Modern American Snipers

by Chris Martin

  These CJSOTFs were established by SOCCENT—Special Operations Command Central—a subunified command of CENTCOM.

  The Iraq-focused CJSOTF-AP included SEAL Teams from both coasts, along with the 1st, 5th, and 10th U.S. Army Special Forces Groups. Meanwhile in Afghanistan, CJSOTF-A was heavily weighted toward SF with the 3rd and 19th among the Groups supplying its headquarters element.

  * * *

  While there is some overlap in what is brought to the table, Navy SEALs and Army Special Forces have each carved out their own particular niche during the course of their proud histories. The units’ roles within the task forces generally reflected these differences.

  The Army’s Green Berets are renowned for the skills in the areas of unconventional warfare and foreign internal defense. This allows them to operate alongside the local populace, train them, and effectively weaponize their sympathies.

  Alongside small teams from the CIA’s Special Activities Division, Special Forces ODA’s played a critical role in the opening stages of the Afghanistan War. Among the enduring images of that initial rush are Task Force Dagger Green Berets on horseback, astonishing their Northern Alliance allies while devastating their Taliban enemies with air strikes. In Iraq, their expertise often meant bringing local special police and military units up to speed and then leading them in the field.

  Meanwhile, SEALs are most effective when conducting kinetic operations, unleashing their quick-strike capabilities in direct action missions.

  If used properly, these complementary core strengths can allow both units to make invaluable contributions across a wide variety of scenarios.

  However, they haven’t always been leveraged to the maximum of their capabilities. As the Afghanistan War campaign ramped up, the vanilla SEAL Teams were assigned to Task Force K-Bar, a hodgepodge of allied SOF that also included Australian SASR, Canadian JTF-2, and German KSK commandos.

  While deep in talent and motivation, the task force was often sidelined or given lower priority targets to chase as JSOC’s task force assumed the role of the AO’s dominant hunter.

  And later, as a new war kicked off in Iraq, the National Missions Force largely operated where and when it chose while monopolizing limited ISR (intelligence, surveillance, and reconnaissance) resources, particularly the emerging robotic air force—the MQ-1 Predators and other drone platforms.

  The SEAL Teams expected to play a crucial role in Iraq. Naval Special Warfare made a splash at its opening, executing high-profile operations timed to the start of the invasion. However, as the war started to evolve, their impact was rendered nearly nonexistent.

  * * *

  As the Iraq War broke out, Lieutenant Larry Yatch was on his second deployment, serving as the AOIC (Assistant Officer in Charge) of a Team Three platoon. Yatch had already earned himself an outsized reputation as a new-guy “third O” while taking part in the visit, board, search, and seizure (VBSS) operations that earned Team Three its pre-9/11 status as the place to be—the only Team doing actual SEAL work in those days. There he had developed a new method for breaching ships that was utilized multiple times during the deployment.

  Now actively engaged in a full-scale war, Yatch and the rest of the SEALs with Team Three expected to find themselves deep in the mix. However, following those initial ops that helped enable the invasion, the reality was very different. The deployment was generally one of disappointment—if not outright embarrassment—for the SEALs.

  “It was a very frustrating deployment for most of us,” Yatch admitted. “All the platoons did a lot of stuff, but none of it was what we thought of as combat or what we thought war was going to be like. All of our leadership ‘grew up’ in peace time. All of our commanders … they had never done anything because nothing had gone on for so long—since Panama.”

  ST3’s commanding officer in 2003 was Adam Curtis. Curtis had, in fact, played a pivotal role in Panama but not in a way he would fondly remember.

  In late December of 1989, as a young Lieutenant, Curtis and his wife were taken captive at a Panamanian roadblock and subsequently tortured by Manuel Noreiga’s PDF goons. The following day, Operation Just Cause—the invasion of Panama—was given the go-ahead by President George H. W. Bush.

  While Commander Curtis had suffered horribly in Panama, the rest of the Team’s top brass was almost entirely without combat experience of any sort. General Norman Schwarzkopf’s antipathy for special operations in general seemed to hold particularly true in the case of Navy SEALs, and the CENTCOM Commander-in-Chief forced them into a minimal role during the Gulf War.

