Hunters - U.S. Snipers In The War On Terror Page 9

  “Why are you carrying such a big weapon?” Stan joked, referring to the light machine gun slung around his old friend’s neck. “Doesn’t that slow you down?”

  “Well, where you’re going, the only thing they run from is a belt-fed weapon,” said the SF soldier, knowing what Stan and his partner were up against.

  He told the two snipers about the terrain and how rugged it was in the valley. He mentioned that the elevation alone was over nine thousand feet, and as if these two factors were not enough, the SF soldier went on.

  “Remember, they have the home field advantage. They have every possible route mapped out. They’ve been living in that area for hundreds of years and have fought off invaders dating back to the times of Alexander the Great. It’s going to be a hornet’s nest in there, so just be ready,” said the soldier.

  Although he was grateful for the information, the talk didn’t inspire Stan to be brave. In fact that night he did not sleep a wink. The very next morning his team and the other soldiers moved into the Shah-i-Kot valley.

  Technically, Operation Anaconda began on March 1, 2002. Special Operations teams infiltrated the valley to begin surveillance on and reconnaissance of landing zones and enemy target sights. On the morning of March 2, as dawn approached, the first wave of birds loaded with soldiers departed Bagram Air Base. Aboard, Stan’s team rode in with a rifle company and were not quite sure what kind of fight they would be facing. Whatever happened, Stan trusted Jason, his friend and partner. The two of them had been in the platoon together for a long time and had attended the same class at SOTIC, which added to their bond. Stan was also glad that Jason was a great shot.

  AH-64s, the U.S. Army’s premier attack helicopter, led the way into the valley. They covered the more vulnerable CH-47s loaded with soldiers. The helicopters entered the Shah-i-Kot valley and hoped for the element of surprise, but instead, the door gunners immediately went to work because they were being fired upon.

  The sound of the helicopters alerted the enemy from caves and bunkers in the mountainside. They unloaded with machine guns and AKs, hoping to down the choppers. Stan and Jason sat anxiously near the rear ramp, close to the manic tail gunner who was giving the enemy hell with his M60 machine gun.

  They flew in low, and Stan saw people gazing at them from the ground. When he turned his head, the bird jerked, and a stream of white smoke rushed past the back ramp. It was a rocket-propelled grenade. The soldiers were given the warning for one minute out, and the two snipers prepared to land. Suddenly, Stan felt one of the crew chiefs grab his shoulder.

  “Primary landing zone is hot! We’re moving to the alternate LZ, pass it on!” he yelled.

  In his mind, Stan remembered that the alternate LZ was only a stone’s throw away, meaning that it, too, would be hot.

  Around him, everyone prepared to exit. It was a mad dash to gather gear and get packs on. Stan and his partner stood up just in time to see the machine gun team opposite them shuffle toward the exit. When they stepped off the back ramp, it was evident that the bird was hovering higher than expected. They were around ten feet off the ground. When Stan stepped off, he fell hard into the dirt below but was not injured.

  With the last man off, the helicopters left, along with their loud clatter. The soldiers were at the base of a mountain range, preparing to move. Around them, firefights ensued from the other LZs. As the spotter, Stan was on the radio and put the handset to his ear to hear the traffic. Jason prepared his rifle, while Stan listened to the brigade network and heard that others received contact upon insert. He switched to the battalion network and learned that all of the elements from the Tenth Mountain were in serious fighting.

  Suddenly, shots rang out. Everyone hit the deck and scanned the area. Stan saw something move in the distance, around two hundred yards away. At first he could not make out what it was because it disappeared behind objects. Finally he got a good picture of a man with the signature brown Pakol hat dubbed “pizza hats” by the soldiers. The hat was indicative of local fighters, and gave away the shooter’s position to Stan.

  Stan crawled to a boulder close by to get a better view. His partner was handling the rifle, and the man was closer now, around 150 meters, in clear sight. The fighter rested on one knee and took aim at the soldiers near Stan. Without warning, Stan sighted in with the M68 Aimpoint scope mounted on his M4. Stan rested in a modified prone position and set his sights center on the man’s chest. But after two quick shots, the man still did not go down.

