“These guys are close,” he thought and threw a grenade into the alley. More insurgents appeared below them, and the soldiers tried pushing them back with more grenades.
“Allah Akbar!” yelled insurgents from a building across the street. They also threw grenades back at the soldiers and peppered them with AKs. They began calling reinforcements, hoping to close with the soldiers.
The soldiers yelled back, unintimidated. They pinpointed the main building from which the insurgents regrouped. It was 75 meters (250 feet) away. With air on station, they dropped a five-hundred-pound bomb onto the building. The concussion rocked the neighborhood. Peeples went deaf for a second as debris rained down on his rooftop. When the dust cleared, a few insurgents crawled from the rubble still yelling, but they were easy targets.
The bomb gave the soldiers time to regroup. They were almost out of ammo, nobody had grenades, the SAW had no bullets, everyone was down to his last magazine of 5.56mm, and the machine gun had only a hundred rounds left. Fortunately for them, the soldiers in the rear assembled resupply pallets with ready loaded magazines, grenades, AT-4s (a light, anti-tank rocket), and machine gun ammo. Bradleys carried the crates to their building and arrived just before the fighting resumed.
The insurgents also regrouped. They pushed toward the soldiers in all directions, which transformed the machine gunner into a savage. He fired so much that his gun barrel turned red. The insurgents took a nearby building and positioned their machine guns from it, giving other fighters covering fire. The squad leader, realizing the situation, tore into the building with an AT-4, but though it was hit, gunfire still came from the house. Peeples grabbed another AT-4 and was so excited that he forgot to put the shoulder strap on correctly. When he fired, the launcher hit him in the face. Thankfully, in the darkness nobody had seen it. Unbelievably, the shooting did not cease, but a third and final rocket from the squad leader did the trick.
Soon, the soldiers noticed something peculiar. Every so often a loud shot, undeniably a sniper rifle, fired on them. The enemy sniper caught the attention of Peeples, and he made it his personal mission to find him. Peeples took his sniper rifle, used his PEQ-2 infrared laser, and flooded the windows he suspected the sniper was firing from. He had not heard the shot in some time, when out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a muzzle flash.
He scanned that area. Less than a hundred meters away, Peeples lit up an empty building with his beam. He saw a small circular glimmer of light, which was a reflection off the enemy sniper’s scope. Peeples focused in and found the sniper sitting behind a table with his rifle resting uon it. The enemy sniper was clueless that he had been compromised. Peeples quickly aimed at his face and instantly killed the other sniper. It was the kind of shot that every sniper dreams of.
Soon the fighting spiked once more. The insurgents would not quit, but neither did the soldiers. Though he could not see him, Peeples heard Stout directing the machine gunner onto targets, followed by the sound of bullets penetrating flesh. He was glad to be next to these soldiers. They all held under fire with no sign of letting up. The fight started at 1900 and trailed off around 0300 the next morning. By sunrise half of the barrier wall had been erected and Peeples and Stout were taken back to base to debrief.
“You and Stout have been out for seventy-two hours. I know you want to go, but I’m keeping you here,” said the company commander. He was proud of the snipers’ actions, but he knew that they needed the rest.
Peeples and Stout looked like hell. They had not slept a wink the entire time and eaten only a small bit, and they had blood, sweat, and dirt caked all over. That night, after a hot shower and chow, Peeples fell fast asleep. The next day the wall was fully erected and Operation Murfreesboro was considered a success. Peeples was glad to have helped, but he was even more happy that the mission was over. He could not believe that with all the fighting, he had made it through intact.
Two weeks later, Peeples took R&R. He flew out of country and out of the war zone. It was just what he needed after all the action that he had seen. At first, he had to adjust to not having a weapon or being on guard the whole time. Though it was a break, he could not shake the thought of going back. He still had six more months to go, and if they were anything like the first six, he would have a lot more killing to do.