  “[Schwarzkopf] wouldn’t allow the SEALs back in Desert Storm because of his ego—that’s just a fact,” said Howard Wasdin, who was still with SEAL Team Two during the early ’90s engagement. “Norman Schwarzkopf didn’t like the SEALs period. He basically made us nonplayers.”

  Expounding on the lack of wartime experience residing inside Team Three’s leadership when it came time to return to Iraq a decade later, Yatch said, “That’s not anything negative on them—there was nothing to do. But they had existed in a peacetime environment where if a SEAL got hurt, their career was ended.”

  As a result, the officers were conditioned throughout the entirety of their careers to be exceedingly risk averse. And even when presented with a wartime environment, they continued to be hesitant in subjecting their sailors to any sort of risk.

  The Team’s planning methodology was also painfully slow and unrealistic. As such, it proved unable to keep pace with a rapidly shifting situation on the ground.

  Yatch said, “Things were happening so fast. In the [nonwartime] environment we existed in prior to that, we would spend a week planning for an op. And so, that environment of being risk averse as well as being conditioned that there are very specific SEAL missions and there are very specific ways to plan for them—well, that wasn’t the environment we were in after the opening night.”

  Opportunities were continually passed up. And a pack of hungry SEALs were helpless to do little more than watch the war transpire around them.

  * * *

  Making matters more problematic, even if a situation happened to allow this outdated mentality enough time to approve an operation, the intelligence provided to the platoons was often woefully inadequate.

  DEVGRU, for example, had its missions fueled by a massive intelligence network that combined the efforts of external agencies, supporting units owned by JSOC, and SEAL Team Six’s own recce operators, all of which were specifically aimed at locking down their next target.

  SEAL Team Three lacked all of these, forced instead to rely heavily on Naval Intelligence personnel who were better suited to support destroyer captains at sea than SOF on land.

  ST3 was assigned an ambitious multipart operation that served as the opening salvo of the Iraq War. Given adequate time to effectively coordinate what would be the largest single operation in Naval Special Warfare history, the SEALs partnered with other coalition special operations forces to secure the Al Basrah and Khawr Al Amaya Oil Terminal platforms, their related onshore pumping locks, and the Al Faw refinery.

  While later hailed as a historic success—and one that kicked off the broader Operation Iraqi Freedom—all three objectives were threatened with disaster due to faulty intel. As a result, literal and figurative bullets were dodged.

  At the Al Faw manifold and metering station, the mission plan called for helicopters to ferry SEALs into location, at which point they would launch from the back of the aircraft aboard DPVs (Desert Patrol Vehicles)—basically armed dune buggies. The SEALs would race their vehicles to strategic locations and then prevent enemy forces from coming through the facility’s front gate.

  The insertion team planned to release the DPVs on nearby roads but intelligence personnel insisted they land in the nearby fields instead.

  “The fields were solid mud and the DPVs are horrible in those conditions,” Yatch said. “Some of them didn’t even make it a foot off the ramp. The farthest one made i
t less than twenty-five yards.”

  That meant they couldn’t use the heavy guns mounted on the DPVs to guard the gates. It also meant the stranded SEALs were forced to advance on foot in full MOPP gear (chemical-resistant suits with gas masks) in knee-deep mud. “It was a mess.”

  It was a similar story at the second target, where the SEALs were provided with another less-than-optimal LZ. Yatch said, “As soon as the gate opened the guys ran out of the back of the helicopter and into ten feet of concertina wire on top of a bunker.”

  The third objective was an oil platform, which offered significantly more resistance than expected.

  The SEAL Lieutenant, whose platoon took part in the oil platform hit, said, “We were told to expect three people—a cook, a maintenance guy, and one soldier. Instead, we ended up facing twenty-four Iraqi Republican Guard, multiple antiaircraft positions, two machine-gun positions, and a thousand pounds of explosives.

  “They were completely wrong. And that continued throughout the war.”

