Hunters: U.S. Snipers in the War on Terror (16 page)

In the afternoon Pasciuti and the team’s corpsman held security and observation. All was silent as Pasciuti monitored the radio. He used a pocketknife to clean his fingernails while facing the corpsman. Suddenly the bushes behind the corpsman moved. Pasciuti lifted his head and noticed two men walking straight for him. One clutched a black object in his hands, but they both had AKs slung on their backs and quickly closed in on the hide.

The men were oblivious to the snipers. Pasciuti sat motionless while the men walked straight toward him. No one else in the team had seen them. Within seconds, the men were close enough to step on the corpsman’s back. Just before they did, however, Pasciuti yelled, jumped up, and lunged at them with his knife.

The men were scared senseless. They had no idea what they were looking at; in their mind a bush had just screamed and was coming at them with a blade. The rest of the team reached for their weapons as the men turned and ran, followed by Pasciuti. After a few yards Pasciuti came to his senses.

“I’m taking a knife to a gunfight!” he thought.

Behind him, Jimmy and another sniper, Ramsey, stood up and aimed in with their M4s. By this time, the two men were running at a dead sprint and had split up. One went left while the other broke right.

Another Marine team member, Scardino, stood with the SAW and let loose on the man running to the left, who tried making it behind a building. Scardino’s machine gun dropped him in mid stride.

Jimmy and Ramsey unleashed on the man to the right. Pasciuti watched Jimmy and Ramsey test the battalion gunner’s new theory of target engagement. He had explained that shooting a target near the waist, around the pelvis area, would immobilize the individual, because that area has the largest bone mass in the human body. The gunner’s theory worked. Jimmy and Ramsey left the insurgent crawling after a few shots.

The snipers inspected the bodies. Jimmy and Ramsey’s target had bled to death from bullet wounds to his lower back and hips. The black object that Pasciuti had seen earlier turned out to be a video camera, a big score for the marines. From it, they learned that the men were part of a local IED cell, and the video instructed others on how to make the explosives, described techniques for burying the bombs, and gave reconnaissance of potential areas for emplacing them.

In the short months that Banshee Two lived in Amiriyah, they racked up seven kills. They stopped and revealed enemy tactics on IEDs there, but the battalion transferred to a nearby town, a place where the enemy had their own hunters.

The marines moved to Habbaniyah, a town fifty-five miles west of Baghdad, between Ramadi and Fallujah. Establishing a presence along the main road from Fallujah, through Habbaniyah to Ramadi, became the battalion’s first order of business. IEDs and ambushes reigned freely along the road. Stopping them was a challenge because of the sheer distance involved. For snipers, the mission called for their keen skill of attention to details.

At the new base, the marines learned of an enemy sniper on the loose. He was accurate and careful in his methods, and a formidable shooter. One day he struck a soldier in a guard tower just before sundown. At changeover, the soldier was about to leave but remembered his binoculars sitting on a ledge. Camouflage netting covered his position, but the binos were outside of it. As he reached from the covering, his hand was exposed, giving the enemy sniper a perfect target. The soldier’s hand was mincemeat. Pasciuti knew that he had to be careful there; any slipup could cost his life.

In the following months, Pasciuti’s team took to observation. They lived and shuffled through observation posts up and down the main route and helped sniff out IEDs. Their advantage was in their optics, thermals, and scoped rifles, but unfortunately, as skilled as they were, Pasciuti’s team could not see into dead space. These were areas blocked by terrain or man-made objects, but the marines scattered amtracks (amphibious assault vehicles) or tanks near them, making for an impenetrable chain of surveillance—or so they thought.

It all came to a head one day after a crafty attack by insurgents. It began with an IED on an amtrack. The snipers could not help, but other marines in a nearby amtrack left their position and raced to the scene. The marines had suffered only minor injuries, and the amtrack returned to its original spot, only to be met with another IED, which caused no serious injures. The insurgents had taken advantage of the gap in the lines and planted a bomb when the second amtrack left its position. It was a good strike, but Pasciuti’s team would have their revenge.

