Hunters: U.S. Snipers in the War on Terror (15 page)

Early on June 21, Santiago and Tommy prepared for their missions. It was Santiago’s birthday, and his team shared pound cake from an MRE before leaving. Everyone enjoyed some, except Tommy. He was still sulking about the situation. Santiago wanted to cheer him up, but let him have his space.

Under darkness, the teams crept quietly through the city. Within hours they were in their respective positions. Santiago led Headhunter Two Alpha, and he monitored the radio from a building close to where the mortar men were suspected to be.

A few hundred yards away, Tommy, leading Headhunter Two Bravo, reached his building and started observation. With everyone using the same radio frequency, the teams sent radio checks to the battalion, as was the operating procedure.

Everything went as planned, but after sunrise Tommy’s team had not made a radio check. Santiago noticed, as did the battalion, who tried reaching them, but with no answer. The problem could have been a number of things. No communications usually meant someone was not paying attention or that the radio had gone down. Usually it was the latter, but either way, as the team leader, it annoyed Santiago. He didn’t want his snipers to get a bad reputation. He figured it to be only a matter of time before the team made contact, but when Tommy did not respond over his handheld radio, which only the snipers used, Santiago began to worry.

Within hours Echo Company diverted a nearby foot patrol to Tommy’s position. Around 11:30 A.M. on June 22, Santiago and his team heard a devastating radio transmission.

“We need a corpsman here!” someone exclaimed.

“We have four marines, KIA!”

Over the radio, they learned that Tommy and his team were dead.

At first Santiago doubted his ears. The news did not seem right, but tears filled his eyes as the truth dawned on him. His teammates were shocked, wondering how it could have happened. They were unaware of the gruesome scene on Tommy’s rooftop.

One marine had multiple gunshot wounds, while the others had been shot in the head; one also had had his throat cut. Tommy was found in the fetal position, wearing no body armor or boots; the marine near him lay on his side, covered in a mosquito netting to fend off the bugs. They were believed to have been resting, normal for the team members not designated on watch. The marine with the most wounds, a corporal who had survived other bloody attacks, had gunshot holes in his hands, signaling a defensive struggle. Another marine lay on his back, also appearing to have put up a fight. Everyone who knew him knew that he carried four throwing knives, and one was missing. The walls around them had bullet holes, and their gear, the radio, thermal devices, weapons, ammunition, and other equipment were missing, including the prized M40A1 sniper rifle.

The loss was unimaginable, but so were the circumstances surrounding the event. How could four marines be killed without hurting even one of their attackers? Had the marines all been asleep? Did it matter that none of them were actual school-trained snipers? These questions and more were answered after Naval Criminal Investigative Service completed a thorough investigation.

The attack was planned. Intercepted cell phone traffic indicated that the enemy had asked permission to “do these marines.” Sometime after sunrise, four attackers made their way onto the roof. Santiago believes that they could have been posing as construction workers, because usually the marines placed a metal guard against the door to the roof to alert them of any invaders, whom they would have surely met with gunfire. Sometimes, though, they allowed workers to pass through to get to their site. He also suspected that the men used suppressed weapons, as not one Marine unit had heard gunshots. Santiago’s team was a few hundred yards away, and Combat Outpost was eight hundred yards away.

The loss severely wounded Santiago. Though others blamed Tommy for the outcome, as the team leader, Santiago felt responsible for it all. Survivor’s guilt and heartache consumed and changed him. For the rest of his time in Iraq, he wasn’t completely normal, willing to die rather than let another one of his marines get injured. Even later, when a form of redemption was brought about by a fellow Marine sniper, he still would not be able to live it down.

Within the next two years grainy footage of insurgent marksmen began to surface. An enemy sniper calling himself Juba or the Baghdad Sniper posted Internet videos of his attacks on U.S. and Iraqi troops. The footage showed a series of individuals being tracked and shot by the sniper, who was not shy about his allegiance to the Islamic Army in Iraq, an extremely brutal band of terrorists responsible for beheadings and killings of journalists and civilians. The sniper acted on behalf of this group, whose main focus was combating foreigners in Iraq, especially the U.S.-led coalition.

