The next few months were uneventful for Johnny, except for the occasional house-to-house search. All the while, the situation in Fallujah was getting more intense. The marines from 3/1 heard that they might be going over to help with fighting the insurgency, but they had to wait until after summer, when the temperature dropped.
By October 2004, Johnny and his unit had gotten the call to be part of Operation Phantom Fury. The offensive mission called for Marine and certain Army units to clear the Sunni stronghold. The men in Johnny’s unit were sick of the patrolling they had been doing for months and that they were frequently targeted with IEDs. To add to their frustration, the insurgents rarely dared face Johnny’s unit head-on, but this was marines’ time to get some payback.
Every marine in country wanted to be in the fight, and Johnny was no exception. Fallujah was said to be in complete control by insurgents, who declared that nobody would take it from them. By November that declaration was going to be put to the test.
Days before the operation, Johnny was retasked. His machine gun team was given a Humvee. Their new gun truck had two M240G light machine guns, and Johnny decided to use one for reserve. His truck was to operate in conjunction with another Humvee mounted with an MK-19 fully automatic grenade launcher. They would support each other while providing fire for the advancing infantry during the fight. Together, the supporting vehicles and the infantrymen prepared for the fight and rehearsed the action to come.
Inside the city, insurgents had plenty of time to prepare, as well. They had held the city for more than six months, with no U.S. patrols entering in. A few thousand enemy fighters organized ambush sites and prepared weapons and ammo caches, as well as booby traps. They promised to counterattack once the marines set foot in the city. They received warning from the marines, and by the time the attack began, the insurgents, not willing to fight to the death, were gone.
On November 8, 2004, U.S. forces began their assault. Johnny realized he was bound for heavy fighting when an Army Special Forces ODA team and a Navy SEAL team were attached to his company. That first morning, his battalion cleared the train station north of the city and waited for a breach on the railroad tracks by the Army’s Second Battalion, Seventh Cavalry. When the hole was made, marines advanced behind the armored cavalry.
The northern edge of the city had a cluster of buildings, roads, and small alleyways. Johnny was standing next to a friend in the turret when they moved in. They would be side by side through it all, Johnny with his M16, while the other marine gripped the machine gun. Insurgents weaved through buildings and alleys, waiting to attack. By the time Johnny entered the city, the fighting was intense.
His first contact came while moving into a narrow alleyway. Farther down, insurgents appeared and launched RPGs at the marines, who in return pressed toward them, weapons blazing. Johnny emptied a magazine, but with so many marines shooting, he could not tell if he had hit anyone. Surprisingly he had not been hit. Bullets sent sparks next to him.
In no time, the marines discovered the insurgents’ tactics. Their goal was to draw the marines’ fire in one direction using AKs and machine guns. It was a diversion for RPG gunners to fire their rockets from other directions. The marines countered using their vehicles to bound ahead of the infantry and hold security while the dismounts moved. Johnny’s truck and the others pushed forward and held in position, allowing the marines on the ground to catch up.
The farther the marines pushed, the more fierce the fighting felt. Once, Johnny engaged insurgents as close as fifty yards away. His M16 was more maneuverable than the M240G; he wounded the enemy and his gunner finished him off. Johnny could see and smell smoke, and gunpowder stained the air. In all the shooting, he could feel the heat from the barrel of his rifle. Once, he noticed a SAW gunner next to his truck dashing to a corner, but just as he was about to bypass the alley, he was fatally wounded. The marine was Johnny’s friend he had known since his time at the school of infantry. With death so close, Johnny used it as motivation to fight harder.
Hours into the fight, Johnny learned that most of the snipers in his battalion had been injured. The SEAL and Army ODA snipers were brought up in their place, and they began making quick work of insurgents in the open. From elevated positions, they were able to finish off wounded insurgents and eliminate others in the distance. In the heat of the battle, Johnny noticed an insurgent with a red head wrap run into the street.
