by Chris Martin
“I never knew that a Little Bird could fly that fast. You’re just hanging outside the aircraft. Like ‘holy shit.’
“We got to the target area just as the assault elements were rolling up in their Humvees. We pulled security over the objective, watching specifically for anyone running up on the objective or maneuvering on our guys while they captured the HVT on that objective.
“But nothing really happened.”
3/75 along with elements from its sniper platoon would next deploy to Iraq. The days of nothing really happening were about to come to an end.
5
Triple Threat
As the Global War on Terror altered in shape, so too did the role of the nation’s most elite snipers.
In Afghanistan, al-Qaeda and the Taliban had been overwhelmed by the initial onslaught. Forced to accept the military and technological superiority of the presumed “paper tiger,” terrorist leadership and foot soldiers alike scattered into hiding. Some sought the shelter of borders while others dispersed among the local population.
As a result, Herculean efforts to scale perilous mountainsides no longer granted AFO teams a vantage point in the clouds from which they could call death down from the sky on collected masses of enemy fighters with any sort of regularity.
Instead, the Joint Special Operations Command became more and more focused on executing surgical snatch-and-grabs and decapitation strikes aimed at high-value targets. As such, JSOC’s special mission units were presented with the opportunity to demonstrate their highly vaunted capabilities in dark arts such as close-quarters combat.
Despite contrasting political and geographical considerations in Iraq, the same was not only also true there, but especially so. Delta Force had begun storming compounds with increasing frequency as it made its first steps toward developing a powerful capability to systematically tear apart loosely connected networks of enemy combatants, strategic piece by strategic piece.
The rounding up of Hussein and his cronies who represented Iraq’s 55 Most Wanted was only a minor preamble to the statement JSOC was about to make. The hard-hitting, up-close nature of this next phase of GWOT had shifted the spotlight over to the assaulters.
Even when special operations forces are viewed through a relatively microscopic lens, the assaulters that lend the line squadrons at Delta and DEVGRU their heart and soul are regarded as exemplars of soldiering in its highest form … and for good reason.
Potential operators are first identified through methods that are custom designed and proven over time. They sift through the nation’s most battle-hardened and accomplished warriors and then choose only those with the traits required to excel at an even higher level.
Those who pass selection are then subjected to months of exhaustive training that forces their bodies and minds to push the upper bounds of human limits. If one actually succeeds in making it through to see the light at the other end of this demanding pipeline, they are issued customized and technologically advanced gear available nowhere else that allows them to effectively leverage their extensive training. They are then given the operational support necessary to conduct the most high-priority and tactically challenging operations in existence at a breakneck pace.
The vast majority of well-proven SOF veterans who attempt to enter their ranks never make it to this point. Those who do now occupy the uppermost stratum in the warfighter hierarchy.
And yet, there exists an even more advanced tier to which they may eventually ascend.
* * *
Even though the mission had evolved, the importance of JSOC’s recce assets did not diminish in the least. Rather, these snipers’ stacked skill sets were called upon in new ways, and they again responded by demonstrating a total mastery of modern warfare.
Collectively, Delta and DEVGRU’s snipers stand as the most seasoned, capable, and versatile human assets in the nation’s arsenal.
The term “sniper” is actually something of a misnomer when discussing the special mission units. The word naturally directs one’s mental images downrange in a Hathcockian trajectory centered around ghillie-suited soldiers stalking their prey with bolt action rifles.
And while it’s certainly the case that the recce snipers must be capable of delivering precision fire at great distance and with superior accuracy, that is just one of the three primary—and in some ways, contradictory—roles with which they are tasked.
In addition to the expectation that they outshoot even single-purpose snipers hailing from other units, JSOC’s recce operators must also be capable of executing violent, close-range raids with the same surgical exactness as their Tier 1 assaulter brothers. On top of that, they must be able to blend in to hostile, nonpermissive environments to conduct high-risk reconnaissance and surveillance that may be considered too dangerous for even the most brazen intelligence operatives.
Each of these three broad disciplines is extreme in its demands, requiring intensive training across a wide range of tactics and techniques that test one’s physical, mental, and psychological strength.
They also require different approaches, from the distant (physically and emotionally) sniper, to the hyperaggressive assaulter, to the unassuming clandestine operative.
It is a position that requires maturity and experience in addition to inordinate amounts of training.
“They’re assaulters first; rarely does anyone go straight to sniper troop out of OTC,” explained Larry Vickers, who spent fifteen years in Delta Force as an assaulter and combat marksmanship instructor.
With few exceptions, JSOC’s recce ranks are filled with operators who registered years of exceptional service as an assaulter before transitioning to the sniper role.
Vickers himself trained as an SF sniper prior to his arrival in the Unit, attending the Special Operations Target Interdiction Course (SOTIC). He’s far from an unusual case in that regard. But established—even celebrated—snipers start the process all over again when they graduate to the next level due to unique demands required of SMU snipers.
Combined with their previous time spent in high-speed units such as the Army’s Special Forces, the 75th Ranger Regiment, or the Navy SEALs, it’s not unusual for an operator to have already accumulated a decade of special operations experience before he first begins to learn the ropes as a Tier 1 sniper.
