Warning - Language may not be suitable for children...or saintly wives. 
Real News From The Front Lines
The following message was received in an e-mail that originated in Iraq. If the story is true (and it sounds very plausible) then these guys are truly special people…Marines, who know how to get the job done. Although I usually do not allow cuss words to be used on this website, I make the exception here. After all these are Marines in the thick of it! If you were in their situation you might use stronger language…you might also pray. These Marines apparently did not have time to pray. God bless ‘em.
If the story is not true it makes a good ad for Marlboro cigarettes.
Time: 1130
Date: September 6th 2007
Location: Baghdad, Iraq
Corporal M. checked his rifle over for the third time in ten minutes. He was always re-checking his gear before mission, and this time was no different.
"Calm down, Colin" his spotter said looking up at him "We've done this 50 times by now man, you're good. Trust me, we're both good."
"Yeah I know man, I'm not worried, it's just a nice idea to be sure I'm good to go. I don't think my wife will be too pleased if I come home in a box because my rifle didn't fire." was his response. They have had this discussion before, and would undoubtedly have it again. It was almost as daily as his PCC's. But for now the young corporal was done. He looked down at the city below him. People were just going by their daily business. A few Humvee's were roaming the streets, but nothing big was happening. Kids were running around the playground. Moore laughed a little as he thought to himself.. It's a war, and kids are out on the swing set.
"Two Minutes, Corporal." the headset crackled as the pilot Cheif Warrent Officer A. announced their progress. They were two minutes out. Two minutes from a boring day trying to pass time and falling victim to countless hours of boredom, till it was time to take their shot. They had come in contact before, but nothing big had really happened. Raids were fun for the first few times, then they became stale and repetitive. Kick in the door, yell at everyone to get down, search the house, come up dry, say sorry and leave. Of course there were a few exceptions in which they stormed a house and made contact. There were those days where RPG's were flying overhead and the enemy was hard charging and up to fight. But most days it was the same. A sniper set one day, and driving down the street waiting to get blown up another. A friend back home asked him about the IED's. He asked how many they find. His response was quick as he shot back
"We find every IED we encounter." He knew what he had gotten into already and waited for the follow up.
"So how do you find them?"
"They blow us up." The conversation had ended there.
"30 Seconds, M." the radio said. M. cursed himself for spacing out, he should be watching the streets below. It's always good to at least get a little bit of a view of the area they would be in. Just in case shit hit the fan, they could make a fast retreat and would have a least a basic idea on which ways were crowded or blocked off. His spotter, Private First Class, Logan B. was spacing out as usual. Probably dreaming about beer. Or maybe home. Probably beer.
"Alright gentlemen" he heard "We've arrived at our final destination. It's time for you to get the fuck out my bird, and please, put your seats in the upright and locked positions. Thank you for flying Peace Keeper 1-3 airlines." M. and B. jumped out quickly and started to move away from the Black Hawk so they could be clear to leave. The longer they were there the more attention they would receive.
The two snipers ran out of their little clearing and into the urban jungle that they would make their fortress. They needed a high building with a good view to see their target. An arms dealer that was driving around the market place dealing out of his trunk. The man was smart in not having one location, it was hard to track him. And with a security detail of over 200 men, he could put up a fight if you wanted to try to take him head on. He fielded a powerful arsenal of grenades, rockets, snipers, machine guns, and AK-47s stockpiled throughout the city. His men could be notified and fighting in less than 15 minutes time. He was a tricky bastard, and thought he was well protected. But not this time, because now he was about to deal with an enemy that was ready to sneak in and kill him from over half a kilometer away. He'd be long dead, and they would be on their way to the extraction point before the people around him heard the shot. If they worked fast enough anyway. Which they would. They had come close before but he slipped away. This time there would be no mistakes. Unfortunately they couldn't get a high building. For some reason, command told them to go on a certain building. It was the first time they had ordered them to do so, and neither men liked the idea. But they had to do what they were ordered.
"Logan, give me ranged on those buildings up there, the marketplace, and the clearing behind us." M. said as he started setting up the spotting scope and rifle.
"Left building 600 meters, Right 450 clearing 750, marketplace 550, and that bridge beyond the clearing, 900.." B. replied shortly after. M. was on the radio talking to X-Ray
"Regulator X-Ray this is Lightning Viper, set at Location Alpha, Grid follows, break" he said into the mic "Grid: Sierra Victor, Two-Two-Five..Two-Nine-Three, how copy, over"
"Viper out" he said again. No doubt X-Ray told him they got the grid and good luck. Just like every time.
M. picked up his M24 sniper rifle and placed the butt stock into his shoulder and started to look at the area. Bowers was scanning with his 20X M49 spotting scope. It was a little old, but Bowers had always preferred it. His dad, a Marine Scout Sniper, had used the very same spotting scope in Desert Storm. Now Bowers continued it's use in Operation Iraqi Freedom. Maybe his son would join the Military and become a sniper. Then he could use the spotting scope in whatever war he fought in. His dad had always asked about the M24, which was the Army's answer to the M40 that his father used during the Gulf War, but there wasn't much differences in the two. They both shot out to about the same distance, both were 7.62, and bolt action. B. wasn't as much of a fan of the M24 as his shooter was. He loved the M107 personally. Something about a .50 Caliber sniper rifle just made him giggle like a school girl whenever M. brought it out. They could punch that beast out to over two kilometers away. The raw power of the rifle was something that everyone would always awe over. He almost felt like a celebrity whenever he came back onto the FOB, walking in with their assault rifles and two, sometimes three, sniper rifles. They were outsiders in the area, Scout Snipers in the 3rd ACR attached to the 10th Mountain Division. The rest of their unit were back in the states still. They weren't supposed to deploy for another two months, and when they did deploy he would have to start his 15 month tour with them. After spending 4 months in Iraq already. Everyone else was on leave, and getting ready to deploy. Half days, and 4 day weekends, Friday BBQ's and platoon parties. He could be home in Indiana with his family this weekend, but instead he was sitting on a low building looking through a twenty powered scope waiting for some guy to come and do his business. The bastard might not even show up, half the time they get Intel it's bad. He scanned to the left and down a little bit. There was a bunch of kids walking towards them. He looked away and pulled out the binoculars, they were closing in fairly fast, but were looking around for something.