“Is this guy serious?” thought Johnny, as the man fired in the open with a machine gun on his hip. His aim was horrible but his intent was obvious, and Johnny shot back, killing him. All around them, the marines were astounded by the fighting of insurgents. Reports of enemy fighters being drugged were true, and often, though severely wounded, the insurgents were able to drag themselves away before dying.
That day, death was closer to Johnny than he knew. While he was in the turret, RPGs narrowly missed him and the machine gunner. Once, Johnny was shooting, when the machine gunner next to him suddenly ducked into the Humvee.
“Get back on the gun!” Johnny yelled, noticing a plume of smoke close by.
The wide-eyed gunner stood up behind the machine gun and resumed fighting. Only later did he explain to Johnny that he had ducked because an RPG skipped off the turret’s deflection shield. Had it exploded, they would have both been dead.
By the end of that day, the marines had pushed up deep into Fallujah. Air support kept insurgents at bay, while U.S. snipers picked off others. Johnny’s company set up in defensive positions and found writings on walls.
“Your armored vehicles are just target practice for us,” the writings warned, implying that insurgents took pride in disabling and killing those inside vehicles. Unfortunately, that day the insurgents were able to destroy two M1 Abram tanks with RPGs.
Though the first few days were hairy, Johnny’s most memorable experience in Fallujah happened later. Near the end of the assault, as the marines cleared up the last pockets of resistance, two platoons became bogged down in a heavy fight near Johnny’s squad. His trucks were called for support and they raced to the scene.
When they arrived, they found one alley completely controlled by insurgents with machine guns and RPGs. No vehicles dared move down it.
Johnny’s squad dismounted to help suppress the alley. Usually AT-4s were reserved as anti-armor weapons, but in Fallujah they were great for breaching walls or hitting houses occupied by insurgents. The marines were out of rockets, but Johnny overheard someone asking if anyone knew how to use the RPGs found on the streets.
“I know how,” lied Johnny. He’d never fired the weapon before, but he had researched it online. His platoon commander gave him the thumbs-up, and he took a bundle of rockets into the alleyway. One marine opened with suppression fire and Johnny turned the corner to unload. He fired a few rockets, but was not able to see the impacts. The marine next to him said that he sent one directly into a window where insurgents had been spotted. Johnny’s rockets had stopped the enemy fire.
The platoon commander was impressed. He directed Johnny to fire on another nearby house filled with insurgents. Johnny and others charged the building and ran through its courtyard. When they entered the courtyard, a dead insurgent lay at their feet. He gripped a hand grenade and wore an American flak jacket with a chest harness full of AK magazines. It struck Johnny just how fanatical the man was about killing the marines. He fought to his dying breath, while still clutching a hand grenade that had no pin in it.
Johnny stepped over the man and moved to within feet of the front door. If anyone was behind the door, they were killed instantly when Johnny sent an RPG through it. The rocket also hit a fuel drum inside, igniting the entire building. Slowly fuel began to leak under the doorway, sparking a fire in the courtyard. Johnny and the others ran back to the squad, exhausted from the fighting.
The next day, the marines were near their final objective in the city. They had pushed all the way through and killed or captured most of the fighters, but they n
eeded to clear the last of a few buildings near their firm base. Johnny’s vehicle held security for infantrymen clearing houses. He trailed a squad of marines to a home outside the base. As soon as the marines entered, gunshots rang out. A SAW went off, answered by AK fire, followed by M16s. Johnny knew right away that the house was packed with insurgents and that the marines were in for a fight there.
Inside, the marines moved to clear the bottom floor. The point man spotted an insurgent squatting and shot him dead. Next, the point man entered another room and was met by another insurgent. The two exchanged fire from a close distance, and the marine was able to unload a long burst into the insurgent’s chest, causing his clothing to catch fire. Surprisingly, the insurgent was still able to crawl toward the marine before dying. When the lower floor had been cleared, the marines pressed upstairs. Unbeknownst to them, a group of insurgents had been alerted by the shooting and prepared a counterattack. When the marines made it onto the stairway, the insurgents opened fire with AKs, machine guns, and hand grenades.