Pasciuti and Jimmy knew what to do. They pitched a bait mission to the company commander, but instead of people, the bait would be the absence of military presence. Their idea called for Pasciuti and Jimmy to take two teams while under darkness, into certain buildings. In the morning, an amtrack would show up as usual, but later it would race away as if responding to an emergency, thus appearing to leave a gap in the lines. While it was gone, the snipers would keep an eye out for any insurgents.

The captain was convinced, and the mission was approved. That night the two sniper teams, each with four infantrymen as security, executed the plan and slipped into separate buildings to cover more ground. Once set, Pasciuti broke his team up and made two sniper positions. Pasciuti’s position pointed toward the main road, while in another room his assistant team leader covered another sector. Jimmy and his team did the same in their building, enabling all of the snipers to cover a tremendous amount of land.

At 0700 the next morning, the amtrack arrived, and a short time later it sped away, setting the trap. Before noon, Pasciuti took the rifle while his spotter, Doc Barth, headed downstairs to use the bathroom. Sergeant Kevin Homestead, the infantrymen’s squad leader, eagerly replaced him. Kevin had worked with the snipers before and jumped at the chance to spot when Pasciuti asked him. It was not every day that infantrymen peeked into sniper operations.

Ten minutes later, another amtrack rolled into the area. Pasciuti overheard their call sign and raised them on the radio to inform them of his group’s presence.

“Red One, this is Banshee Four. Just a heads-up. We’re running a mission out here,” he said.

“Roger that, Banshee Four. We’re well aware. We’re gonna hang out here for a few minutes and then we’ll be on our way.”

In the building, Pasciuti dropped the handset and resumed scanning the street below. Outside, an avenue ran straight from his building to the main road, where the amtrack remained. Moving nearest to farthest, he thoroughly inspected people on the streets—cars, windows, and everything else—just as sniper school had taught him. Minutes later, he came across a car. At first he did not see anything out of the ordinary and almost moved on, but suddenly, from a small window behind the rear passenger door, a glare caught his eye. He took a better look by adjusting his scope, and immediately recognized a video camera, which faced the amtrack. It dawned on him what was happening. Insurgents loved to tape their attacks for propaganda, especially IED attacks.

“Red One! Red One! You need to button up! You’re being observed!” he yelled, hoping to get the marines in the amtrack out of harm’s way.

“What’s that, Banshee Four?” was the reply.

“Red One! Button up right now! Something is gonna happen! You’re being videotaped!”

The marines in the track took cover and sealed the hatches right away. Pasciuti found the distance to the car and dialed his scope to 284 yards. Rules of engagement stated that anyone with such equipment in those circumstances fell under hostile intent, allowing the snipers to engage. Because their hide was exceptional, under the circumstances, Pasciuti did not want to give his position away and decided on other methods of engagement.

At first, Pasciuti wanted air support to destroy the car, but he had none on station. He switched to artillery and called in a mission, but nearby, the battalion commander heard the transmission and pinpointed Pasciuti’s location. He denied the use of artillery because of a nearby mosque and the potential for collateral damage. Next, Pasciuti tried persuading mortars, but he was denied for the same reason. Finally he called Red One, telling them to engage the car, but they were unwilling, as well.

Meanwhile, the company commander heard everything.

“Banshee Four, take that shot!” he yelled over the radio.

“Pasciuti! Pasciuti! Look!” said Sergeant Homestead, tapping him on the shoulder. Pasciuti sighted in on the car in time to see a hand adjusting the camera. He knew that at any second, the man could strike, and with visual confirmation of someone inside, Pasciuti prepared to engage.

The car sat almost horizontal to their building. Pasciuti aimed in while Homestead spotted, using binoculars. After a deep exhalation, the sniper let the crosshairs settle just above the camera, hoping to hit anyone behind it. Knowing that shooting through glass would throw the bullet off course, his goal was to shatter the glass with the first shot and get the kill with the follow-up round.

After a countdown, Pasciuti let his bullets fly. His first shot hit six inches above the camera. The small window had an opening now and the final two shots were a tad lower. When he finished shooting, the buildings around them erupted with the sound of women wailing and crying. The neighbors must have thought that the snipers were executing the family inside the house, but within seconds all went quiet except for chatter over the radio.

