Modern American Snipers

by Chris Martin

  It was only when it became obvious that the serious CT work was going to take place in Iraq that Delta truly pulled up their stakes and replanted itself in the new theater. That left DEVGRU to slog it out in Afghanistan, a war zone that had frozen over operationally since its opening flurry, lacking both political will and ready targets.

  While far busier than it had been at any point previously with endless three-month rotations for its squadrons and continual real-world ops—including some groundbreaking missions—there had to be that familiar sense of envy when it looked over to see how the other half lived.

  In the mid-2000s, Delta Force broke new ground and shattered previously held beliefs about operational limits. Its operators brought dread, chaos, and lead in equal portions as it surgically dissected terrorist networks, blasting through doors and demonstrating its CQB prowess in live combat.

  The sailors of SEAL Team Six, meanwhile, trudged through the snow and hiked miles on end across the spines of unforgiving mountain ridgelines in hopes that an al-Qaeda player of note had stuck his head out of hiding or wandered back across the border.

  * * *

  DEVGRU did get its tastes of the blistering intensity of Iraq that was Delta’s nightly existence—certainly enough to see what it had been missing.

  A Warsaw Pact–trained sniper terrorized American troops in Iraq, killing several Army soldiers in the process. A number of snipers volunteered to take on the countersniper assignment, but one Black Team sniper from Red Squadron threw himself into the mission.

  A former SEAL sniper instructor explained, “If you’re on the glass all the time, it’s going to happen, it’s just a matter of when. Some guys slack off, but if you have the key attributes—you’re patient, conscious, alert, and don’t get fatigued—you’ll get the results. This guy had them and he got them. He set up in a hide for six days drinking tea. He waited the sniper out and sure enough, a barrel finally appeared through the wall. That was all it took. He shot him right down the hole.”

  That was just one in scores of kills taken by ST6 in Iraq. Task Force Blue worked the western half of the nation and set its sights on putting bomb-making networks out of business the JSOC way—rapid successions of raids targeting midlevel and local leaders, which branched out through the network’s spiderweb of connections as they snapped into focus.

  Ultimately, DEVGRU killed and captured hundreds in these efforts while helping to drastically curtail IED attacks on coalition forces … but it’s all relative.

  SEAL Team Six’s primary focus was Afghanistan and Afghanistan was not the place to be—not if you’re at the top of the CT food chain anyway. But then, eventually, it was.

  * * *

  DEVGRU had not only been the victim of the Army’s institutional grasp over the nation’s SOF hierarchy, some felt that it had also long suffered due to institutional issues much closer to home.

  ST6 founder Richard Marcinko’s rogue legacy had impacted the unit’s standing in the wider special operations community—an effect that lasted for decades after the end of his command (Marcinko had only actually led the unit from ’80 to ’83).

  Marcinko was brilliant in his theories but arguably less so in realizing them. A unit such as SEAL Team Six requires iconoclastic, independent risk takers … but also extremely professional, dedicated ones. While he may have found the sorts of cowboys he needed, he issued them black hats rather than gold stars and they readily followed his lead.

  Robert Gormly was the first in a succession of officers who worked hard to retain the unit’s edge but also sharpen its shark-toothed roughness into a finely honed blade. He faced a steep uphill climb.

  Upon arrival, SEAL Team Six’s XO warned him that despite Marcinko’s boasts to the contrary, the unit had not been trained to an elite standard. Challenging exercises were often ended early because “as soon as things got tough, Dick would step in, abort the exercise, and take the troops drinking.”

  Another ST6 officer of the era recalled similar sentiments about the actual readiness of the unit, with whispers suggesting that it was “all show, no go” in those formative years.

  It was said Marcinko had assembled a “personal fiefdom” around himself. Highly motivated and gifted SEALs could be turned away while “shit birds” were pulled into the flock and the officers (outside of Marcinko) were undermined, creating “a rigid meritocracy married to the worst sort of personality cult … that brought out the worst portions of cronyism, backstabbing, and flattery.”

