9.
Born-Again Sniper
After General Garrison had thrown the BS flag on all of JSOC’s snipers, both SEAL and Delta operators, we saw the light: There’s no way we could make that 800-yard shot every time under any condition—one of us was so far off that he hit the windowsill. We repented of our sins by spending a month coming up with what we could actually do every single time regardless of climate, time of day, fatigue (which plays a big part), slant, elevation, country, hemorrhoids, etc. Shooting on rainy days, cold days, crawling out of the sewer—we tried it all. We were born again, “We can make a body shot on land at five hundred yards every single time under every condition.” Each day, every sniper would go to the range and shoot his ten rounds—and he better have a killing shot: eight out of ten in the outer five-ring and at least two in the inner four-ring on an FBI-regulation target.
* * *
SEAL Team Six held a shoot-off to determine its best sniper. Out of the eighteen snipers there, I came in first. That didn’t go over well with the snipers who’d been around longer than I had. Country, who had been in Team Six a year longer than me, came in second. From Alabama, he was a big, fun-loving good ol’ boy with sandy brown hair who often spoke in his native southern drawl about hunting—what he killed, how he prepared it, and how it tasted. Probably started hunting when he was ten years old. Unlike me, he had more shooting experience from childhood. That experience can be a double-edged sword, though. Some snipers have to unlearn bad habits.
SEAL Team Six sent Country and me as a two-man team to the big sniper competition on the Delta compound in North Carolina. Each of the other SEAL Teams also sent their best two. So did Delta, Ranger (a rapid army light infantry unit that can fight against conventional and special operations targets) battalions, FBI Hostage Rescue Team (HRT), Secret Service, the local Cumberland County Sheriff’s Department, and others.
Each morning at the Delta range, we started out doing a cold-bore shot from 200 yards on a clay pigeon, a small target made of pitch and pulverized limestone rock in the size and shape of an inverted saucer, taped on a white silhouette target. For Country and me, it was an easy shot. When the bullet struck, the clay pigeon sprayed into dust. Everybody who missed had to buy a case of beer. The FBI and Secret Service snipers bought a case of beer almost every day.
We also did an unknown-distance cold-bore shot—the hardest—using no laser range finder. After the target popped up, we identified it as friend or foe, shooting enemies before they ducked out of sight. In slant range shooting, we shot from high in a building down to a target—requiring a calculation different from other shots.
In another event we had to run to a position, set up in a sniper hide, and shoot. Country ran up the four-story building with my rifle and set it up. I ascended the stairs behind him. Because I didn’t have the extra weight of my weapon, when I arrived in position, I could calm down my breathing more quickly—within a few seconds. Clearing my mind to think about nothing had become automatic. I squeezed off the shot at a target across from me in another building—bull’s-eye.
Our long-range event ranged from 500 to 750 yards to the target. Only a few teams could really compete at that distance: SEAL Team Six, Delta, some Rangers, and the Department of Energy (DoE) nuclear power plant (they had great training and equipment) sniper pairs.
Country and I became the top sniper team at the competition—until the morning of the last day. We finished some preliminary shots. I spotted one target for Country, and he engaged it. Then I spotted another target.
Country had his crosshairs on the target, and as he squeezed the trigger, the hostage target moved. “Damn!”
“What?” I asked.
“I think I just grazed the Hotel.” “Hotel” meant hostage.
If we had not shot at all, we would have scored zero points, still having enough points to win the competition. Even though it wasn’t a killing shot, we still lost ten points for nicking a hostage. The winning sniper pair included a Ranger who had gone to marine sniper school with me in Quantico. I think Delta came in second. The Savannah River Department of Energy sniping team placed third. Do not mess with DoE nuclear sites.
Even though Country and I lost big points for that mistake, we still finished fourth overall. In the Teams, though, fourth only means third-place loser. Country and I were not pleased. The FBI HRTs and Secret Service finished last—even behind the good ol’ boys from the local sheriff’s department. Even so, it’s better to make mistakes during training and learn from them. For me, the next shots would be for real.