  * * *

  Two ST3 platoons operated in Nasiriya one week after the invasion opened and just days ahead of the DEVGRU-led Jessica Lynch rescue mission. While there were plenty of targets in the area, the SEALs were handcuffed from actively pursuing them.

  “We weren’t allowed to go anywhere near where they were during the day out of the risk that we might get into a firefight and someone might get shot,” the SEAL officer said.

  Meanwhile, USMC Force Reconnaissance platoons were in the area too and operating under considerably greater freedom. In fact, they’d drive directly into town, just daring someone to shoot at them, and then they’d take the fight to anyone who took the bait.

  The frustrated Yatch asked, “We’re more valuable than Marines? We can’t be exposed to that kind of risk and they can? At my level—the officer level—I didn’t see much tactical thinking going on at the level above me. We didn’t get a lot of direction and no one was coming up with a battle plan. You’ve got these resources … use them. And that wasn’t the case.

  “The whole environment was very frustrating. You know there are bad guys out there. You know you’re better than they are. And yet, we were sitting around or going out on these silly ops to just go sit on a corner and hope someone drives by in the middle of the night.”

  According to Yatch, throughout the lengthy deployment only two members of SEAL Team Three so much as fired a shot at an enemy combatant, totaling three kills in all.

  “It was this feeling of, ‘That was pathetic. That’s the best we’ve got?’ One of the British SBS guys said we were lions being led by lambs.”

  * * *

  Among the Team Three SEALs demoralized and disillusioned by his first brush with combat was a big, broad-shouldered new guy the rest of the platoon called “Tex.” The nickname was not in any way ironic—he was Texan to the core, almost to the point of being a caricature of the stereotype.

  The son of hardworking, religious parents, Christopher Scott Kyle was born in Odessa, Texas. He grew up on a ranch with his parents and younger brother near Midlothian, a small town with a population of less than ten thousand some thirty miles southeast of Fort Worth.

  Larger than life like his home state itself, Kyle earned his “real deal” credentials before ever brandishing the SEAL Trident. While he played football and baseball as a Midlothian Panther before graduating in 1992, he found his (first) calling in the rodeo. When he wasn’t competing he paid the bills by working as a ranch hand.

  These days an accent marked by a drawl combined with a tendency to play dress-up year-round is enough to earn someone the title “cowboy.” But, in certain parts of the country, the genuine article is not yet extinct and Kyle was indeed a true-blue cowboy, the first of several existences he lived that most only dare to dream of.

  Kyle’s eventual path to a military life was forced when his rodeo career came to an abrupt ending.

  He was crushed and pinned in the chute when a bronco flipped over on top of him and pressed up against the gate so the latch wouldn’t release. The horse rolled on top of him again and the gate finally swung open. The bronco bucked out with the cowboy hopelessly dragged along for the ride.

  “I still had a foot in the stirrup,” Kyle explained. “He kicked me in the kidneys, and that’s finally what kicked me out of the stirrup. I woke up being Life Flighted to the hospital.”

  Adding insult to injury, Kyle jokingly lamented that there wasn’t even video evidence of the incident to cash in on (“America’s Funniest Home Videos—I could have won some money”).

  Years later Kyle was back home from his first deployment, trying to figure out his next move in life. He had specifically requested Team Three because of its reputation as the place to be in the Teams if you wanted action. He even requested it despite the perceived indignity of having to live in Southern California to do so.

  However, now back from war and still not satisfied, the 60 gunner contemplated his future. He wasn’t beaten down when confronted with the harsh realities of war. Quite the opposite, in fact; he had gotten his first taste of combat and discovered it agreed with him. Instead he was left sickened by what he considered to be cowardice and political maneuvering by his own leaders in search of “bullshit glory.”

  ST3’s potential had been squandered by what Kyle saw as a commanding officer more concerned with career advancement than the effectiveness of his Team. Avoiding catastrophic failure rather than seeking overwhelming success was the most certain way to pad the brass’s resume.

  He later admitted that if he hadn’t been locked in to a contract, he might have left the Teams at that point, perhaps even made good on his initial thoughts of joining the USMC and becoming one of those Force Recon Marines himself.