  Gormly gave the arrogant yet underperforming maritime CT unit a reality check, requiring it to train and maintain standards in line with its extraordinarily demanding mission requirements.

  However, Marcinko had assembled the unit from the ground up and his influence remained deeply ingrained in its DNA. The rogue warrior had constructed an inherently rogue organization. Subsequent leaders fought to exploit the inspired underlying concepts that drove his initial vision, while removing the less capable and less wholesome elements of what they had inherited.

  But despite the dedicated and well-directed attempts of Gormly and those who succeeded him, in the eyes of some SEAL Team Six’s reputation had largely been cemented. Even as DEVGRU enhanced its operational capabilities to a world-class standard, others in the military still viewed the unit as an enabled pack of outlaws—tremendously skilled outlaws, no doubt, but outlaws all the same. More worrisome, so too did some of its operators, who embraced the image and cultivated the belief that they were above the law.

  * * *

  With two decades to change its culture, DEVGRU entered the post-9/11 world boasting professionalism and talent comparable to its Army counterpart, without having completely shed its inner rebel.

  Leaders like Olson and McRaven elevated DEVGRU to a new level, directly through their leadership, and indirectly by pulling the unit up with them as they advanced through the ranks.

  Ironically, McRaven was one of the junior officers Marcinko had run off back in the day, back when McRaven headed an ST6 squadron but refused to get on board with the commander’s orders to conduct undisclosed “questionable activities.”

  Marcinko later criticized McRaven, claiming he “took the special out of special warfare.” However, the argument could be made that the studious and measured Texan actually “brought the special out of special warfare” when he at last had the power to do so, rewarding DEVGRU with its golden age once it had come to more closely reflect his image than that of its founding father.

  Even Delta alumni recognized the impressive transformation, citing “extraordinary efforts on the part of the SEAL community to enhance the professionalism and capabilities of the SEALs” and noting that “they’re not the SEAL Team Six that Dick Marcinko put together.”

  * * *

  The Naval unit faced some serious growing pains as it first acclimatized to the harsh, mountainous backdrop presented by Afghanistan. While Delta Force had the luxury of extensive mountaineering training, Six had the heavy burden of maintaining its maritime capabilities, a time-consuming endeavor and one that suddenly paid few dividends.

  As a result, initially, the Navy special mission unit was alleged to lack the training, gear, and mindset necessary to operate effectively and were roundly (and unsurprisingly) criticized by their Army counterparts, who might prefer ST6 stay in the water.

  However, thrown in the deep end, over time DEVGRU learned how to “swim” in this very different setting. With a generation of operators who had grown up developing tactics in the barren land, by the time the Afghanistan War reclaimed the nation’s focus, SEAL Team Six were masters of the mountainous terrain and more than ready to take the lead.

  Afghanistan wasn’t an ideal match for the tools JSOC had pioneered under McChrystal’s watch and expanded under McRaven’s in Iraq; it lacked the infrastructure, population density, and flat geography that had allowed Delta et al. to elevate their tempo to a prestissimo pace. However, the targeting and execution had become so efficient that the capability
for exploiting these methods remained very much intact.

  In an overwhelming display of kinetic intensity, the renewed campaign doubled its pace each successive year: coalition SOF killed more than thirteen hundred insurgents and captured seventeen hundred more during a four-month span in 2011, during which JSOC ran five hundred of the four thousand total missions and “had done most of the killing.”

  Afghanistan became SEAL Team Six’s opportunity to showcase their ability to dominate compressed and chaotic kill zones.

  “Nobody does CQB or direct action the way SEAL Team Six does—that’s a fact,” said former DEVGRU operator Howard Wasdin.

  A former Six officer echoed those sentiments, claiming DEVGRU is not “just good at multiple-room CQB; there is no one else in the world that comes close.”

  “I’d be lying if I said that most of the people inside SEAL Team Six didn’t think they were at that next elite level,” Wasdin added. “If you go to SEAL Team Six compound, you have the billion-dollar trainer sitting right there off to the right and you can go in and shoot 360 degrees in any direction, throw a real grenade, take out an elevator, and have it all video recorded. You don’t have that kind of training anywhere else.”