"Colin, I got some kids coming in man. They're looking for something it seems."
"They're probably looking for us. These guys heard the chopper come in, so instead of searching for us themselves and risking getting shot, they're sending a bunch of kids to find us."
"You think they'll find us?"
"Oh I know they will."
"Then what do we do?"
"Hope that our guy shows up before the guns do."
"Great.." B. wasn't exactly looking forward to a big fight. Hopefully they'll be out of here soon. He scanned back out to the marketplace just as a car came up. He looked down at the notes he scribbled earlier. "Black BMW, windows tinted." he had written. So the guy was working out of a black BMW, easy enough. At least it wasn't a white car, or pick-up. He could count 50 of those in a matter of seconds. He went back to the car, sure enough it was black with tinted windows. Looked about like a BMW. He looked over at the kids again, they were gone. Then back at the car as the doors started to open.
"I think we got our man."
"I see him, wait for PID." M. picked up the picture they had of the man and looked back into his Leupold 3 1/2 to 10 X scope. Then back at the picture, then through his scope again. "Yep that's him alright. Hit me brother." B. was already scirbbling down notes and looking through his Laser Range Finder.
"Barometric pressure at 30.5, humidity: 83 percent, temperature: 117°... He's 560 meters out.. elevation: five up, 1.5 minutes of angle, wind: 13 mph from two o'clock, deflection: three minutes of angle right and add .5 for spin drift." A few seconds went by as M. dialed in his adjustments. His Leupold had the 1/4 minute adjustments in elevation so he could pretty much zero it to a gnats eye lash if he wanted too. And he did.. He always wanted to make the first shot count. One shot one kill. Then they could get out of there.
"Ready when you are." he said calmly. B. got into his spotting scope and got ready to watch the vapor trail in case M. missed. He hardly missed, but you never knew.
"Punch that shit."
M. took a deep breath and held it as he slowly started to pull back on the trigger. It was set to three pounds, just the way he liked it. There was no detectable trigger movement, but he knew when it would fire. He couldn't hear what was going on around him. He blocked out everything around him. There was nothing but him and the coming shot. The trigger would break smoothly without follow through... He continued to squeeze and the rifle slammed into his shoulder as the muzzle rose just enough from the recoil to loose his target. M. held through the recoil however and the scope dropped back into place. He saw the bullet slam into the arms dealer. His head burst and he fell behind the car, dropping the rifle he was getting ready to sell. His buyer started running fast, not wanting to be the next target for the riflemen over 550 meters away.
"Right in the head, nice shot." B. said.
"Lets pack this shit up, I'm calling up X-Ray for extraction." M. reached for the radio just as the ground in front of his face exploded. Dirt and little pieces of the roof hit his face as the familiar crack of a Dragunov sniper rifle shot reached his ears.
"Sniper!" He heard B.s yell as he was diving for cover. Moore was moving too, before even realizing it. "They shot came from the right, he has to be in those buildings somewhere. I have no clue where though. Any Ideas?" B. yelled trying to figure out away to look.
"I got nothing man, there's too many fucking rooms in there.. I'm trying to see if I see anything, but I got nothing yet." Just as his finished his sentence he heard the whine of an an RPG and looked up to see the rocket flying towards them. Maybe two feet overhead the rocket flew and exploded on the other side of the roof. Shrapnel and concrete flew as M. tried find the gunner. He saw a figure on the roof running and he picked up his rifle. B. was already doing his job.
"He's 450 out and moving, one down one left." M. centered his cross heir on the gunner and then moved to to the left. One dot left one down.. He pulled the trigger and watched the insurgent stumble and drop as the round hit him. Before he looked away another round impacted a foot away from him as the sniper took another shot. "I see him!" B. said with excitement. "Top floor, 5th window from the right!" M. scanned over and sure enough there he was. He put his cross heir on the sniper and pulled. The rifle kicked and the sniper died. Before B. could even report the kill a burst from a machine gun came in. It sounded like an PKD and rounds were landing all around him. It wasn't hard to find the gunner though, and M. dropped him quickly. Hopefully he was the last man. M. relaxed a little as he heard B..
"Uh.. Dude.. I think you should see this." He was obviously worried. It couldn't be good. M. looked over where his spotter was pointing. The alleyway leading down to the marketplace was filled with men coming towards them. But they weren't just moving in a mob. They were staying low, keeping security, moving tactfully, and watching their target. They were trained. M. picked up his binoculars for a closer look at the group. Kalashnikov's were in their hands, and extra magazines were stuffed in wherever they could get them. They were outfitted for a fight. Much more of a fight than either B. or M. were ready for. M. didn't say anything but reached for the handmic.
"Regulator X-Ray, this is Lightning Viper. Target one killed, but we have a situation."
"Viper, this is X-Ray, whats up?"
"We've already taken sniper, RPG, and machine gun fire on our position. Now we have a lot of gunmen advancing on the building, over."
"Roger viper, how many gunmen do you estimate?"
"30"
"13?" X-Ray didn't think 30 could be correct.
"No, dammit, 30"
"13?" X-Ray was still unsure, Moore was getting mad.
