Inside the Crosshairs Read online

  Inside the Crosshairs

  Michael Lee Lanning

  “The American sniper could be regarded as the greatest all-around rifleman the world has ever known….”

  At the start of the war in Vietnam, the United States had no snipers; by the end of the war, Marine and army precision marksmen had killed more than 10,000 NVA and VC soldiers—the equivalent of an entire division—at the cost of under 20,000 bullets, proving that long-range shooters still had a place in the battlefield. Now noted military historian Michael Lee Lanning shows how U.S. snipers in Vietnam—combining modern technology in weapons, ammunition, and telescopes—used the experience and traditions of centuries of expert shooters to perfect their craft.

  To provide insight into the use of American snipers in Vietnam, Lanning interviewed men with combat trigger time, as well as their instructors, the founders of the Marine and U.S. Army sniper programs, and the generals to whom they reported. Backed by hard information and firsthand accounts, the author demonstrates how the skills these one-shot killers honed in the jungles of Vietnam provided an indelible legacy that helped save American lives in Grenada, the Gulf War, and Somalia and continues to this day with American troops in Bosnia.

  [Best viewed with CoolReader.]

  Michael Lee Lanning

  INSIDE THE CROSSHAIRS

  Snipers in Vietnam

  To

  Gerald Hugh “Gerry” Corcoran

  Map

  CHAPTER 1

  All in a Day’s Work: The Single Well-Aimed Shot

  As a “different” kind of war, Vietnam required tactics, operational procedures, and weapons uniquely adapted for the conflict. The U.S. Army and Marine Corps especially had to constantly adjust fighting concepts—revamping tried-and-true techniques and designing innovative methods—to counter an enemy whose operations varied from Vietcong hit-and-run guerrilla tactics to North Vietnamese Army multi-division offensives.

  Of all these adjustments and changes during the war, one of the most effective, and certainly the most economical, was the use of individual marksmen known as snipers. While taking advantage of individual marksmanship skills was clearly not new to warfare, the way the U.S. military developed the expertise to new standards in Southeast Asia certainly was. In terms of the efficiency they achieved, army and Marine marksmen consistently engaged and killed enemy soldiers at ranges often exceeding 800 meters with a single round from special, telescope-equipped rifles. From the densely forested mountain highlands near the Demilitarized Zone to the open spaces of the watery Mekong River Delta, American snipers consistently downed enemy soldiers before their targets even heard the crack of their rifles.

  In terms of economics, the innovative use of snipers in Vietnam meant that virtually every bullet produced a body count—a statistic drastically different from bullet-to-body ratios for other wars and other infantrymen in Vietnam. Studies of frontline combat during World War II reveal that U.S. troops expended 25,000 small arms rounds for every enemy soldier they killed. In the Korean War the number doubled to 50,000 rounds per enemy death. By the time the United States went to war in Southeast Asia, technological advances in weapons had made it possible to place a fully automatic rifle in the hands of every American infantryman, and the firepower of fully automatic “rock and roll” resulted in the expenditure of 200,000 rounds of ammunition for every enemy body.

  Army and Marine snipers, on the other hand, produced a dead enemy for nearly every round fired. U.S. snipers in Vietnam averaged one kill for every 1.3 to 1.7 rounds expended. According to Lieutenant General John H. Hay Jr., who commanded the army’s 1st Infantry Division in 1967 and wrote Tactical and Material Innovations as a part of the Department of the Army’s Vietnam Studies series in 1974, “The use of snipers was not new in Vietnam, but the systematic training and employment of an aggressive, offensive sniper team—a carefully designed ‘weapon system’—was. A sniper was no longer just the man in the rifle squad who carried the sniper rifle; he was the product of an established school.”

  Yet, when the United States entered the Vietnam War, it had no trained snipers or sniper units. Although the military had organized, trained, and fielded snipers during earlier U.S. conflicts, sniper units had been quickly disbanded and the shooters discharged or returned to the ranks of the infantry when peace returned. Expert marksmen, who could fire with no warning and kill with a single shot, were necessities of war that, at times of peace, a “fair-minded” American society preferred to forget ever existed.