  Even in the early days following 9/11, the NSWDG CQB range featured eighteen HD monitors, quad video inputs, theatrical special effects, microwave motion sensors and pressure pads, and day and night camera tracking to capture it all on film (well, hard drive, actually). It’s difficult to fathom what toys it may feature fifteen years and a budget explosion later.

  In Afghanistan, SEAL Team Six’s opportunities to put its prodigious combat marksmanship talents into practice often hinged on its ability to operate in the harsh environment unhindered. Armed not only with Hk416 and quad-tube NVGs, but also superior training, conditioning, and around a decade’s worth of experience running ops in the nation’s most unforgiving battlegrounds, DEVGRU routinely outmaneuvered the locals. They seized the initiative on enemy forces who previously considered their mountainside lairs all but unassailable by foreign forces.

  To maximize this advantage, assaulting SEAL Team Six troops performed offset infils as standard operating procedure, disembarking from 160th SOAR helicopters out of hearing range and then hiking for hours across several miles of terrain in order to retain the element of surprise.

  The responsibility for this game changer rested largely on the shoulders of Black Team, whose recce snipers mapped out potential LZs and paths to targets ahead of the missions. They then patrolled out ahead of the stealthy infiltration hikes and scouted the objective once in position. As the assault commenced, they would climb into position and pull overwatch duty (if not be included in the door kicking) and then assume the lead once again during exfiltration.

  DEVGRU not only tore through Mullah Omar’s Quetta Shura Taliban networks in the south, the Islamic Movement of Uzbekistan in the north, and the al-Qaeda-linked Lashkar-e-Taiba and Haqqani Network in the east, it also successfully pulled off a series of dramatic hostage rescue operations.

  It was one they did not that underlined just how important their mountaineering talents had become in enabling their success.

  * * *

  Intercepted communications suggested that, in October 2010, kidnapped Scottish aid worker Linda Norgrove, who had been captured and held by Taliban insurgents, was in imminent danger of either being executed in torturous fashion or transported to al-Qaeda-linked factions in Pakistan.

  Held at eight thousand feet in northern Kunar Province, the urgent time frame prevented SEAL Team Six from utilizing what had become its preferred method; a silent ascent on foot from miles away was deemed impossible.

  Coming in loud and fast in a predawn raid with an AC-130U gunship watching from above, the assault team fast-roped from Night Stalker MH-60 Black Hawks directly onto the compound grounds.

  Recce snipers aboard the helicopters immediately dispatched multiple sentries, defending the assaulters’ rapid descent to Earth.

  With six insurgents taken out in the opening seconds by precise fire, Norgrove was nearly free. However, one of her captors had pulled her from the building, an act unrecognized by the rescue force. She broke free and curled into the fetal position as the gunfight raged just above her head.

  An operator tossed a grenade at the sole remaining combatant from a nearby roof. The explosive killed the Taliban fighter but also severely wounded the hidden Norgrove.

  She ultimately succumbed to her wounds.

  It was initially reported by the assault team that Norgrove had been killed by a Taliban suicide vest. Only days later, following the careful review of drone and helmet cam footage, did the reality of the situation become apparent.

  The culprit came forward and admitted the mistake. He was dismissed from Six while several others were disciplined for not speaking up immediately.

  While the judgment of the SEAL at fault was a crucial factor, the rescue was made riskier and more complex than it might have been had the team not been forced to make a heliborne assault against awaiting captors.

  Providing additional evidence of the hazards of the method was the more recent successful rescue of Dr. Dilip Joseph, whom SEAL Team Six freed from the Taliban in the mountains near the Pakistan border. However, Navy Petty Officer 1st Class Nicolas Checque was killed during the course of a gunfight that was spurred by the sound of incoming helicopters. While seven insurgents were killed and two others apprehended in the course of the successful rescue, the loss of Checque served as another scaring reminder of all that can go wrong during the course of such a high-risk mission.