"NO! 30! 3-0!"
"Roger, 30 insurgents advancing on your location?"
"Yes, dammit! 30 of them, we're not in any position for a big fight here, call in Renegade and get birds in the air now. We're also requesting QRF."
"Roger, Viper we'll get them up and running, hold." Moore waited on the radio impatiently as rounds started to hit the walls. More RPG, and Machine Gun fire was coming in from the right building now, and X-Ray was sitting on it's ass.
"Viper, this is X-Ray." they finally said
"Roger, go ahead."
"We got birds on the way, it'll be about 20-30 minutes. QRF is held up on something else though, you'll have to hang on till the birds arrive." M. was angry and quiet.
"Roger. Out." He slammed down the radio and picked up his rifle. B. didn't have to say anything, he knew what was going on. He Started calling out shots to his shooter. At the same time he was trying to engage enemies closing in on the house. He didn't have any clear shot, the men advancing were using good cover, making them harder to hit. He tried to just slow them down while Moore shot the men in the buildings around them.
"RPG, 610, at your 11... He's down.. Sniper 610, 11, 4th story.... Machine Gun 450 2, top floor... Another sniper top floor, last window to left..." B. could tell his shooter was being overwhelmed by the targets. He fired several 203 rounds into the houses, nailing each target dead on. He didn't know if he killed the men inside, but at least he rattled them enough to get them to move.
At the same time grenades were being thrown up and onto the roof while the enemies got closer. Both M. and B. threw most of them back. They estimated roughly thirty of them were thrown, but less than 10 exploded. Two managed to go off on the roof, but other then minor shrapnel the two were unhurt. While B. reloaded a magazine he noticed some more men advancing from the clearing in which they landed. There wasn't as many as the other group, but it was enough. He fired into the crowd, but it was too late. They had enough cover to be protected, so he didn't do as much damage as he hoped. He was able to kill three insurgents before being forced to turn back to his shooter, and the 30 men that had stared to storm the house.
M. reloaded his M24 and set the rifle down next to him. He engaged over twenty enemies from the surrounding buildings before the fire had stopped coming from those directions, meaning he probably took most, if not all of them out. Now his problem was the men that were now in the building below them. He picked up his M4 and drew a bead on the door that lead into the house. If the enemy decided to attempt to rush them, they would be ready. They could hear talking coming from inside the house. Sounded like a speech. No doubt someone in charge was telling them how they were going to storm the two Americans upstairs and kill them in cold blood. There was a cheer and M. knew that they were on their way up. He looked over to B. who was aimed at the door not moving. As he turned back towards the door, he saw insurgents start to burst through it. In a hail of fire him and his spotter started firing all they had into the mass of bodies being hurled at them. If anything it reminded him of some weird WWII Japanese attack. Almost Kamikaze in a way.
"Reloading!" B. shrieked over the gunfire. The crack of the AK deafened him more so than the familiar pop of his rifle. He had forgotten to put earplugs in.. It would be the last time he told himself.
Suddenly M. felt something slam into him and his chest burst out in pain as he jumped from the force. Oh my God! he thought to himself.. I'm hit! he felt another round hit his stomach, followed quickly by one more in his chest again. Hit! 3 times! Oh God, I'm going to die if I don't do something!... He looked down at himself, but there was nothing. The rounds, although painful didn't break through his vest. Other then the dull pain of what felt like a baseball bat to the chest and stomach, he was unhurt. Moore picked up his rifle, more determined than ever and started shooting like a madman. It wasn't long before he heard a cry of pain from B.. His spotter was now bleeding from his arm, his ACU's slowly turning a dark red. Good thing it's dark red M. thought.. If it was light it could be arterial. M. looked down at his own arm, and saw that he was bleeding too.. But from when? He didn't know, nor did he care. What was important was that he was hit, but it was minor. His leg was bleeding too, but it didn't hurt him bad enough to take his attention.
It wasn't long before the two shot up the last of the 5.56 ammunition. M. had started engaging close targets with his M24, but he didn't bring many rounds and was empty soon after. With their 9MM pistols drawn they were ready to make one last stand. M. was the first one to go black on ammo, but by that point the fighting had almost stopped. Maybe they had killed them all.. He didn't know. It wasn't long before his question was answered as three more insurgents came up into view. These three were a little more tactical in the sense they were using cover. However B. still made waste to them before running out on ammo as well. The two snipers were down out of ammo, and had no idea how many enemies they had with them. They sat in silence for what felt like forever, both unsure what to do. B. broke the silence first as he drew out the KABAR he received upon the graduation of Sniper School.
"Well, I'm not sure about you, but I'm not looking forward to getting tortured and killed on TV..."
"I'll throw dirt if I have to, but they wont take me without a fight... Hopefully they'll be forced to kill me." M. replied drawing out his own KABAR. He tried to hide the fear in his voice, but he knew that B. could tell. It didn't matter to B. anyway, as he watched his hand shake as it gripped the combat knife tightly. He looked over at his partner, to see him looking at a picture of his wife. A tear rolled down M.'s cheek and hit the weathered picture. The man didn't want to die, he was still young, and was looking forward to spending the rest of his life with his wife. B. looked down and thought about his own girlfriend. What would she think of this? How the hell is Colin's wife going to deal with this? Our parents? Jesus, we're about to die here. 8,000 miles from home on a desert roof...