In California, Marine snipers became aware of the videos. Any chance to learn about the enemy without facing them was a treat. If this Juba was stupid enough to show his methods, the snipers would take full advantage.

One Marine sniper watching was Sergeant AJ Pasciuti. He, just like other snipers preparing for Iraq, wanted to see what he was up against. His team examined Juba’s videos and noticed a few common factors.

Juba’s tactics were simple and seemingly effective, but his target range was not exceptional. In all of the clips, as the sniper fired his weapon, the camera jumped, implying that he shot from a confined area. The Marine team noticed that often the camera moved away from the scene after the shooting, leading them to believe the sniper was shooting from vehicles. Pasciuti also noticed something peculiar but kept it to himself. In one scene the sniper waved a Browning high-powered .45-caliber pistol in the air. The Browning was a very uncommon weapon in Iraq, especially in the hands of an insurgent.

At the time, Pasciuti was an unlikely veteran at twenty-one years old. Normally, Sunnyvale, California, the heart of Silicon Valley and Pasciuti’s hometown, produced tech-savvy software designers, different from what he wanted to become. He knew right away after 9/11 that becoming a Marine was his destiny, and by the time he could legally drink beer, he had become a product of the First Marine Division Scout/Sniper School.

Physically, he was not the most gifted, but what he lacked in strength, he made up for in heart. This was a trait that followed him through his challenges in the Marine Corps. It helped him to get past boot camp and into the Dark Horse, Third Battalion, Fifth Marines as a rifleman. In 2003, it also helped him through his first taste of combat.

During the invasion of Iraq, Pasciuti used the M203 40mm single-shot grenade launcher. When his unit crossed the border into Iraq, his young-man perception of war and glory soon faded, and the reality of death and fighting wracked his nerves.

There in Iraq, he experienced a pivotal moment in his life. He witnessed Marine snipers in action one day when his company moved to destroy a suspected terrorist training camp on their way to Baghdad. Pasciuti, watching enemy muzzle flashes from the camp, had taken cover behind a dirt mound when suddenly, a few yards away, two Marine snipers appeared and began targeting the shooter. Their weapons and equipment were different, but what intrigued the infantrymen was their calm demeanor.

The two snipers easily found their target and Pasciuti never forgot what he saw next. The snipers tracked the enemy soldier while Pasciuti looked on through his four-powered ACOG (Advanced Combat Optical Gun Sight). The distance seemed astounding to Pasciuti. It was more amazing when the marine put a bullet in the soldier’s head, causing him to crumble forward. The snipers’ precision awed Pasciuti, and the next morning when the marines swept through the camp, he came across the dead soldier still lying there. At that moment his goal was to be as lethal and precise as the snipers he had witnessed. He wanted to become a HOG.

When the marines returned home, Paciuti’s role changed to that of company clerk. It was miserable for him, but he soon found a way out through the scout/sniper indoc. The company first sergeant initially refused his request for sniper school, but when the company gunny heard of it, he gave Pasciuti the advice of his life.

“Listen here,” he said, “I’m not going to tell you what to do, but every man is responsible for his own destiny. If you’re not here on Monday morning, I’ll know where you’re at.”

Pasciuti took full advantage of the tryout. It began at 0300 on Monday morning and lasted less than a week, but in that time the numbers dwindled from forty to less than twenty. Though pushed to his physical and mental limits, Pasciuti held strong. This paid off with his acceptance into the platoon. It was an unimaginable honor, and he vowed to show that he was worthy of the selection.

Soon afterward, the sniper platoon mustered for a battalion formation. Everyone was told about the four-man sniper team killed in Ar Ramadi, Iraq. It was a somber day for the snipers. Some of them knew others snipers in the Second Battalion, Fourth Marines, a sister battalion which they often trained with. When he heard the news, Pasciuti knew right away that he never wanted anything like that announced about him.