After a month, Peeples flew back. Instead of the war zone that he had left with death at every turn, he arrived to the Anbar Awakening. In the time he had been gone, the tribes of the Al-Anbar Province had finally become fed up with al-Qaeda in Iraq and their devious tactics. Al-Qaeda’s horrendous disregard for innocent lives pushed tribal leaders to side with the Coalition and defend their territory, and the result was staggering.
In his next six months the fighting was minimal. Peeples heard of only a few IEDs and no sorts of attacks of any kind. As a result, his team did not run any more sniper missions. It had gone from hell to heaven in one month.
In the end, Peeples learned much about sniping from his two combat tours. The biggest lesson was tactical patience. By using their heads, along with patience and good training, Peeples’s team had been tremendously successful.
NINE
DUAL DEPLOYMENTS II
U.S. Army sniper Stan C. appreciated being home after Afghanistan. He had survived a helicopter crash and the fighting of Operation Anaconda in 2002, and now, being stateside on R&R, he could make do on his foxhole promises and be more friendly and enjoy time with others. He spent time with his family and friends, but sadly, the few weeks of recreation quickly withered. When Stan reported back to his unit, they began another cycle of predeployment training. Whispers among the battalion hinted at a war in Iraq, and Stan’s unit would be involved.
First, though, Stan went to the U.S. Army sniper school at Fort Benning, Georgia. The school allowed his platoon three slots, and Stan was included. He and the other soldiers desperately needed to pass after their platoon sergeant stated that if they failed, they had no place in the platoon.
Stan and the two others arrived on the first day and dodged a bullet. After they had checked in, the instructors informed them that they could not attend because there was no room. Stan thought that his days as a sniper were over, until the instructors called roll and found that three others soldiers had not shown up. Knowing that Stan and the others had just returned from Afghanistan, the instructors cut them some slack and let them in.
Going through sniper school after having been in combat might seem like nonsense to some, but Stan enjoyed it. The more knowledge he gained, the deadlier he would be. School flew by, and Stan already knew the curriculum. Other students asked Stan about his time in combat, and he explained that he had not used his rifle that much but hoped to change that during his next combat tour.
After eight weeks, the three soldiers returned to their unit as certified snipers. The buzz among the battalion was still about a war with Iraq. It was definite now, but the soldiers had to wait until they were directed to deploy. Until then, the snipers would shoot, pack, and inspect their inventory while bearing the “hurry up and wait” mentality. Finally, though, in early 2003, the unit was on the move.
The 101st Airborne Division began shipping equipment to the Middle East in February 2003. Blackhawk, Apache, Kiowa, and Chinook helicopters, along with land-based vehicles and equipment, were sent for Operation Iraqi Freedom. By March, the 101st, capable of deploying infantry air assault and housing two aviation brigades, was fully equipped and ready for war.
In Kuwait, Stan’s unit was sent to Camp New Jersey. It sat twenty-one miles southeast of Iraq, surrounded by nothing but sand. Everyone settled in and waited for the war to start, and in the meantime, more training was advised. Stan’s team ran contact drills mimicking firefights, to instill instant reactions. They patrolled the perimeter with heavy packs to gain leg strength and to fine-tune their weapons, shooting their sniper rifles at every chance.
Morale was high among the soldiers in the battalion. Under the V Corps, the U.S. Army’s s
pearhead and main element for the attack, the soldiers knew that they were making history. First Afghanistan and now Iraq, and the talk of fighting brought comparisons between the two war zones. The soldiers had gone toe-to-toe with the Taliban and al-Qaeda, and they were tough. From everything that was said, it looked as though fighting the Iraqis would be nothing compared to the enemy in Afghanistan, but they would have to wait and see.
Stan was anxious to get started. His new spotter, Steve, was also a veteran of Afghanistan. They pushed each other to get better as snipers and talked over every possible combat scenario. The longer they waited, the more Stan thought about combat. This war would not be a cakewalk, and Stan felt a healthy mix of fear and excitement. He figured, though, that it could not be any tougher than his last deployment.
Finally, for the snipers, the training and boredom came to an end. One day, Stan sat talking with Steve in his tent. With painted weapons and stuffed packs, there was nothing left to do but wait for the call to move out. Suddenly, their platoon commander walked into the tent.