  But at war again, both services recognized the need to renew sniper training. The Marines fielded their first sniper teams in Vietnam in October 1965; the army, a bit slower, did not begin in-country sniper training until the spring of 1968. In the meantime, a few expert Army riflemen secured sniper weapons left over from the Korean War and rifles used by marksmanship competition teams to unofficially begin adapting to the unique war zone.

  Even though policy eventually caught up with practicality and snipers received official sanction and support, what became one of the war’s most efficient ‘weapon systems” was ultimately the direct result of the individual men behind the scopes. These men met the established criteria for acceptance into training and most often exceeded the expectations of their commanders. In doing so, they used their native talents and acquired skills to eliminate the enemy and save American lives.

  Lieutenant General Julian J. Ewell, who assumed command of the 9th Infantry Division in February 1968 and took the leadership role in establishing army snipers in Vietnam, recorded some of his experiences with snipers and their expertise in Sharpening the Combat Edge, another Vietnam Studies title, in 1974. Ewell wrote, “Our most successful sniper was Sergeant Adelbert F. Waldron III, who had 109 confirmed kills to his credit. One afternoon he was riding along the Mekong River on a Tango boat when an enemy sniper on shore pecked away at the boat. While everyone else on board strained to find the antagonist, who was firing from the shoreline over 900 meters away, Sergeant Waldron took up his sniper rifle and picked off the Vietcong out of the top of a coconut tree with one shot (this from a moving platform). Such was the capability of our best sniper. We had others, too, with his matchless vision and expert marksmanship.”

  The following individual accounts provide a look into the typical day’s work of American snipers in Vietnam.

  Gary M. White of Utica, New York, joined the Marine Corps in January 1969 and shortly thereafter reported to Parris Island for boot camp. The following September, White arrived in Vietnam, where he joined M Company, 3rd Battalion, 26th Regiment, 1st Marine Division. White recalls, “I had been in Vietnam for a couple of months when a sergeant with a sniper team temporarily attached to the company said they needed recruits for the regiment’s scout-sniper platoon. I volunteered. After an interview to confirm that I had shot expert[1] in basic, I went to Da Nang for sniper training.

  “The sniper school issued me a Remington Model 700 rifle with a 3×9 variable-power scope that had an internal 600-meter range finder. I was already a good shot before the training but during the ten-day school I became even better. The ‘bolt rifle,’ as we called the Remington, was a great weapon. I never had any trouble with it.

  “Upon graduation I reported to the 26th Marine Regiment Headquarters Company Scout-Sniper Platoon. It had a lieutenant platoon commander, a platoon sergeant, an armorer, and twenty-eight snipers organized into fourteen two-man teams. Most everyone was twenty years old like myself or a year or so younger or older. Me and one Marine from Connecticut and a surfer from California were the only ones not from the South or the western mountain states. Most had done a lot of game hunting before joining the corps.

  “Like every newly assigned sniper, I began as the ob
server, searching for targets, spotting rounds, and providing security for the primary shooter. Due to lots of guys completing their tours, I moved up from observer to shooter after only a few weeks.

  “My first mission as the senior team member came in November 1969. As soon as I got the order, I went to a makeshift firing range at the edge of the base and ‘doped,’ or zeroed, my weapon. I reconfirmed my zero with three or four shots and then packed up my rucksack for the mission. We snipers usually went pretty light in the field since we rarely stayed out more than five days to a week. I wore camouflage utilities made up of a pattern of shades of green, tan, and black along with a soft-brim boonie hat and the issue jungle boots.