In late 2004, his second deployment landed him in Fallujah. His team, Banshee Two, was led by Sergeant Blake Cole, and after knowing him, Pasciuti saw Sergeant Cole as one of the most complete and intelligent snipers he had ever met. Cole taught Pasciuti more about sniping than anyone else. It definitely helped that his instruction took place in the city of Fallujah, a snipers’ dream-land at the time. Training covered everything from urban hides and patrolling, multiple target engagement, to enemy observation while on the job fighting real bad guys. That experience made Pasciuti successful during sniper school.

When he returned home, Pasciuti was given a shot at First Marine Division Scout/Sniper School. He had a plan; he wanted to go through the school unnoticed, but unfortunately one of the instructors took a liking to him. Anywhere else, this would have been beneficial, but for sniper school, it meant that he would become more physically fit.

By the end of the course, his heart and perseverance were rewarded. Pasciuti received the prestigious “Honor Graduate” award for the highest grade point average of the class. He was also chosen to receive the “Instructor’s Choice” award, which is presented to the marine whom the instructors choose as the top all-around sniper.

After graduation, Pasciuti returned to his unit and began training for Iraq. Excitement about the next deployment buzzed among the team because of the quality of all their teammates. Sergeant Jimmy Proudman, the team leader, brought a strong leadership presence as the most seasoned sniper and had the confidence of his entire team. Pasciuti was the assistant team leader, with Scardino and Ramsey rounding out the team. The four of them were all school-trained snipers with combat experience. Pasciuti was excited to deploy as a HOG. Little did he know that all of his training and experience would help him to make history.

In early 2006, Pasciuti returned to Iraq. His unit arrived and stayed at Camp Fallujah before moving fifteen miles south to the town of Al Amiriyah. This rural town had welcomed displaced Fallujah residents during Pasciuti’s last trip to Iraq in 2004. When the marines arrived, the hold of al-Qaeda on the locals in Iraq began to slip after the people recognized the insurgents’ disregard for innocent life.

Al Amiriyah is where Pasciuti formed his fondest memories of sniping. His team anxiously set out, wasting no time before running missions. Days after they arrived, though, bad news hit the battalion when two marines died from an IED; one had been a friend of Pasciuti’s since boot camp. The marine took shrapnel in the neck and died instantly. It was a tough blow for everyone. The death of his friend was heart-wrenching, and Pasciuti couldn’t shake the thought of it. He just hoped for a chance to spot IED layers.

That afternoon, his team set up with the infantry in an observation position close to the spot of the explosion. He was focused on the road while making small talk with Jimmy. A dust storm had formed on the horizon when, near the road, two men appeared carrying what looked to be cinder blocks. The two snipers focused in, and when one of the men began to dig, Pasciuti called the situation to higher, requesting permission to engage.

When they received clearance, both Jimmy and Pasciuti took aim. They used different sniper rifles; Pasciuti clutched the newer MK11, preferring its semi-auto ability, while Jimmy used the more traditional bolt action M40A3.

At three hundred yards, the IED culprits were not a difficult shot. Pasciuti put his crosshairs center mass on the man bending over, placing the bomb in the ground. Jimmy kept his sights on the other one. As in training, they planned to shoot simultaneously, and another marine did the honors of counting down for them.

On cue, the snipers released their poison. The MK11’s recoil is nothing, allowing Pasciuti to see his target almost immediately. The bullet tore through the rib cage, and the man painfully reached for his side before falling. Unknown to the marines, the two IED layers had backup, who opened fire on them. This drew heavy return fire from the Marine snipers. Pasciuti had noticed others trying to help the two wounded men on the road, when a truck arrived and loaded the bodies in the back before disappearing. The marines later recovered an IED from the scene. This was the first engagement for the battalion and Banshee Two, but it was just one of many to come.

After a month on the south side of the town, the team decided to investigate farther north. Coalition Forces had not patrolled those areas in some time, and it was thought that insurgents moved within that area unprotested. The decision paid off as one day, while on a mission, Pasciuti found himself closer to the enemy than he would like to have been.

Two sniper teams joined together for the operation. The mission allowed the snipers to search for targets of opportunity in the unattended area. On the first day, they prepared a quality hide deep inside the thick vegetation near the Euphrates River. Ghillie suits let them blend in perfectly with the tall grass surrounding them.