a thorough investigation.

  The attack was planned. Intercepted cell phone traffic indicated that the enemy had asked permission to “do these marines.” Sometime after sunrise, four attackers made their way onto the roof. Santiago believes that they could have been posing as construction workers, because usually the marines placed a metal guard against the door to the roof to alert them of any invaders, whom they would have surely met with gunfire. Sometimes, though, they allowed workers to pass through to get to their site. He also suspected that the men used suppressed weapons, as not one Marine un
it had heard gunshots. Santiago’s team was a few hundred yards away, and Combat Outpost was eight hundred yards away.

  The loss severely wounded Santiago. Though others blamed Tommy for the outcome, as the team leader, Santiago felt responsible for it all. Survivor’s guilt and heartache consumed and changed him. For the rest of his time in Iraq, he wasn’t completely normal, willing to die rather than let another one of his marines get injured. Even later, when a form of redemption was brought about by a fellow Marine sniper, he still would not be able to live it down.

  Within the next two years grainy footage of insurgent marksmen began to surface. An enemy sniper calling himself Juba or the Baghdad Sniper posted Internet videos of his attacks on U.S. and Iraqi troops. The footage showed a series of individuals being tracked and shot by the sniper, who was not shy about his allegiance to the Islamic Army in Iraq, an extremely brutal band of terrorists responsible for beheadings and killings of journalists and civilians. The sniper acted on behalf of this group, whose main focus was combating foreigners in Iraq, especially the U.S.-led coalition.

  Dark Horse Sniper

  In California, Marine snipers became aware of the videos. Any chance to learn about the enemy without facing them was a treat. If this Juba was stupid enough to show his methods, the snipers would take full advantage.

  One Marine sniper watching was Sergeant AJ Pasciuti. He, just like other snipers preparing for Iraq, wanted to see what he was up against. His team examined Juba’s videos and noticed a few common factors.

  Juba’s tactics were simple and seemingly effective, but his target range was not exceptional. In all of the clips, as the sniper fired his weapon, the camera jumped, implying that he shot from a confined area. The Marine team noticed that often the camera moved away from the scene after the shooting, leading them to believe the sniper was shooting from vehicles. Pasciuti also noticed something peculiar but kept it to himself. In one scene the sniper waved a Browning high-powered .45-caliber pistol in the air. The Browning was a very uncommon weapon in Iraq, especially in the hands of an insurgent.