“OK, boys, this is it. Break down everything and get it packed up. Be ready, because in the next twelve hours we are crossing the border.”
Stan shot Steve a look of excitement and they quickly snapped to the order. A familiar feeling of butterflies settled in Stan’s stomach. He and the others positioned their necessary gear and left everything else in a pile near the center of the camp. Stan’s team supported Alpha Company, and Stan met the company commander at their staging area. They discussed how the sniper team would be used, and it was determined that while the company moved, the snipers would be guardian angels providing over-watch. If needed, they could conduct conventional sniper missions as well.
That evening the men enjoyed a final night of good sleep. The next day, Stan and Steve were up early when suddenly sirens sounded in the camp. They indicated a missile attack. When he heard the noise, Stan reached for the gas mask strapped to his hip and had it on in ten seconds. Nearby, Patriot missile batteries launched to intercept the incoming Scuds.
The attack brought apprehension. The Taliban had not used Scuds. Stan began contemplating what they were up against, and a few hours later the order to cross the border was given.
Al Anbar
Marine sniper Josh Rush returned from Afghanistan ready for another shot at sniper school. He had failed the first time during land navigation, but navigating the mountains of Afghanistan had given him the experience needed. Shortly after returning to Kaneohe Bay, Hawaii, Rush checked in to the Third Marine Division sniper school once again. Combat operations taught him what he needed to pass sniper school, and ten weeks later, Rush was a certified sniper.
His platoon from Second Battalion, Third Marines dwindled after Afghanistan. Senior snipers discharged, leaving room for the junior marines to step up. Rush soon became a team leader responsible for three others. Evers assumed the role of platoon sergeant, chief scout/sniper, and First Team leader, but his acceptance to a position at sniper school left Rush to fulfill the duties. Rush had his hands full, especially because his battalion was deploying to Iraq.
Rush’s platoon underwent predeployment training. They tailored their tactics to urban environments and for IED prevention, completely different from what they had faced in Afghanistan. Sniper school and other reports taught the snipers that their major challenge in Iraq would be stopping IEDs. The sophisticated manner in which the insurgents employed the bombs called for a very basic and fundamental element to prevent them—an element that snipers learn from the beginning of their training: observation.
Before leaving, Rush learned of his new area of operations. His battalion would cover Haditha, Haqlaniyah, and Barwana, the three towns making up the Haditha Triad in the Al Anbar Province of western Iraq. When he learned that, Rush knew right then that it would be dangerous. Previous fighting between Coalition Forces and insurgents was well broadcasted there. More importantly, Rush knew that in the area, an entire six-man sniper team had been killed. The incident forced many sniper platoons to reexamine their employment and tactics. It was also a warning that snipers in Haditha needed to be ever wary.
A year earlier the Third Battalion, Twenty-fifth Marines were stationed in Haditha. Security and stabilization operations had brought the Ohio-based reserve unit to Iraq, and they were anxious to fight. Insurgent groups operating in the area quickly met the marines. The snipers passed the time running counter-IED, reconnaissance, observation, and surveillance missions. Teams were successful at stopping IEDs in certain areas, but as the end of their time in Iraq approached, their base was routinely harassed by rocket and mortar fire. After one occasion, sniper teams were sent on a mission to observe the suspected firing locations.
During the operation, something went terribly wrong. The six-man team was inserted by vehicle near their objective. Another team was sent to observe elsewhere, only three kilometers away. According to Ansar al-Sunnah, a terrorist group operating in the region, the mortar and rocket fire upon their base was bait for the snipers, drawing them into the area. Once there, the snipers were ambushed and killed. It is not known whether or not the marines were set up or exactly how the insurgents were able to get close to the snipers without drawing fire. The fact still remained that insurgents were aware of snipers and how to manipulate their operations.
For Rush, the event reinforced his need for stealth. He knew that in Iraq, the enemy was not to be taken lightly.