“Once you become a sniper at DEVGRU … the performance requirement is so high,” said former DEVGRU sniper Craig “Sawman” Sawyer. “You end up in a spot and you try for all your worth to become the best in the world at it. You get a lot more time on the rifle and a lot more support. You have no excuses for failure.”
* * *
While the individual operators would strongly disagree, Delta Force and DEVGRU are largely similar units, at least from a broader perspective. There is, perhaps, an 80–90 percent agreement in their respective organizational structures and mission sets. And certainly, they are more similar to one another than Delta is to Army Special Forces or DEVGRU is to the other SEAL Teams in this regard.
However, it’s an oversimplification, and often inaccurate, to simply group the two units, their snipers, or the methods by which they are chosen into a single explanation.
The transition for a SEAL who moves from one of the regular Teams to ST6 is less abrupt in some ways than it is for a solider progressing to Delta Force from any other command. The separation between the two levels is not viewed quite so great by many inside the Teams, and the reputation a prospective DEVGRU operator previously earned as a vanilla SEAL will play a significant role determining whether he’ll be given a shot at “the big leagues.”
Meanwhile, the chances of a would-be Unit operator—whether he is a Green Beret, Ranger, Marine, or even Information Technology Specialist—is weighted more heavily on their performance during the selection process.
And just as this basic recruitment methodology differs, Delta and DEVGRU also tend to approach tabbing an assaulter for sniper duty differently as well.
Here too the A
rmy unit is more structured and formalized. Following the conclusion of each round of its taxing selection process and follow-up Operator Training Course (OTC), rookie operators are divvied up among the line squadrons via a draft that would not be unfamiliar to fans of professional sports. Similarly, experienced assaulters can be drafted to the recce troop in the same manner.
A selected sniper remains with his previous Sabre Squadron, and again kicks off another round of in-depth training to obtain the skills required to operate in a recce capacity.
With SEAL Team Six, progression tends to be driven more by the career aspirations of its operators. DEVGRU also utilizes a draft following Green Team (its version of OTC), but after that, at a certain point, assaulters may be given the chance to volunteer for a sniper position. While a three-year minimum is the loose guideline, there are examples of SEALs being given the opportunity much sooner based on need and prior experience.
To get technical, the Naval Special Warfare Development Group’s four Tactical Development and Evaluation Squadrons—Red, Blue, Gold, and Silver—are split up into three troops of approximately twenty operators apiece. Each troop contains a small sniper element (“RECCE”) to complement its assault teams.
In addition to augmenting the troops of their individual color squadrons, DEVGRU’s snipers are viewed as a modular, separable asset (hence the collective “Black Team” nickname for the unit’s snipers across the squadrons). And as such, the sniper teams not only seamlessly integrate with assault teams during direct action missions, they are also capable of conducting low-visibility operations on their own. (Delta’s basic assaulter/sniper troop structure is thought to be roughly the same.)
Should a DEVGRU squadron require a rapid injection of talent into its sniper ranks, exceptions to the seniority rule have been known to be made at the Squadron Master Chief’s discretion. Howard Wasdin was one of those rare examples. “Waz-man” was still just an FNG (new guy) when he was given the green light to become an ST6 sniper.
Another example is fellow Red Squadron alumnus Sawyer. In fact, the Texan only served as an assaulter for a matter of weeks before he was allowed to join Black Team.
He explained, “Normally that’s a senior position—you need to be in an assault team for a period of years before they consider letting you go back there, because you do operate more autonomously with more equipment and responsibility relative to an assaulter.
“But I was already a decorated combat veteran when I went to DEVGRU. At the time I went there, that was rare. And I had been a sniper instructor—not just a sniper. And I had prior service—I had been in the Marine Corps. So I came in with a higher set of experience and qualifications than my peers did at that time. So when there were several senior snipers that retired in rapid succession, they had a need to push somebody back there to fill those empty slots.”
Sawyer admitted he was torn. He was looking forward to filling the assaulter role and the camaraderie that comes along with it, “but when you’re given an early promotion, so to speak, you don’t refuse it.”
Once in, the advanced training begins and is handled largely in-house. Sawyer explained, “We trained ourselves. There was nobody really training us because who on the face of the planet knew what we needed to do more than we did? We were afforded every luxury and support item that was required. And as professionals, there was no excuse to fail. We knew that was on us, so we trained ourselves accordingly. We traveled all over the place, in different locations, and under every condition, just to be prepared for anything.”
* * *
In the earliest days of Delta Force, back when it was still racing to assemble an operational force, it could not afford to take the time to scout and groom sniper prospects over a matter of years. To hasten the process, the Unit’s psychologist identified several key traits thought to predict success in that role.
According to the Unit’s founder and first commanding officer, Colonel Charlie Beckwith, they sought operators boasting such traits as “poise, patience, concentration, stability, calmness, and meticulousness about details.”
B Squadron plank owner Eric Haney noted in his memoirs, Inside Delta Force, the original Unit snipers selected with these characteristics in mind came across as intelligent men, almost academic in their mannerisms.