  But when tactically freed up by a recce-led offset infiltration, DEVGRU has shown it can execute even the most demanding of rescues with surgical exactness.

  Four months following the attempted air assault on the Shok Valley by Special Forces ODA-3336, Gulbuddin Hekmatyar’s militant group, Hezb-e-Islami, had taken an American Army Corps of Engineers worker hostage. He was being held in the mountains of Wardak Province with his captors convinced the treacherous terrain would shield them from any potential attack.

  However, DEVGRU, with Army Rangers in support, set down and stepped out of the 160th SOAR MH-47E Chinooks some miles from the camp.

  The troop leveraged its ability to conquer the terrain. Over a period of several hours and under cover of darkness, the element traversed the mountain path and approached the hut unseen at three a.m.

  A small assault force took the captors completely unaware with suppressed weapons, killing them before they even realized a rescue attempt was in process.

  It was a similar story in June 2012, when four aid workers—Briton Helen Johnston, Kenyan Moragwa Oirere, and two Afghani women—were successfully rescued in Badakhshan Province, near the Tajikistan border, in a joint HR operation conducted by ST6 and the British SAS.

  Here, too, the commandos set down miles from the camp and hiked through the forested mountains in order to execute simultaneous nighttime raids. Completely outmatched in terms of training and technology, the Taliban captors were wiped out in mere moments. DEVGRU snuffed out seven kidnappers while the SAS killed four and saved all four aid workers.

  * * *

  This mounting track record (including a dozen or so clandestine raids across the border into Pakistan) made SEAL Team Six the natural force of choice once HVT-1 had been pinned down to a compound in Abbottabad—intelligence that spurred the single-most coveted SOF mission ever embarked upon.

  And it probably didn’t hurt that former SEAL Team Six officers controlled the top two chairs in the nation’s spec ops community.

  Former Black Teamer Craig Sawyer, who suffered through the unit’s leaner years, said, “Most of the JSOC commanders have been Army. In fact, most of them came through Delta. So it didn’t matter which unit was appropriate for the job, it just mattered whose daddy ran JSOC at the time. Well, that’s changed a little bit. A Navy Admiral was running JSOC for a while and SEAL Team Six got to show what they could do.”

&n
bsp; Operation Neptune Spear—the mission that killed bin Laden—was the most expansive, expensive, and ambitious manhunt in the history, requiring breakthrough technologies on multiple fronts plus a decade of concentrated effort from dozens of entities, thousands of experts, and millions of man hours.

  It was the ultimate expression of the joint counterterrorism capability that had been founded in the wake of the Operation Eagle Claw humiliation and perfected following ten years of brutally relentless combat versus this new breed of fanatical adversary.

  However, for the operators of Red Squadron, it was simply what they do.

  Adm. McRaven said so explicitly: “It is what we do. We get on helicopters, we go to objectives, we secure the objectives, we get back on helicopters, and we come home.”

  “They do it constantly,” added Sawyer. “They do it all the time, and a lot of times there is fierce resistance. And it’s usually never heard about.”

  The unit had certainly pulled off more technical and challenging operations while shredding through much better prepared enemy defensives. The crash of the previously unknown modified “Stealth Hawk” required a bit of improvisation, but again, that is what they do.

  However, the adjustment required an alternate method of bagging bin Laden. The original mission plan evoked one utilized by Delta Force to rescue Kurt Muse from Carcel Modelo prison in Panama City during Operation Acid Gambit in 1989.

  There an operator was tasked with climbing down the side of the building to the window outside Muse’s cell in order to neutralize the guard who was assigned to kill the American in the event of a rescue attempt. However, the guard was not in position and was eventually taken out in the building interior by the assault force.

  Operation Neptune Spear’s slick mission plan—one that unraveled when the helo plummeted into the courtyard—planned for DEVGRU operators to enter the compound from both the ground and the roof simultaneously. The first opportunity to kill bin Laden was to belong to a Black Team sniper, who was slated to lean over from the roof and terminate bin Laden with an inverted shot.