  “Did I miss?” he questioned.

  “What do you have?” asked Jason, but Stan did not have time to explain. He glanced back toward the enemy, who was now rushing for him. Immediately, Stan aimed and squeezed off another shot, and hit the man high in his chest, which put him down.

  Seconds later the soldiers began to move. As they climbed, Stan figured that he had shot what was to be the first of many fighters, but he also learned that what the commanders had said was true. The altitude was also the enemy.

  Their objective was 1,000 kilometers (33,000 feet) up the mountainside. The climb was taxing, especially with ninety pounds of gear. At that altitude it was hard to breathe. Stan and his partner were flanking the platoon to prevent ambushes. They used a few small goat trails that allowed for an easy trudge, but unfortunately the trails did not last. Most of the climbing was with hands, moving nearly vertical.

  After some time the men finally reached the top.

  “Did you shoot that guy back there?” asked Jason.

  “Yeah,” replied Stan, still somewhat out of breath.

  Gunfights echoed throughout the valley as the soldiers took positions. Although they’d passed nine thousand feet in altitude, there was still plenty of mountain. The snipers found a position to shield them from above and from across the valley.

  Stan and Jason decided to stay with the rest of the soldiers and dig in. Soon the enemy fighters were onto Stan’s element. Other soldiers began taking fire from across the valley, and a machine gun team near Stan’s position received contact.

  The two snipers were dispatched to help them, and they scrambled one hundred yards below them to the machine gun team.

  “Where’s the fire coming from?” asked Jason.

  The soldiers pointed the snipers in the right direction, and Stan used his spotting scope to comb the area. Snow covered some of the rocks and pine trees in the distance, and there were a lot of shadows coming off the landscape. Stan was not able to find the shooter, but fifteen minutes later they all heard the familiar crack of a bullet passing overhead.

  Stan immediately examined across the valley again. After another empty search, he narrowed the enemy’s location to three possible areas. From the angle of the passing bullet, Stan knew that the shooter was above them, possibly near one of the tree lines. There he set his sights and scanned back and forth.

  The shooter was silent for close to forty-five minutes before he made his last mistake. He took another shot and Stan spotted his muzzle flash. The man was lying in a hole surrounded by snow, with only his weapon and the top half of his body showing.

  Just moments before this, with help from the machine gunner, the snipers had been able to collect somewhat of a wind call. Stan asked the soldier to let out a burst of fire from which Stan would spot the tracer round. The soldier obliged, and Stan was worried after seeing the wind take the bullets for a joy ride. Their only chance of a hit would be to shoot between wind gusts.

  After the enemy fired, Stan quickly directed Jason on target. The enemy was around 750 meters, or a half a mile, away, and Jason dialed his scope and waited for the wind to die out. As soon as it did, Stan spoke up.

  “You need to shoot immed—” he said, but Jason was already on the ball and let loose before Stan could finish his sentence.

  The shot was timed perfectly, and Stan watched the bullet impact only eight to ten inches to the right.

  “Hold left, just off his right shoulder!” he said.

  Jason did and fired
again. The second shot was right on target, hitting the man low, near his stomach. The man slouched forward and stopped moving.

  “Great shot!” said Stan.

  Two minutes later, though, the man was shooting again. Stan looked at him, surprised that he was not dead. Jason had inflicted a wound, but it did not kill the shooter instantly, though he would eventually bleed out.

  “Put another one in him,” Stan announced.

  Jason shot again, but this time the round landed short, just in front of the man’s position. The bullet had looked to be dead-on and Stan guided Jason to shoot again. Sure enough, the last bullet put the man down for good.

  Afterward, Jason and Stan moved back up the mountain. Across the valley, the plan took an unexpected turn. Task Force Hammer, the preselected main element, had been compromised in the early stages of the operation. They were no longer able to sweep through the valley, and now Stan’s element, Task Force Anvil, was the main force.

  Later that afternoon, Stan’s team and the other soldiers were instructed to break position and fall back down the mountain. The battalion wanted everyone to reconsolidate and move to different locations. The soldiers waited until night to move. It took four hours to navigate down the dangerous terrain. Stan hoped not to trip, because there was no telling how far he would roll. Once down, the soldiers took up a position in an empty wadi for the night.