By now, all units knew the situation. Pasciuti rolled off his gun to direct the track onto the car. He told Sergeant Homestead to get behind the sniper rifle just in case anything happened. Homestead was not a sniper or even in the sniper platoon, but Pasciuti needed him to hold security while he reported his actions. Just as Pasciuti began to speak, Homestead noticed a man walking up to the car.

“Pasciuti, look!” he said anxiously.

Pasciuti saw the man calmly stroll up to the driver’s side door.

“If he touches that car, shoot ’im,” said Pasciuti.

The man hurried to the car and opened the driver’s door. Before he climbed in, he glanced into the backseat, just as Homestead fired on him. The bullet struck him below the armpit, dropping him to his knees while he looked for the shooter. Pain was written on his face, and Homestead’s second shot hit him in the sternum. Surprisingly, he crawled into the car and lay on the center console. When he stopped moving, Pasciuti relieved Homestead and got back on his own weapon.

At that angle, Pasciuti did not have a great view of the man except for his legs. He put a bullet into both of the man’s knees to prevent his running away.

Minutes later, the track rolled up. After surrounding the vehicle, the squad leader approached it, while Pasciuti spoke to him over the radio, guiding him to the camera in the backseat. Pasciuti watched while the marine waved the camera in the air.

Blood filled the cab of the car. The man in the backseat had died almost instantly, while his friend took a few minutes to pass on. The marine inspecting noticed something else.

“Hey, there’s a weapon in here,” said the squad leader. He handed the rifle to another marine, who almost put it in the track, until Pasciuti noticed the butt stock. Once he saw it, he froze.

“Wait, Red One. Show me that weapon,” he said over the radio.

Any Marine sniper would have recognized it. The rifle’s stock looked exactly like the McMillan fiberglass stock of the M40A1 made specifically for Marine scout/snipers. The marine held it in the air, and Pasciuti asked him a question to be sure.

“Red One, look for a serial number on the barrel near the stock. Does it begin with E676?” said Pasciuti.

“Roger, that is affirmative. It reads E676. Remington 700,” was the reply.

Pasciuti was shocked and overjoyed. Killing an enemy sniper was one thing, but one using a Marine sniper’s rifle was even more gratifying. From that, he realized how the enemy employed their sniper teams. The insurgent’s sniper tactics called for the spotter to exit the car to draw less attention to the vehicle; then the sniper would shoot, and record the action. After hearing the shots, the spotter would then get back in and drive the vehicle away. It was a clever method until then.

Later, the marines pulled the car to base for inspection. They discovered a hidden compartment in the trunk, revealing grenades, U.S. machine gun ammunition, fake passports, and a Browning high-powered .45-cal pistol, exactly like the one Pasciuti noticed in the Juba video. From the bodies, IDs were recovered, leaving Pasciuti with an impression about the shooter’s background. He was clean-shaven, nicely dressed, with no prior record, a real professional.

Days later, Pasciuti shot the recovered rifle. The Unertl scope used by Marine snipers was missing, and Pasciuti understood that the last marine using the rifle must have done his job and destroyed it. Instead, a crude Tasco 3-9 power scope was mounted, but after firing the gun, Pasciuti felt that any shooter could have gotten the job done with it. At one hundred yards the bullet hit half a minute right, or half an inch to the right. Insurgent snipers hardly shot farther than that, and by default, the shooter must have been deadly with it. Pasciuti wondered if the man he killed could have been Juba.

When Pasciuti’s deployment was finished, he learned that the rifle belonged to Tommy Parker from the Second Battalion, Fourth Marines, the team leader of the fallen sniper team in Ramadi in 2004. Pasciuti saved the chambered bullet, and with the rifle, he made a plaque and presented it to the Fifth Marine regiment headquarters.

The contrast of the success and failure of the two teams is a strong lesson for any sniper. After Tommy’s incident, many sniper teams were forced to operate in no less than six-man teams, making for a bigger footprint and a greater chance of compromise. Regardless of fault, lessons can be learned from this tragic incident—namely that snipers thrive when allowed to think on their own. They should be employed according to their skill set and should never be forced to operate against sniper doctrine.