  But he was and he didn’t. Instead, Chris Kyle was about to answer his true calling.

  * * *

  “New guy” taint removed, Kyle was granted his wish following his first deployment: a slot at the U.S. Navy SEAL Sniper Course.

  Today, the school is considered among the best basic sniper training programs in the world—if not the best. That reputation is based on its forward-thinking instruction and supported by the undeniable results of its alumni in the field. However, it wasn’t always that way—in fact, it’s a relatively recent development.

  Kyle did not know it at the time, but he was to become one of the very first of a new breed of SEAL snipers, trained to exacting standards via a thoroughly modernized course.

  Prior to the introduction of this pilot program, the reputation of SEAL sniper training had been decidedly mixed.

  While SEALs have formally existed since the ’60s, the internal sniper program wasn’t developed for some time after that. A former SEAL sniper instructor with an expansive knowledge of the program explained, “It wasn’t until ’86 or so that the SEALs developed their own course. Before that, most of the guys were sent to the Marine Scout Sniper Course, and a few were sent to the Army’s.”

  Even after the introduction of the SEAL program, the esteemed USMC Scout Sniper Basic Course (SSBC) remained the preferred destination for most. As aspiring SEAL Team Six snipers in the early ’90s, Howard Wasdin and Homer Nearpass were given their choices of three schools: the SEAL sniper school, USMC Scout Sniper Course, or the Army’s SOTIC (Special Operations Target Interdiction Course).

  Due to its long history, tradition, and prestige, they both elected to train at the USMC program, a near-unanimous choice among new DEVGRU snipers at the time. In fact, the Red Squadron’s sniper team room sports an autographed poster of Carlos Hathcock to this day.

  Wasdin vividly recalled his time at the Marine Corps Scout Sniper Course nearly a quarter of a century after the fact. He said, “When I went through, the SEAL sniper program was still considered … well, let’s say when I talked to my SEAL buddies who had been to sniper school, every single one of them had chosen to go to Marine Corps sniper school. Back then they were saying, ‘Hey, you can go through [SOTIC or the SEAL training
], or you can chance it and go to Quantico.’

  “At that time, the reason it was so vaunted was because of the just nut-dragging stalks you had to do there. Quantico in the summertime is like hell on earth. It’s hot, you’ve got to do those stalks in full ghillie suits, and you have a minimum number you’ve got to pass. I had a buddy who went to Quantico and he’d write us a letter every week: ‘Hey man, don’t know if I chose the right school or not, but I haven’t busted my ass like this since BUD/S.’”

  The U.S. Navy SEAL Sniper Course received a much-needed overhaul beginning in 2003. After returning from a combat deployment as a SEAL sniper for Team Three under Task Force K-Bar in Afghanistan, Brandon Webb joined NSWG-1 Training Detachment (TRADET) as an instructor at the West Coast TRADET Sniper Cell.

  There he already started rethinking the approach to sniper training when he and fellow TRADET instructor and SEAL sniper Eric Davis were invited to join a pair of decorated DEVGRU snipers in a total redesign of the basic SEAL Sniper Course. A short while later, both men were recruited to join full-time and Webb would eventually be promoted to Course Manager.

  The refreshed U.S. Navy SEAL Sniper Course was exacting and extensive. At thirteen weeks, it was almost twice as long as the U.S. Army Sniper School and weeks longer than either SOTIC or USMC SSBC.

  While based very much on the template laid out by the Scout Sniper Basic Course, the SEAL program was also designed to be more intuitive, applicable, and modernized. Historical holdovers were rethought or discarded and a major emphasis was made to incorporate any and all relevant emerging technologies that might provide its students a critical edge on the battlefield.

  The use of advanced photographic and ballistic software was dissected and perfected, new weapons systems and attachments were integrated, and the students were now expected to master the science that determines how a bullet gets from point A to point B when traveling hundreds, if not thousands, of yards.

  And the Marine course wasn’t the only model that inspired its design. Leading foreign programs also served as inspiration, as did the training methods of world-class athletes, leading to the development of progressive mental heuristic and observation methodologies.