M. put the picture of his wife back in his pocket and took out his pack of Miami Cigarette's for one last smoke. He got ready to light up, before stopping to think about it. He threw the cheap Iraqi cigarettes down. "If we're going to die, my last smoke isn't going to be this fucking Haji shit." he said reaching into his pocket to grab his metal cigarette case. Inside were two Marlboro Reds. They were the last cigarettes from his last pack before he left the states. Him and B. were planning on smoking them right before going back home. But now it seemed like they were at the end of the line. He passed on to his friend and they both lit up, and as M. smoked he thought about what was going on downstairs. Surely they would be coming up sometime soon. It had been a few minutes already, so what was taking them so long? They could have come up and killed them already. He decided when they did come, he would charge them with his knife. He knew B. would follow suit. The noise from downstairs settled and he figured they would be coming upstairs any second now. He could hear choppers off in the distance, but it didn't matter. There's no way that they could arive in time. He braced himself for what was sure to be his last fight..
But it didn't come. They remained downstairs and the sound of helicopters grew increasingly louder. Then from nowhere two Kiowa's came flying over the building low. Two Apache's came in right behind them. They broke left and he heard the sound of hellfire missiles being shot into a street next to them. A Black Hawk came flying in low. Very low, and slow. He remembered the radio and picked it up.
"Lightning Viper, Lightning Viper, This is Peace Keeper 1-3, do you copy, Over?"
"Peace Keeper 1-3. this is Viper, I got you." He said back.
"Jesus, M., scare me half to death will ya? Get your shit and jump in while I do a pass over. We have to make this go fast, Renegade birds are itching to level the house with hellfire's."
"Roger, Viper out." M. said, picking up his rifles. B. grabbed the spotting scope, and followed M. as he ran to the middle of the roof. The Black Hawk came in low, and slow, and they both jumped in and quickly threw on their headsets. "We're up!" M. yelled in as the pilot started to pick up speed and altitude. He took a sharp right, away from the building.
"I got targets here with RPG's and AK's!" his gunner shouted as he started shooting. B. and M. both looked with awe as the Mini gun tore into the targets below. Hellfire missiles impacted on the house and it went up in a cloud of dust and debris. If anyone was inside, they were dead now,.
"M., I've flown you and B. to damn near every one of your OP's." CW5 A. said. "You guys try to pull another stunt like this, and I'm going to be pissed. I like y'all, don't go dying on me now." M. couldn't do anything but laugh as he watched the ground below him blur together.
When they landed, they were greeted by LtCol. P. as he shook their hands. "Impressive work, gentlemen. That may just be the largest fight this year. You guys may have just made history. I'm not sure how big you guys realize this is. It's huge."
"Quite frankly, sir, I'm not sure we want to know." B. replied. "It's just a job."
"You don't understand." The officer said again. "Do you think I come down here to meet everybody who went out on patrol, or made contact?"
"No." M. said, "So what did we do that was so amazing?"
"Well, I'm glad you asked, Corporal." P. said with a grin. "What it looks like to me, is two snipers made contact with overwhelming odds, both suffered injuries, and both did their duty to engage and destroy an enemy that tried to throw everything they had at them. Now, I'm not sure on the numbers, but we were watching with a UAV. If I counted right, you guys killed over 50 men. Maybe even over 60. The Choppers killed several too, meaning you were probably being engaged by over 70 men. 70 fucking men, against two. They weren't stupid or ill equip either. 70 trained men, against two. If that doesn't send a fucking message I don't know what will."
"Well sir," M. said as medics started to cut away at his pant legs and jacket "Let me know what the count is, I'm sure the outside world will be very interested."
"Oh, they might not give a shit about how many you killed, or the fact that you were wounded. But I think they'll care about Purple Hearts, and other Medals. I'm putting you guys in for some. Bronze star with Valor at the least."
"Sir, really that isn't.."
"Horse shit, guys have gotten more for less. You deserve it. You deserve some time off, some R&R. I'm giving you two the hook-up. Get patched up, call home, and get some rest. Tomorrow come by the TOC and we'll talk some more."
"Yes, sir." was all M. said as more medics rushed over to get him inside the CSH. B. was already on his way in. M. didn't even care anymore, he just felt like calling home and getting some sleep. The sooner they were done here the sooner they could get it. I hope we don't have commo black-out now. he thought.
- Written by SPC B---rs, with help from CPL M----e
Here's a quick run down, of the official documentation.. Sensitive parts like the grid was removed. The grid in the story was also changed.
Time: 1130
Date: September 6th 2007
Location: Baghdad, Iraq
Friendly Forces: 2 Snipers; CPL M---e, PFC B---s.
Call sign: Lightning Viper
Enemy Forces: 70+ Wahdy Insurgents
Weapon Systems: 1 M24+ 90 7.62X51 M82
2 M4s + 420 5.56
2 M203 + 20 40MM Grenades
2 M9 + 60 9MM
Enemy: 4 Snipers, 10 Machine Guns, 10 RPGs, 46 AKs
Estimated Enemy Dead: 69
Estimated Friendly Wounded: Unknown
Friendly Dead: 0
Friendly Wounded: 2
Rewards: Both Snipers received the Purple Heart for the injuries they sustained during the 40 minute fight.
-PFC B---s received the Bronze Star with Valor Device for his actions accurately reporting targets, plus engaging and killing an estimated 25 Insurgents.
-CPL M---e received the Silver Star for his actions engaging enemies at far range with the M24 Sniper System, and killing and estimated 34 Insurgents. His efforts also kept the two snipers together during the fight, and his level head helped him make accurate reports to higher command in the rear, also good decisions during the fight to better position himself, and his spotter to be both in a safe and lethal position.
-Both men were ready to engage the enemy in hand to hand combat rather then be caught and taken captive alive.
-These men showed an outstanding display of courage, disregard to personal safety, and heroism, and uphold all standards of the United States Army.
-Together CPL M---e and PFC B---s are credited to a total of 82 shared kills from being in country for a total of 47 days.