The Push
A massive convoy of vehicles flooded a makeshift road into Iraq. The movement caused fine, white, powdered sand to cover everyone and everything. It clung to Stan’s entire body and gear. Unfazed, Stan was fi xed on fighting and surviving. He had no clue what his time in Iraq would present.
After a day of traveling, the soldiers stopped west of Basra. No enemy contact had been made yet, but reports indicated that enemy armored units were in the area, possibly to stage an attack on the soldiers. The company commander unleashed Stan’s team and others for long-range reconnaissance. For a week, Stan carried his M24 sniper rifle beside him in the Humvee in which he scouted the area, but there was no sign of the enemy. His unit was tasked with an air assault into Hillah.
Al-Hillah was the central city of the Babil Province. At the time it supposedly hid hundreds of enemy fighters. Saddam’s elite Republican Guard were the troops there, and Stan’s unit entered the city.
The city was also empty of fighters. Stan climbed into a building and found a great position to cover the others patrolling. In the room, he found two shell casings the same size as the ones used by his sniper rifle. When he checked the bottom, he saw that they were American made. He wanted to use his own bullets, but hours passed before his unit moved on. While leaving, they were allowed to ditch the heavy chemical-protective suits. The relief was felt by everyone.
Shortly thereafter, the soldiers flew into Saddam International Airport. Stan’s team arrived by helicopter and positioned themselves in the terminal to observe the city. The airport had already been secured by the Third Infantry Division, but firefights continued throughout Baghdad. Later, his unit entered deeper into the city, on their way to the Ministry of Finance building.
Charlie Company took the lead and Stan’s sniper team accompanied them. Other U.S. military units waved as they passed, and civilians did as well. The idea of being downtown Baghdad was exciting. Granted this was not a vacation, but Stan still appreciated being there.
The soldiers reached the eighteen-story building at night. Levels 14 through 16 were still on fire from looters and bombings. Regardless, the structure was made for sniping. Possible hide sites were unlimited. Countless windows were built into the two identical wings that formed the building.
Stan knew what to do. Inside, he moved positions on different levels throughout the day, and at night they moved to the roof. Up top, a chest-high wall allowed the snipers to stay concealed while they used night vision to observe. At night, staring at the thousands of city lights, Stan contemplate
d the differences between here and where he had been. In Afghanistan, he never entered the cities, only the mountains. There, often his team was alone, with nobody around for miles. In Baghdad, he was in a city with millions. The change was drastic.
At their new location, the soldiers had a fairly easy task. A nearby suburb housed members of Fedayeen Saddam, a group of volunteer citizen fighters loyal to Saddam Hussein. To catch them, rifle platoon squads held checkpoints on the roads while the snipers covered them. The snipers found that an overpass spanned horizontally between them and the neighborhood. Below that, another road led straight from the snipers’ building into the neighborhood, connecting with multiple side roads and intersections.
In the building, the snipers created a system for operations. By now, Stan and Steve were accompanied by two fellow snipers. One soldier was able to rest while the others traded spotting, monitoring the radio, and manning the sniper rifle. Below them, Charlie Company soldiers spread out to different locations, some holding the bottom floor.
Within the week, Stan made his first kill behind a sniper rifle. Papers and other materials littered their second-story hide. Stan’s M24 lay on his pack and rested in his shoulder. In the middle of the day, a green car passed Stan’s position. He noticed it, but he was focused on the neighborhood in the distance. Suddenly, from the car, shots rang out. A man leaned from the passenger window aiming at a Charlie Company checkpoint.
“My dope is at 300,” Stan reminded himself. He was not about to let the men get away.
No time to waste by adjusting his scope. The car was speeding in the opposite direction, and Stan briefly noticed the passenger’s rifle barrel dangling from the window. He estimated that the car was past three hundred meters and he placed the center of his crosshairs just high, above the passenger. The shot broke the silence in his building.
As habit, Stan chambered another round while the recoil ceased. He saw the back windshield shatter, and the barrel of the AK, which had been sticking slightly from the passenger window, slumped. The passenger jerked forward, and seconds later the car drifted to a halt.
Hunters: U.S. Snipers in the War on Terror Page 16