A few marines were instantly injured. The insurgents had the advantage, pinning the marines inside and preventing anyone from entering through the doorways. Though injured, the marines crawled into rooms on the bottom level. First Sergeant Brad Kasal was one of the first marines to rush in and help, but he was instantly cut down. He pulled another marine into a room and held off the attackers while shielding his comrade from grenades with his own body.
Outside, insurgents dropped grenades from the second level, isolating the entrances. Johnny desperately wanted to help after learning about the casualties, but he could not attack the building and risk hitting his fellow marines inside. At first break, Johnny dashed inside and met up with other marines being held at bay next to a doorway. A dead insurgent lay feet way, his hands still gripping his AK. Johnny moved to the doorway and poked his head around the corner to glance into the next room.
A smoky haze smoldered in the room. Johnny saw injured marines on the ground and heard their faint calls for help. Suddenly, a burst of enemy fire blew toward him and bullets cracked inches from his face and hit the wall beside him. He would not do that again.
For the next half hour Johnny and the other marines exchanged fire with the insurgents from the doorway. They desperately wanted to evacuate the wounded, but there was no way to get into the room without being shot. Everyone feared that the marines would bleed to death, and the marine next to Johnny began to get desperate. He began to weave in and out of the doorway to fire on the insurgents, but he was playing with his life. Finally, the marine exposed himself for too long and was shot three times in the head. He died right there next to Johnny.
Finally another platoon arrived for backup. Johnny went outside to talk with the lieutenant. The lieutenant wanted to pressure the insurgents. He ran across an alley to get a better perspective on the second level and then began throwing grenades into the windows. Johnny went back inside and was putting fire through the doorway when a bullet grazed his knuckles.
The insurgents began to run low on ammo. Minutes later, firing from the insurgents’ position let up, allowing Johnny and another marine to run through the doorway into the other room. Inside, the other marine helped the wounded while Johnny held security. They did not want to risk moving the wounded through the doorways and yelled for a Humvee to move close. They attached a pulley to the security bars on the windows and the vehicle ripped them out. The opening allowed them to lift the wounded out of the house.
Meanwhile, other marines flooded the house as well. They were able to evacuate everyone from the bottom floor. Once outside, the marines threw a satchel charge into the house and destroyed the entire building. It caved in on itself, and Johnny saw blood spray from the explosion. When everything settled, Johnny persuaded the platoon commander to search the rubble. They scoured the dirt and concrete and came across a heavyset man, half-buried in rubble. He looked dead at first, but he started to move when the marines closed in. With one arm, he retrieved a grenade from his chest harness, pulled the pin, and rolled it in the direction of the marines.
Everyone scattered, but the grenade exploded next to the insurgent. Unbelievably, the man moved again, reaching for his chest harness. The entire platoon fired at him but did not stop him. The insurgent was definitely drugged. The platoon commander walked up to him and dumped fifteen rounds into his chest. Incredibly, he did not stop reaching for his chest harness. Johnny had had enough and finished him off with three thrusts from his bayonet.
When the battle was over, Johnny was thankful to be alive. Though they had won, it came at the price of the health and lives of many of his friends. He gained a new respect for the enemy, and it changed his outlook on their capabilities. He would never again underestimate their ability to adapt to U.S. tactics or their tenacity to fight to the death.
When he returned home from Fallujah, Johnny tried out for his battalion’s sniper platoon. The conditions were miserable, but he stuck it out and was selected along with seven others from sixty marines. He went on to do two deployments in the sniper platoon, the second being the deployment to the Lake Tharthar region.