Date: September 6th 2007
Location: Baghdad, Iraq
Corporal M. checked his rifle over for the third time in ten minutes. He was always re-checking his gear before mission, and this time was no different.
"Calm down, Colin" his spotter said looking up at him "We've done this 50 times by now man, you're good. Trust me, we're both good."
"Yeah I know man, I'm not worried, it's just a nice idea to be sure I'm good to go. I don't think my wife will be too pleased if I come home in a box because my rifle didn't fire." was his response. They have had this discussion before, and would undoubtedly have it again. It was almost as daily as his PCC's. But for now the young corporal was done. He looked down at the city below him. People were just going by their daily business. A few Humvee's were roaming the streets, but nothing big was happening. Kids were running around the playground. Moore laughed a little as he thought to himself.. It's a war, and kids are out on the swing set.
"Two Minutes, Corporal." the headset crackled as the pilot Cheif Warrent Officer A. announced their progress. They were two minutes out. Two minutes from a boring day trying to pass time and falling victim to countless hours of boredom, till it was time to take their shot. They had come in contact before, but nothing big had really happened. Raids were fun for the first few times, then they became stale and repetitive. Kick in the door, yell at everyone to get down, search the house, come up dry, say sorry and leave. Of course there were a few exceptions in which they stormed a house and made contact. There were those days where RPG's were flying overhead and the enemy was hard charging and up to fight. But most days it was the same. A sniper set one day, and driving down the street waiting to get blown up another. A friend back home asked him about the IED's. He asked how many they find. His response was quick as he shot back
"We find every IED we encounter." He knew what he had gotten into already and waited for the follow up.
"So how do you find them?"
"They blow us up." The conversation had ended there.
"30 Seconds, M." the radio said. M. cursed himself for spacing out, he should be watching the streets below. It's always good to at least get a little bit of a view of the area they would be in. Just in case shit hit the fan, they could make a fast retreat and would have a least a basic idea on which ways were crowded or blocked off. His spotter, Private First Class, Logan B. was spacing out as usual. Probably dreaming about beer. Or maybe home. Probably beer.
"Alright gentlemen" he heard "We've arrived at our final destination. It's time for you to get the fuck out my bird, and please, put your seats in the upright and locked positions. Thank you for flying Peace Keeper 1-3 airlines." M. and B. jumped out quickly and started to move away from the Black Hawk so they could be clear to leave. The longer they were there the more attention they would receive.
The two snipers ran out of their little clearing and into the urban jungle that they would make their fortress. They needed a high building with a good view to see their target. An arms dealer that was driving around the market place dealing out of his trunk. The man was smart in not having one location, it was hard to track him. And with a security detail of over 200 men, he could put up a fight if you wanted to try to take him head on. He fielded a powerful arsenal of grenades, rockets, snipers, machine guns, and AK-47s stockpiled throughout the city. His men could be notified and fighting in less than 15 minutes time. He was a tricky bastard, and thought he was well protected. But not this time, because now he was about to deal with an enemy that was ready to sneak in and kill him from over half a kilometer away. He'd be long dead, and they would be on their way to the extraction point before the people around him heard the shot. If they worked fast enough anyway. Which they would. They had come close before but he slipped away. This time there would be no mistakes. Unfortunately they couldn't get a high building. For some reason, command told them to go on a certain building. It was the first time they had ordered them to do so, and neither men liked the idea. But they had to do what they were ordered.
"Logan, give me ranged on those buildings up there, the marketplace, and the clearing behind us." M. said as he started setting up the spotting scope and rifle.
"Left building 600 meters, Right 450 clearing 750, marketplace 550, and that bridge beyond the clearing, 900.." B. replied shortly after. M. was on the radio talking to X-Ray
"Regulator X-Ray this is Lightning Viper, set at Location Alpha, Grid follows, break" he said into the mic "Grid: Sierra Victor, Two-Two-Five..Two-Nine-Three, how copy, over"
"Viper out" he said again. No doubt X-Ray told him they got the grid and good luck. Just like every time.
M. picked up his M24 sniper rifle and placed the butt stock into his shoulder and started to look at the area. Bowers was scanning with his 20X M49 spotting scope. It was a little old, but Bowers had always preferred it. His dad, a Marine Scout Sniper, had used the very same spotting scope in Desert Storm. Now Bowers continued it's use in Operation Iraqi Freedom. Maybe his son would join the Military and become a sniper. Then he could use the spotting scope in whatever war he fought in. His dad had always asked about the M24, which was the Army's answer to the M40 that his father used during the Gulf War, but there wasn't much differences in the two. They both shot out to about the same distance, both were 7.62, and bolt action. B. wasn't as much of a fan of the M24 as his shooter was. He loved the M107 personally. Something about a .50 Caliber sniper rifle just made him giggle like a school girl whenever M. brought it out. They could punch that beast out to over two kilometers away. The raw power of the rifle was something that everyone would always awe over. He almost felt like a celebrity whenever he came back onto the FOB, walking in with their assault rifles and two, sometimes three, sniper rifles. They were outsiders in the area, Scout Snipers in the 3rd ACR attached to the 10th Mountain Division. The rest of their unit were back in the states still. They weren't supposed to deploy for another two months, and when they did deploy he would have to start his 15 month tour with them. After spending 4 months in Iraq already. Everyone else was on leave, and getting ready to deploy. Half days, and 4 day weekends, Friday BBQ's and platoon parties. He could be home in Indiana with his family this weekend, but instead he was sitting on a low building looking through a twenty powered scope waiting for some guy to come and do his business. The bastard might not even show up, half the time they get Intel it's bad. He scanned to the left and down a little bit. There was a bunch of kids walking towards them. He looked away and pulled out the binoculars, they were closing in fairly fast, but were looking around for something.