Following decades of evolution shaped by each successive victory and failure, Delta Force now targets a slightly different breed of warrior for the recce role. While those originally cited traits retain their value in the position, they alone are not enough.
As explained by a retired Delta sniper who served multiple combat deployments post-9/11, “Do-gooder can’t fight. You have to be a good person—have a good heart and good intentions—but you also have to be ready to fuck these motherfuckers up and get bad, only to see the job through.”
* * *
Since 9/11, the Unit’s recce team rooms have been occupied by men who go by “Don,” “Bob,” and “John.” While those names may lack a certain marquee-ready quality, the warriors themselves are far from average. To those behind the curtain of black operations, they are legends.
That “John”—John McPhee—serves as a prime example of the sort of overwhelming talent, training, courage, and accomplishment that has been boasted by the recce ranks over the past decade.
Lethal from any range and a wide variety of weaponry, McPhee epitomized all aspects of the impossibly demanding position during his long tenure with the A Squadron recce troop.
Raised on the South Side of Chicago, the former Army Ranger and Green Beret was already well established as a Delta sniper when the towers fell in September 2001.
McPhee was a key player in the initial post-9/11 hunt for the likes of Osama bin Laden, Ayman al-Zawahiri, and Mullah Mohammed Omar.
While he took part in the first Battle of Tora Bora in December of 2001, McPhee’s legend was cemented (at least in a mainstream sense) in 2002 when he conducted a “singleton” operation that was later detailed in Kill Bin Laden, which was authored by A Squadron officer Dalton Fury.
Listed there by his call name “Shrek,” the book’s opening vignette describes how McPhee—thickly bearded and decked out in perahan tunban and pakol-style hat—effortlessly melted into the Afghan population in order to secure actionable intelligence—actual eyes on one Awal Malim Gul.
Gul, a suspected al-Qaeda sympathizer, was believed to have sheltered a desperate and wounded bin Laden after he escaped Tora Bora. It was thought the al-Qaeda emir fled north to Gul’s home in the Pachir Agam valley near Jalalabad.
McPhee casts an imposing figure—his size, attitude, and skills make for the perfect storm of intimidation. An alpha even among a legion of type A’s, the sniper carries himself with a confidence that can border on menacing. Almost by definition, that should make him the antithesis of the “gray man”—those with an unexceptional presence that allows them to be exceptional undercover operatives.
However, McPhee was not only able to turn that quality on, but do so in hostile territory. He went unnoticed in an alien country on the other side of the planet, with customs, dress, and language far removed from those most Americans are comfortable with—one of the hardest targets imaginable.
“That comes down to demeanor,” explained McPhee. “And demeanor is a learned skill.”
It also comes down to being blessed with rare intelligence—McPhee registered one of the higher IQ scores ever to be recorded by an operator during the selection process. While the Unit prizes mental acumen—and boasts men with Ph.D.’s and master’s degrees in its operator ranks—there’s a ceiling at which point a stratospheric intelligence quotient is actually considered a detractor. It’s been said men who are too smart won’t run toward machine-gun fire, but, as Shrek discovered years later over beers with the Unit psychologist, the shrink showed his intelligence by giving the Chicago native the green light despite an unacceptably high score on his entrance exam.
Shrek traveled among the locals unnoticed and closed in on Gul
’s residence, hidden alongside a ridgeline in the immediate vicinity of nearly forty other homes. Leveraging the 360-degree, total situational awareness that is drilled into recce operators, he invisibly gathered video evidence and the exact coordinates of Gul’s location.
Once McPhee had enabled the assault team’s advance—showcasing impressive creativity and composure despite the immense pressure—the target was detained in a lightning assault on the compound.
The captive was later transferred to Guantanamo Bay, where he remained until 2011. Gul, who the Taliban requested in a proposed trade for captured American soldier Bowe Bergdahl, collapsed and died while exercising on an elliptical machine only months ahead of the raid that killed bin Laden.
The HVT capture of Awal Malim Gul was the Unit’s first after 9/11. It would be followed by hundreds more—if not thousands more—over the next decade.
While the tracking of Gul is Shrek’s only singleton op known to the public, it is far from the only one to have been executed.
He added to his legend as Delta Force continued to hone its manhunting capabilities during subsequent deployments to Iraq.
While the sprawling, tightly assembled mazes of buildings that hid the enemy in Iraq was in stark contrast to the rural, fortified compounds that did the same in Afghanistan, recce operators like Shrek relied on the exact same skill sets to conduct close target reconnaissance and pinpoint the location of prey in both countries. The lessons learned were directly applicable despite the divergent conditions.
“It’s the same philosophy either way,” the Unit sniper explained. “There’s more technology involved in Iraq—there isn’t just one building every one thousand meters.… In Iraq if you’re off by ten meters, you’re in the wrong location, but the approach is the same.”
McPhee also expanded his collection of war trophies that heavily hint at the pivotal role he played in that warzone as well. To go with Mullah Omar’s green and red Korans, McPhee added one of Saddam Hussein’s most iconic hats, a sweater that belonged to the deposed dictator (now complete with a Shrek-sized, stretched-out neck hole), and a new moniker: “the Sheriff of Baghdad.”