  Stan could not believe the cold. It was near −20˚F with the wind-chill. The snipers had one sleeping bag between the both of them because they expected a two-day mission. Throughout the night the two traded the use of the sleeping bag, but the cold, the rocks, and sporadic mortar fire made it hard to sleep.

  Before sunrise, the soldiers prepared to move. They were to move to position Amy, one of the pre-established blocking positions. It was a few kilometers away and they needed to move fast. Around 10 A.M., as they were hugging a bank near a wadi, Stan saw one of the soldiers break rank and walk toward the small stream of water a few yards away.

  “Don’t go over there. You’re probably going to get shot,” someone said.

  The soldier did not listen, and as soon as he bent down to wash his face, they were attacked. The enemy opened up with a barrage from a 12.7mm Dushka machine gun. It, along with mortars, began to smother the soldiers.

  Everyone hugged the embankment except the soldier near the stream. Bullets hit near his feet and he did not know where to run. Though it was not funny, Stan could not help but laugh at the soldier. He looked like he was dancing. Miraculously, the soldier made it to the side of the wadi and out of danger. When he did, the shooting eventually stopped, allowing the patrol to set out again.

  A few hundred yards later, the wadi ended and the soldiers climbed out. Suddenly a pop rang out in the distance. Stan glanced to the front of the patrol and saw an RPG land fifteen feet away from him, at the feet of another soldier. The blast threw the soldier onto his back and also knocked Stan and Jason over. Stan was dizzy for a second but recovered, and noticed that the soldier who had been hit was severely wounded. Shrapnel had mangled his legs and ripped into his left ribs and armpit. The impact had destroyed his front Small Arms Protective Insert (SAPI) plate and all of the magazines within his chest rig.

  Instinctively, Stan and Jason ran over and dragged the unconscious soldier into a nearby ditch. Another volley of mortars fell around them, while others found their way into the ditch as well.

  “This sucks! Every time we turn around, we’re getting attacked!” Stan thought.

  The hole they were in was fifteen feet deep. Above them, mortars pounded the banks, sending dirt in every direction. A medic tended to the wounded soldier, but the damage was bad.

  Everyone waited for the barrage to stop, but it did not. Mortars landed close, shaking the ground in the hole. Stan knew that if one landed in the ditch, they would all be dead. Suddenly the inevitable happened, one landed inside. It hit high. Amazingly, nobody was injured, but dirt flew everywhere.

  The two snipers looked at each other. Stan realized there was the possibility of a hand-to-hand combat with the enemy.

  “What do you think?” he asked, wondering if they were going to live.

  “Man, I don’t know,” replied Jason.

  “This is what is going to happen. We will continue to watch each other’s back, and either we will end up crawling out of here tonight, or they’re going to send a group in to close with us. Maybe we’ll end up fighting it out right here. This could be the end,” Stan said.

  They were exhausted from the movement and from the sleepless night. Stan hoped to have the energy to fight with his hands if he had to.

  Then Stan made a foxhole promise.

  “If God can get me out of this, I’m not going to be such a jerk when I get back,” he thought. In the States, Stan was a loner. When his teammates opted for a night on the town, Stan chose to hit the gym. When they wanted to catch a movie or hang out, he declined in favor of going to a local shooting range and practicing his technique. But in that hole, he promised God that if he made it out, he would be a changed man.

  The soldiers were trapped in the ditch for hours. A few minutes after sundown, however, the mortars let up. The enemy mortar team had been on a hill known as the Whale because of its resemblance to a whale. By nightfall, a recon team had spotted the enemy team and called in air support, killing the fighters.

  That night, the soldiers made it to their position and settled in. When Stan was awakened for watch, the valley was cloudy, dark, and very cold. Sporadic fighting could be heard throughout. With his night vision, Stan noticed two MH-47 helicopters, used by Special Operations, flying overhead. He wondered what their mission was as they flew deeper into the valley.

  “It’d be nice if a bird came and got us. This sucks!” he thought.