"Colin, I got some kids coming in man. They're looking for something it seems."
"They're probably looking for us. These guys heard the chopper come in, so instead of searching for us themselves and risking getting shot, they're sending a bunch of kids to find us."
"You think they'll find us?"
"Oh I know they will."
"Then what do we do?"
"Hope that our guy shows up before the guns do."
"Great.." B. wasn't exactly looking forward to a big fight. Hopefully they'll be out of here soon. He scanned back out to the marketplace just as a car came up. He looked down at the notes he scribbled earlier. "Black BMW, windows tinted." he had written. So the guy was working out of a black BMW, easy enough. At least it wasn't a white car, or pick-up. He could count 50 of those in a matter of seconds. He went back to the car, sure enough it was black with tinted windows. Looked about like a BMW. He looked over at the kids again, they were gone. Then back at the car as the doors started to open.
"I think we got our man."
"I see him, wait for PID." M. picked up the picture they had of the man and looked back into his Leupold 3 1/2 to 10 X scope. Then back at the picture, then through his scope again. "Yep that's him alright. Hit me brother." B. was already scirbbling down notes and looking through his Laser Range Finder.
"Barometric pressure at 30.5, humidity: 83 percent, temperature: 117°... He's 560 meters out.. elevation: five up, 1.5 minutes of angle, wind: 13 mph from two o'clock, deflection: three minutes of angle right and add .5 for spin drift." A few seconds went by as M. dialed in his adjustments. His Leupold had the 1/4 minute adjustments in elevation so he could pretty much zero it to a gnats eye lash if he wanted too. And he did.. He always wanted to make the first shot count. One shot one kill. Then they could get out of there.
"Ready when you are." he said calmly. B. got into his spotting scope and got ready to watch the vapor trail in case M. missed. He hardly missed, but you never knew.
"Punch that shit."
M. took a deep breath and held it as he slowly started to pull back on the trigger. It was set to three pounds, just the way he liked it. There was no detectable trigger movement, but he knew when it would fire. He couldn't hear what was going on around him. He blocked out everything around him. There was nothing but him and the coming shot. The trigger would break smoothly without follow through... He continued to squeeze and the rifle slammed into his shoulder as the muzzle rose just enough from the recoil to loose his target. M. held through the recoil however and the scope dropped back into place. He saw the bullet slam into the arms dealer. His head burst and he fell behind the car, dropping the rifle he was getting ready to sell. His buyer started running fast, not wanting to be the next target for the riflemen over 550 meters away.
"Right in the head, nice shot." B. said.
"Lets pack this shit up, I'm calling up X-Ray for extraction." M. reached for the radio just as the ground in front of his face exploded. Dirt and little pieces of the roof hit his face as the familiar crack of a Dragunov sniper rifle shot reached his ears.
"Sniper!" He heard B.s yell as he was diving for cover. Moore was moving too, before even realizing it. "They shot came from the right, he has to be in those buildings somewhere. I have no clue where though. Any Ideas?" B. yelled trying to figure out away to look.
"I got nothing man, there's too many fucking rooms in there.. I'm trying to see if I see anything, but I got nothing yet." Just as his finished his sentence he heard the whine of an an RPG and looked up to see the rocket flying towards them. Maybe two feet overhead the rocket flew and exploded on the other side of the roof. Shrapnel and concrete flew as M. tried find the gunner. He saw a figure on the roof running and he picked up his rifle. B. was already doing his job.
"He's 450 out and moving, one down one left." M. centered his cross heir on the gunner and then moved to to the left. One dot left one down.. He pulled the trigger and watched the insurgent stumble and drop as the round hit him. Before he looked away another round impacted a foot away from him as the sniper took another shot. "I see him!" B. said with excitement. "Top floor, 5th window from the right!" M. scanned over and sure enough there he was. He put his cross heir on the sniper and pulled. The rifle kicked and the sniper died. Before B. could even report the kill a burst from a machine gun came in. It sounded like an PKD and rounds were landing all around him. It wasn't hard to find the gunner though, and M. dropped him quickly. Hopefully he was the last man. M. relaxed a little as he heard B..
"Uh.. Dude.. I think you should see this." He was obviously worried. It couldn't be good. M. looked over where his spotter was pointing. The alleyway leading down to the marketplace was filled with men coming towards them. But they weren't just moving in a mob. They were staying low, keeping security, moving tactfully, and watching their target. They were trained. M. picked up his binoculars for a closer look at the group. Kalashnikov's were in their hands, and extra magazines were stuffed in wherever they could get them. They were outfitted for a fight. Much more of a fight than either B. or M. were ready for. M. didn't say anything but reached for the handmic.
"Regulator X-Ray, this is Lightning Viper. Target one killed, but we have a situation."
"Viper, this is X-Ray, whats up?"
"We've already taken sniper, RPG, and machine gun fire on our position. Now we have a lot of gunmen advancing on the building, over."
"Roger viper, how many gunmen do you estimate?"
"30"
"13?" X-Ray didn't think 30 could be correct.
"No, dammit, 30"
"13?" X-Ray was still unsure, Moore was getting mad.
"NO! 30! 3-0!"
"Roger, 30 insurgents advancing on your location?"
"Yes, dammit! 30 of them, we're not in any position for a big fight here, call in Renegade and get birds in the air now. We're also requesting QRF."
"Roger, Viper we'll get them up and running, hold." Moore waited on the radio impatiently as rounds started to hit the walls. More RPG, and Machine Gun fire was coming in from the right building now, and X-Ray was sitting on it's ass.
"Viper, this is X-Ray." they finally said
"Roger, go ahead."