  “In addition to carrying my Remington 700, I strapped a .45-caliber Thompson submachine gun and extra magazines on my rucksack and had a standard M1911 .45-caliber pistol on my web gear. Some snipers carried only the pistol, but I liked the idea of having the Thompson if we got into any close-in fighting. We never planned on more than a few shots on each mission with the Remington, but I carried fifty of the 7.62-mm match-grade rounds—better too many than too few. Water, some C rations, weapons-cleaning gear, and a lightweight camouflage poncho liner rounded out my equipment load.

  “My observer dressed the same and had about the same gear. Instead of a bolt rifle he carried an M14 or an M16 to provide more firepower. He also usually had a pair of binoculars and a Starlight scope[2] for night observation that could also be mounted on the M14 for sniping after dark.

  “My observer and I joined a grunt company of the 3rd Battalion north of Da Nang at Hill 190. We reported to the company commander, who, like all the field commanders, treated us real well. They seemed to like having a sniper team along. Of course, they knew we were assigned to the regimental headquarters and would return there after the mission.

  “After we joined the company, the commander assigned us a radio operator and a security team for times we might be separated from the main force, like doing a ‘stay behind’ to see if anyone was following after the unit moved on. During movement we usually walked with the company command post in the center of the formation. In addition to ‘stay behinds’ we occasionally set up on a hillside and provided an overwatch of the company’s march.

  “Since this was my first mission as a team leader, I really didn’t expect much to happen. However, only a few hours into the march, as we were advancing into what we called Elephant Valley, I heard the company commander order, ‘Sniper up!’ My observer and I quickly moved to the front of the company on the side of a gentle slope, where the point man directed our attention to five figures moving away from us at a distance of about 500 meters along a trail in the valley below. The company commander turned to me and said, ‘This is a free-fire zone. Those guys don’t belong here. Shoot if you want to.’

  “Through my scope I could see the five were carrying heavy packs and wore a mixture of uniforms and civilian dress. I braced my rifle and squeezed off a shot. By the time I regained the sight picture I could see my target going down. I swung around to try to get another shot but the other gooks quickly melted into the surrounding jungle.

  “We moved down the hill and found the body and a pack full of medical supplies and rice. One shot, one kill. Man, I was excited, completely exhilarated. It was like hitting a home run.

  “Over the next few months I went out on many more missions with the infantry as well as doing some tower duty at various fire bases. Before the 26th Regiment withdrew from Vietnam the following March, I got three more confirmed kills for a total of four. I had five more unconfirmed, but unless we put a foot on the body or an officer could visually verify it, we did not claim a confirmed kill—even if there was a heavy blood trail.

  “I think the enemy knew the regiment was getting ready to pull out, so activity was not all that great in our area. Some of the other snipers in my platoon had more kills, some less. A couple got wounded, but we did not lose a single sniper in the six months I was there. They were a great bunch of guys—a whole different breed, real professionals.”

  Army and Marine snipers differed in their unit organization and in their individual weapons, but their general operational procedures were remarkably similar. Two-man sniper teams operated with infantry companies in the field or provided long-range firepower from various base camps and fire bases. Sniper teams also accompanied army long-range reconnaissance patrols (LRRPs) and Marine reconnaissance units. On occasion, with an infantry team of five to ten men to provide security and communications, they operated semi-independently. Still other snipers, especially in army units, returned to their companies after training, becoming unit snipers like their predecessors in World War II and the Korean conflict.[3]

  Snipers in Vietnam, like other Americans in the war zone, did not remain static in their tactics and methods of operations. They changed, modified, or invented whatever was necessary to successfully engage and destroy the enemy.

  Marine Sergeant Ed Kugler, who served as a sniper with the 4th Regiment of the 3rd Marine Division for two years after his arrival in-country in March 1966, performed all the usual missions, including a confirmed kill at 1,300 meters from a fire base at Con Thien in the fall of 1966.

  Kugler, from Lock Seventeen, Ohio, enlisted in the corps on June 18, 1964, and was wounded on April 30, 1965, in the Dominican Republic campaign. Kugler arrived at the replacement center at Da Nang in March 1966. There, an NCO from the recently established 3rd Marine Division Scout-Sniper School spoke to the replacements, soliciting volunteers. “He did the great sales job,” Kugler remembers, “and I bought it.” After three weeks of training, Kugler and his Winchester Model 70 and telescopic sight joined the 4th Marine Regiment Scout-Sniper Platoon.