  Ten minutes later, through his optics, night turned into day from explosions in the distance. He grabbed the radio and turned to the brigade network, but did not hear anything immediately. Then he heard that one of the helicopters had been shot down, and that the fighting was intense. Stan remembered what his Special Forces friend had said back at the Bagram Air Base, and it was the truth. It was a hornet’s nest.

  The next morning, Stan’s unit was tasked to move a short distance away. A mountain between them and their destination, along with the brutal terrain, caused the movement to last from 0900 to 2200 that night. Along the way, the soldiers ran into a Special Forces team on all-terrain vehicles coming down from where the soldiers were going. When the Special Forces team learned of their intentions, some of the men chuckled. Stan overheard them say that another 12.7mm Dushka was wreaking havoc in the area and that the soldiers shouldn’t try moving down the other side of the hill. They also gave them grid coordinates to a cache of extra MREs and five-gallon water jugs that they had left behind.

  When they reached their position, Stan and Jason teamed up with four recon soldiers from the platoon. Their job was to observe for enemy reinforcements moving into the valley and to destroy them. The six of them broke away from the other soldiers and climbed for most of the night. The trek was literally breathtaking, forcing them to stop every few hundred feet to catch their breath. When they were high enough, the team positioned themselves where the Special Forces soldiers had been.

  After daybreak, the men sat somewhere between thirteen and fourteen thousand feet altitude. Stan realized that he was looking into Pakistan. From then on, the team called in air strikes on vehicles carrying reinforcements and on enemy mortar teams. Insurgents kept on the move, and the team used optics to spot them. When they did, their weapon of choice became the deadly A-10 Thunderbolts, known as Warthogs. This aircraft specializing in close-air support brought with them bombs and 30mm Gatling guns firing depleted uranium armor-piecing shells at a rate of 2,100 to 4,100 rounds per minute.

  Meanwhile the other sniper teams were seeing action of their own. East of the Shah-i-Kot Valley, in the town of Khost, snipers from Stan’s unit were in heavy fighting, too. Many of t
he al-Qaeda fighters that Stan and his men encountered had moved through Khost, fighting their way past the U.S. soldiers there. On one occasion, the insurgents almost made it into the soldiers’ compound. The spotter for the two-man sniper team, a soldier named Vinny, shot eighteen high-explosive 203mm grenades at one mud hut. Later when the hut was inspected, the soldiers found body parts, a scalp, and a sandal. Jason, the shooter, went through most of his ammo for the bolt-action M24 in a matter of hours. In the length of time they were in Afghanistan, those two snipers accumulated more kills between the two of them than most of the entire battalion.

  Elsewhere in the valley, other snipers made history. Attached to the 101st were Canadian snipers from the Third Battalion, Princess Patricia’s Canadian Light Infantry. Two three-man Canadian sniper teams infiltrated the valley along with U.S. soldiers. For days they provided covering fire for U.S. soldiers and killed targets at amazing distances. One soldier, Corporal Robert Furlong, armed with a .50-caliber sniper rifle, dispatched an enemy fighter from a distance measured at 2,430 meters (8,000 feet). It was a world record shot.

  After nine days of calling in fire support, Stan and his team climbed off the mountain. Two uneventful days passed at the bottom of the hill before they were flown to Bagram Air Base. The simple two-day mission of Operation Anaconda had turned into twelve days, and in that time Stan went from 185 pounds to 158 pounds.

  At the close of the summer, Stan and his partner were flown back to Kandahar. Their stay in Afghanistan was coming to an end and the Eighty-second Airborne was coming to replace them. Stan was glad that he had been to combat, but he was unsatisfied that he had not been able to actually get behind the sniper rifle and do his job. In the final weeks of his stay, he learned, however, that he just might get the chance to do so. The rumor was that a war with Iraq was coming down the line, and all of the 101st Airborne Division was going to be a part of it.

  Korengal Valley

  Operation Whalers called for the marines to enter the Korengal Valley and clear it of Shah’s men. Among the battalion, two companies would hold blocking positions to intercept fleeing fighters, while the rest of the marines patrolled into the Korengal. Rush’s sniper team was picked to lead the men patrolling as over-watch for the second group.