"We got birds on the way, it'll be about 20-30 minutes. QRF is held up on something else though, you'll have to hang on till the birds arrive." M. was angry and quiet.
"Roger. Out." He slammed down the radio and picked up his rifle. B. didn't have to say anything, he knew what was going on. He Started calling out shots to his shooter. At the same time he was trying to engage enemies closing in on the house. He didn't have any clear shot, the men advancing were using good cover, making them harder to hit. He tried to just slow them down while Moore shot the men in the buildings around them.
"RPG, 610, at your 11... He's down.. Sniper 610, 11, 4th story.... Machine Gun 450 2, top floor... Another sniper top floor, last window to left..." B. could tell his shooter was being overwhelmed by the targets. He fired several 203 rounds into the houses, nailing each target dead on. He didn't know if he killed the men inside, but at least he rattled them enough to get them to move.
At the same time grenades were being thrown up and onto the roof while the enemies got closer. Both M. and B. threw most of them back. They estimated roughly thirty of them were thrown, but less than 10 exploded. Two managed to go off on the roof, but other then minor shrapnel the two were unhurt. While B. reloaded a magazine he noticed some more men advancing from the clearing in which they landed. There wasn't as many as the other group, but it was enough. He fired into the crowd, but it was too late. They had enough cover to be protected, so he didn't do as much damage as he hoped. He was able to kill three insurgents before being forced to turn back to his shooter, and the 30 men that had stared to storm the house.
M. reloaded his M24 and set the rifle down next to him. He engaged over twenty enemies from the surrounding buildings before the fire had stopped coming from those directions, meaning he probably took most, if not all of them out. Now his problem was the men that were now in the building below them. He picked up his M4 and drew a bead on the door that lead into the house. If the enemy decided to attempt to rush them, they would be ready. They could hear talking coming from inside the house. Sounded like a speech. No doubt someone in charge was telling them how they were going to storm the two Americans upstairs and kill them in cold blood. There was a cheer and M. knew that they were on their way up. He looked over to B. who was aimed at the door not moving. As he turned back towards the door, he saw insurgents start to burst through it. In a hail of fire him and his spotter started firing all they had into the mass of bodies being hurled at them. If anything it reminded him of some weird WWII Japanese attack. Almost Kamikaze in a way.
"Reloading!" B. shrieked over the gunfire. The crack of the AK deafened him more so than the familiar pop of his rifle. He had forgotten to put earplugs in.. It would be the last time he told himself.
Suddenly M. felt something slam into him and his chest burst out in pain as he jumped from the force. Oh my God! he thought to himself.. I'm hit! he felt another round hit his stomach, followed quickly by one more in his chest again. Hit! 3 times! Oh God, I'm going to die if I don't do something!... He looked down at himself, but there was nothing. The rounds, although painful didn't break through his vest. Other then the dull pain of what felt like a baseball bat to the chest and stomach, he was unhurt. Moore picked up his rifle, more determined than ever and started shooting like a madman. It wasn't long before he heard a cry of pain from B.. His spotter was now bleeding from his arm, his ACU's slowly turning a dark red. Good thing it's dark red M. thought.. If it was light it could be arterial. M. looked down at his own arm, and saw that he was bleeding too.. But from when? He didn't know, nor did he care. What was important was that he was hit, but it was minor. His leg was bleeding too, but it didn't hurt him bad enough to take his attention.
It wasn't long before the two shot up the last of the 5.56 ammunition. M. had started engaging close targets with his M24, but he didn't bring many rounds and was empty soon after. With their 9MM pistols drawn they were ready to make one last stand. M. was the first one to go black on ammo, but by that point the fighting had almost stopped. Maybe they had killed them all.. He didn't know. It wasn't long before his question was answered as three more insurgents came up into view. These three were a little more tactical in the sense they were using cover. However B. still made waste to them before running out on ammo as well. The two snipers were down out of ammo, and had no idea how many enemies they had with them. They sat in silence for what felt like forever, both unsure what to do. B. broke the silence first as he drew out the KABAR he received upon the graduation of Sniper School.
"Well, I'm not sure about you, but I'm not looking forward to getting tortured and killed on TV..."
"I'll throw dirt if I have to, but they wont take me without a fight... Hopefully they'll be forced to kill me." M. replied drawing out his own KABAR. He tried to hide the fear in his voice, but he knew that B. could tell. It didn't matter to B. anyway, as he watched his hand shake as it gripped the combat knife tightly. He looked over at his partner, to see him looking at a picture of his wife. A tear rolled down M.'s cheek and hit the weathered picture. The man didn't want to die, he was still young, and was looking forward to spending the rest of his life with his wife. B. looked down and thought about his own girlfriend. What would she think of this? How the hell is Colin's wife going to deal with this? Our parents? Jesus, we're about to die here. 8,000 miles from home on a desert roof...
M. put the picture of his wife back in his pocket and took out his pack of Miami Cigarette's for one last smoke. He got ready to light up, before stopping to think about it. He threw the cheap Iraqi cigarettes down. "If we're going to die, my last smoke isn't going to be this fucking Haji shit." he said reaching into his pocket to grab his metal cigarette case. Inside were two Marlboro Reds. They were the last cigarettes from his last pack before he left the states. Him and B. were planning on smoking them right before going back home. But now it seemed like they were at the end of the line. He passed on to his friend and they both lit up, and as M. smoked he thought about what was going on downstairs. Surely they would be coming up sometime soon. It had been a few minutes already, so what was taking them so long? They could have come up and killed them already. He decided when they did come, he would charge them with his knife. He knew B. would follow suit. The noise from downstairs settled and he figured they would be coming upstairs any second now. He could hear choppers off in the distance, but it didn't matter. There's no way that they could arive in time. He braced himself for what was sure to be his last fight..