After the second day of his trial, Johnny felt there was a good chance of the charges being dropped. Despite the media’s opinion, the testimonies of his teammates showed his true intentions. They all trusted and believed that he had done the right thing. The convening authority, a judge advocate general, considered that Johnny had been through the fiercest of fighting many times over and never lost his bearing, nor had he done anything questionable before. Johnny’s attorney knew that there was not enough conclusive evidence to push the case for a further trial.
The next day, Johnny’s dad called him and told him that the charges had been dropped. The judge concluded that the trial should have been handled at the battalion level, and after review by the First Marine Expeditionary Force general, he concluded that Johnny had acted with reasonable force. He recommended lesser charges, but did not dismiss the case entirely. It was dropped with prejudice, meaning that if further evidence was presented, the case could proceed.
Relieved, Johnny felt the ending was bittersweet. The least the command could have done was to call him and tell him the situation. It was somewhat disrespectful that he had to hear the results of the trial from his dad, who had heard the news over the radio. Regardless, the nightmare was finally over, and Johnny could do what he’d told the judge at the end of the trial:
“I’m eager to actually get back in the fight and serve my country.”
ELEVEN
COST OF WAR
WAR changes lives. Fighting, killing, and dying are experiences that those who live through them will never forget. For snipers, the battlefield and all it encompasses are witnessed at a magnified level. Every engagement, every kill and attack, is seen up close and personal, and the psychological trauma associated with this affects everyone in different ways. These days some snipers return from war only to fight a new battle at home in the form of an anxiety disorder known as Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD). As Marine Sniper Sergeant Byron Hancock knows, this disorder can be crippling, but it isn’t unbeatable.
The War
Byron was well prepared for combat. He joined the Marines in 1988 as an infantryman in the reserves. His uncle and grandfather were both marines, and being a proud Texan, Byron wanted to serve as one, also. When he began the school of infantry, one of his instructors had been a sniper, and when Byron showed interest, the instructor told him everything he knew about sniping. That set Bryon on a path to becoming a sniper himself.
As a weekend warrior, he checked into his unit, the First Battalion, Twenty-third Marines, a reserve battalion in Texas. Soon he was part of the sniper platoon, and when he had three months of free time, he was sent to sniper school in Quantico, Virginia. It was a tough class, but Byron graduated and became a hunter of gunmen in 1991. In the next ten years he stayed with the battalion, but he was on the verge of discharging when the events of 9/11 made him
reenlist. Three years later he was shipped to Iraq.
He arrived to the Al Anbar Province in 2004, well aware that as a sniper, he was going to face the insurgency. By then, his fourteen years of service made him the sniper platoon’s chief scout/sniper. Weeks after arriving, Byron began sniper operations, and a few months later he and his partner took part in Operation Phantom Fury in Fallujah.
In his civilian life, Byron was a cop. A peace officer, to be exact, and he patrolled the town of Bryant, Texas. His wife back home cared for their four kids; she was his high school sweetheart and he loved her more than anything. She was his reason to live through Iraq.
At thirty-four years old, Byron was significantly older than his partner, Flowers, who was in his early twenties. When they learned about Fallujah, they were excited at the possibility of action. The two of them joined Bravo Company and fell under Regimental Combat Team Seven. They were to hold the peninsula on the west side of the Euphrates River bordering Fallujah. The main force would clear the city while Byron’s element cleared the small villages on their side of the river to keep insurgents from escaping that way.
Once they reached Fallujah, Byron felt the intensity right away. For weapons, he had an M40A3 and a pistol. Some snipers might have wanted an M16, but Byron was comfortable with a pistol. As a nine-year veteran of the police force, he was an expert with it. His partner, Flowers, had an M16 with an M203 grenade launcher. The two of them were in direct support of Bravo Company. Their time there clung with Byron even long after leaving the country.
Gunfights broke out from the very beginning. IEDs hit patrols and mortars rained down on the marines for the first few days. It kept Byron on edge the entire time. Soon his unit began to take casualties, and it made Byron even more alert. He knew that if he let his guard down, he could die at any moment.
Hunters: U.S. Snipers in the War on Terror Page 20