  For the next year Kugler worked with Marine companies in his regiment, performed sniper duties from platforms and ground positions at fire bases, and spent several months attached to the division’s Force Recon Company. By June 1967, Kugler, on a second-tour extension, was one of the most experienced snipers in his platoon. Tired of the typical sniper missions, Kugler had an idea for something different that he thought would produce better results.

  Kugler and his chain of command convinced the regiment commander to permit the platoon to conduct semi-independent operations with teams composed entirely of snipers. Over the next six months, the special sniper teams, operating in groups as small as four and as large as eight, conducted missions organized around two shooters armed with scope-equipped bolt rifles. Other team members carried M14s in addition to at least one M79 grenade launcher and one M60 machine gun. They planned their missions carefully, coordinating with artillery and air support as well as with a regiment reaction company that stood ready to be airlifted to support the team or to secure its extraction.

  Kugler’s sniper team used the radio call sign Rogues. He recalls, “We worked mostly out of Camp Evans and Hill 51 into the Co Bi Than Tan Valley, between Laos and the Ashau Valley. We would move onto a hillside and camouflage ourselves and then watch the valley below. We saw lots of small groups of VC and NVA. Most were minus a man or two after we took them under fire.

  “We usually traveled at night to our positions. We also had fallback locations to which we could vanish after we fired or if we were compromised. We’d generally hide all day. Most of our shooting took place during the first hour of daylight and the last hour before dark.

  “We did do some day shooting. One afternoon six of us set up on a rise to observe an open area about 400 meters across a river. About two in the afternoon we saw a soldier carrying a rifle and a pack step out into the clearing. In a few minutes a couple more joined him. Soon I had counted 110 fully armed NVA. I called in artillery, and when it was in the air, me and the other sniper squeezed off a few rounds. We knocked down four before the artillery shells began to impact. We then called in an air strike. The forward air observer made a low pass over the clearing and counted thirty-five bodies.

  “Not all of our shots were at long range. In the fall of 196
7 we were operating at the northeast end of the valley. On day three of a five-day mission we were on a small hill overlooking some dense jungle vegetation now choking a deserted village. There was a trail running to right and left, somewhat toward us, connecting a trail that came by our hide position.

  “We were all camouflaged into the grass and underbrush about four feet high. It was a seriously hot day and about to get hotter. We were aligned left to right, six of us. I was in the middle with my radioman to my left, close enough that I could gain eye contact with everyone.

  “Suddenly, I couldn’t believe my eyes. First one, then three gooks appeared out of the jungle and started down the trail. I knew instantly they had no idea we were less than 100 meters above. I quietly passed word that we would all shoot at once, two with the bolt rifles and the other four with their M14s with iron sights.

  “What a deal! In all my time in Vietnam, I’d never had a chance like this one. As we waited, five more gooks appeared, bringing the total to nine—all wearing uniforms and carrying rifles and packs. They moved slowly but with confidence. We waited a few more minutes. I wanted to be sure the nine were not the point element for a whole company.

  “When I was sure that the nine were alone, I whispered, ‘Now,’ and six shots cracked nearly as one. Six gooks dropped. We’d done it! We’d hit six for six. The other three really freaked and dashed for the jungle. We got one more but the other two disappeared like a streak of fire. They never returned a single round at us or even knew our position.

  “We watched the bodies for about an hour to see if anyone came to retrieve them, Then with four guys providing cover, me and another Marine crept into the kill zone. All of the dead gooks were real young. Just kids. But, hell, so were we. We recovered two AK-47s, three carbines, and a bunch of grenades and papers. The team then quickly withdrew to another position. We’d had a successful day. Sniper Rogues 7, Gooks 0.