But it didn't come. They remained downstairs and the sound of helicopters grew increasingly louder. Then from nowhere two Kiowa's came flying over the building low. Two Apache's came in right behind them. They broke left and he heard the sound of hellfire missiles being shot into a street next to them. A Black Hawk came flying in low. Very low, and slow. He remembered the radio and picked it up.
"Lightning Viper, Lightning Viper, This is Peace Keeper 1-3, do you copy, Over?"
"Peace Keeper 1-3. this is Viper, I got you." He said back.
"Jesus, M., scare me half to death will ya? Get your shit and jump in while I do a pass over. We have to make this go fast, Renegade birds are itching to level the house with hellfire's."
"Roger, Viper out." M. said, picking up his rifles. B. grabbed the spotting scope, and followed M. as he ran to the middle of the roof. The Black Hawk came in low, and slow, and they both jumped in and quickly threw on their headsets. "We're up!" M. yelled in as the pilot started to pick up speed and altitude. He took a sharp right, away from the building.
"I got targets here with RPG's and AK's!" his gunner shouted as he started shooting. B. and M. both looked with awe as the Mini gun tore into the targets below. Hellfire missiles impacted on the house and it went up in a cloud of dust and debris. If anyone was inside, they were dead now,.
"M., I've flown you and B. to damn near every one of your OP's." CW5 A. said. "You guys try to pull another stunt like this, and I'm going to be pissed. I like y'all, don't go dying on me now." M. couldn't do anything but laugh as he watched the ground below him blur together.
When they landed, they were greeted by LtCol. P. as he shook their hands. "Impressive work, gentlemen. That may just be the largest fight this year. You guys may have just made history. I'm not sure how big you guys realize this is. It's huge."
"Quite frankly, sir, I'm not sure we want to know." B. replied. "It's just a job."
"You don't understand." The officer said again. "Do you think I come down here to meet everybody who went out on patrol, or made contact?"
"No." M. said, "So what did we do that was so amazing?"
"Well, I'm glad you asked, Corporal." P. said with a grin. "What it looks like to me, is two snipers made contact with overwhelming odds, both suffered injuries, and both did their duty to engage and destroy an enemy that tried to throw everything they had at them. Now, I'm not sure on the numbers, but we were watching with a UAV. If I counted right, you guys killed over 50 men. Maybe even over 60. The Choppers killed several too, meaning you were probably being engaged by over 70 men. 70 fucking men, against two. They weren't stupid or ill equip either. 70 trained men, against two. If that doesn't send a fucking message I don't know what will."
"Well sir," M. said as medics started to cut away at his pant legs and jacket "Let me know what the count is, I'm sure the outside world will be very interested."
"Oh, they might not give a shit about how many you killed, or the fact that you were wounded. But I think they'll care about Purple Hearts, and other Medals. I'm putting you guys in for some. Bronze star with Valor at the least."
"Sir, really that isn't.."
"Horse shit, guys have gotten more for less. You deserve it. You deserve some time off, some R&R. I'm giving you two the hook-up. Get patched up, call home, and get some rest. Tomorrow come by the TOC and we'll talk some more."
"Yes, sir." was all M. said as more medics rushed over to get him inside the CSH. B. was already on his way in. M. didn't even care anymore, he just felt like calling home and getting some sleep. The sooner they were done here the sooner they could get it. I hope we don't have commo black-out now. he thought.
- Written by SPC B---rs, with help from CPL M----e
Here's a quick run down, of the official documentation.. Sensitive parts like the grid was removed. The grid in the story was also changed.
Time: 1130
Date: September 6th 2007
Location: Baghdad, Iraq
Friendly Forces: 2 Snipers; CPL M---e, PFC B---s.
Call sign: Lightning Viper
Enemy Forces: 70+ Wahdy Insurgents
Weapon Systems: 1 M24+ 90 7.62X51 M82
2 M4s + 420 5.56
2 M203 + 20 40MM Grenades
2 M9 + 60 9MM
Enemy: 4 Snipers, 10 Machine Guns, 10 RPGs, 46 AKs
Estimated Enemy Dead: 69
Estimated Friendly Wounded: Unknown
Friendly Dead: 0
Friendly Wounded: 2
Rewards: Both Snipers received the Purple Heart for the injuries they sustained during the 40 minute fight.
-PFC B---s received the Bronze Star with Valor Device for his actions accurately reporting targets, plus engaging and killing an estimated 25 Insurgents.
-CPL M---e received the Silver Star for his actions engaging enemies at far range with the M24 Sniper System, and killing and estimated 34 Insurgents. His efforts also kept the two snipers together during the fight, and his level head helped him make accurate reports to higher command in the rear, also good decisions during the fight to better position himself, and his spotter to be both in a safe and lethal position.
-Both men were ready to engage the enemy in hand to hand combat rather then be caught and taken captive alive.
-These men showed an outstanding display of courage, disregard to personal safety, and heroism, and uphold all standards of the United States Army.
-Together CPL M---e and PFC B---s are credited to a total of 82 shared kills from being in country for a total of 47 days.
If true, Bronze Stars, even with "V" is an insult for their heroic actions.
ReplyDeleteIf not deserving of a Medal of Honor, the least they deserve would be Navy Crosses.
Ditto's Lew.
ReplyDeleteNavy Crosses for both at the least with attached recommendations for upgrades to MOH.
M24 bolt short action with a 5 round magazine? Damn that is outstanding.
A very remarkable story Norm!
Remarkable indeed. Does the 10th Mountain really use grunts for snipers? That is an intense MOS...
ReplyDeleteBut it's a good story, and no doubt is based on facts....