Sniper Elite (10 page)

On arrival in Brunei we had a three-hour drive in the back of a truck to Training Team Brunei (TTB) and our accommodation. It was pouring with rain and I got soaked. I didn't mind as it kept me cool and replaced some much needed fluid in my system. The senior instructors were from Britain's 22 SAS and there was also a New Zealand SAS instructor. This was the first time I had encountered anyone from the SAS and I was quite impressed.

The course started with health and medical issues in a tropical environment, then went on to signals training and survival followed by the tactical package, which included patrolling, ambushing, tracking, live fire break contacts and field craft. Our work on the range was quite demanding. One of the 22  SAS instructors took our patrol through this phase and I got a lot out of it. He was very demanding of our performance. If he didn't like something about the drill we would have to do it again until it was perfected. He gave us tips such as ‘Drake shooting', an SOP used in jungle warfare. Due to the lack of visual distance in the jungle it is inevitable that you will encounter the enemy at very close range, and may not see them at all. So to ‘Drake shoot' is the practice of rapidly shooting at multiple locations where you think the enemy could be situated.

While the training was excellent, the heat became unbearable at times. After working the range we spent a couple of nights in the jungle (J for short), to get used to living under the thick canopy. It can be a little bit cooler in the jungle because you are out of the direct sunlight, but the humidity is twice as bad. You are constantly wet due to perspiration and the afternoon downpours, which can be a welcome relief. We slept in hammocks to protect our bodies from the crawling jungle floor, as the last thing you want is to become a liability to the patrol from infected insect bites. This is just one of many problems for soldiers in a tropical environment.

After a few days training back at the lines we prepared for a block of 23 days in the jungle. We were joined by a six-man patrol from the American Army Special Forces, the Green Berets. These blokes were based at Okinawa, and we got on well with them. There was also a pathfinder patrol from 5 Airborne Brigade, US Army Rangers and a patrol of Gurkhas. We deployed into the area by Huey helicopter and rappelled into the jungle onto a small landing site. Because the fuselage of the aircraft was small we had to tie off our abseil ropes and stand outside on the skids with two men on each side. I imagined this is what it was like for some Special Forces groups being inserted into Vietnam. Once on the ground we pulled the excess rope through the figure 8 descender (a descending device that the abseil rope runs through to give you a controlled descent) and disappeared into the jungle.

The sound of the living jungle was brilliant but the things that lived there could be a worry. It wasn't long before leeches had attached themselves to our legs looking for a warm feed. During stand-to timings, early morning and evening just on dark, a particular insect would arc up, producing quite a loud cicada kind of noise; we nicknamed it ‘the stand-to bug', as it only made its noise during those times.

Towards the end of the exercise we met the rest of the course in preparation for the final six-day exercise culminating in leading a company of Gurkhas into an area to attack an enemy camp. First we had to clean, test and adjust our equipment, replenish rations and water, re-bomb with ammunition and stock up on new radio batteries. Once again we were inserted by rappelling from a Huey and slipping quietly away deep into the jungle. The going was tough to start with, as we had to ‘cross-grain' through some very steep terrain and the patrolling speed was slow. ‘Cross-graining' is a term used for patrolling off tracks. Tracks are never used, as you run the risk of compromise; also the locals would notice instantly if there were foreign marks or footprints, as they know every inch of their backyard so well. Once we were in the approximate area of the enemy camp the patrolling was cut to a minimum and we conducted a couple of recces to locate the camp.

The live fire camp attack was extremely good and I got a lot of personal satisfaction from it, even though Pea had trouble understanding my hand signals, which momentarily forced him towards another firer. But Fozzy had good control over us and all ran smoothly. In fact I enjoyed the whole the course. I thrived on the jungle environment. The jungle can be as difficult as working in the cold of Norway. Both have their dangers and both are uncomfortable, but it's really all in the mind. If you let these environments get to you, it will tear you apart, but if you stay focused on the job you'll come through with flying colours.

At the end of the course there was the usual deservicing of equipment, debriefs, signing of course reports, etc. And once all the work was done a rugby match was organised for Saturday afternoon between the course members and the expats who worked in the area. I couldn't play as I was still getting over the dislocated shoulder, so I got stuck into the beer instead with a couple of others and cheered our side on. I can't remember who won, but I do remember looking at my watch the following morning at 0400 hours and thinking, ‘Fuck, I've got to get up in two hours.' We were to catch the coach to the airport around 0630 to fly back to Hong Kong. I was feeling rather sorry for myself as were most of the other blokes. Just before I boarded the coach one of the pathfinder lads casually ‘parked his custard' at the door. That did not help.

The journey to back to Osborne Barracks in Hong Kong was very painful, although the trip didn't take too long, and we were in the pub by 1900 hours. We spent five days in Hong Kong, which meant we could have a pretty good look around and relax during the day on the beach at Repulse Bay.

When I returned to the UK and the barracks routine I felt very unsettled. The Brunei experience had been interesting and I had learned a lot about jungle warfare, but I couldn't toss that memory of my leave in New Zealand. And by now George and I were very close. In fact, I'd bought her an engagement ring in Hong Kong and asked her to marry me.

I did my first sniper course in July 1995. This was–and still is–a world renowned course. The British SAS use it and one of their members was on my course. There was also a guest instructor from the US Marine Corps Scout Sniper School who had some good ideas and was very proficient in pistol shooting.

One idea he advocated that I didn't agree with–and still don't–was the use of a drag bag. You place your sniper rifle in it and drag it behind you when you need to crawl. I think it is tactically unsound, because immediately there's the need to carry two weapons: one in the bag and the other in your hands, since otherwise you're defenceless. Also, the drag bag causes too much ‘sign'. Snipers crawling through grass or undergrowth cause enough damage to the foliage by themselves; add another object a metre or so behind your horizontal profile and you leave even more sign, not to mention the frustration of it snagging on obstacles.

The course ran for six weeks covering ballistics, marksmanship and field craft. This included developing observation skills through binoculars and spotting scopes, judging distance without any aids, interpreting aerial photography, navigating by day and night, camouflage and concealment to blend in with the surrounding area, and the art of stalking.

Back then we used the 7.62 mm Accuracy International L96 rifle with a Leupold fixed 8-power magnification scope. The rifle had been developed by Malcolm Cooper, who was a British sport shooter. Cooper was the founder of Accuracy International and the holder of two Olympic gold medals in the 50-metre shooting event. The rifle itself was very accurate producing good hits out to 800 metres. Its predecessor, the SR98 (also known as AW) was also extremely accurate and in the right hands could produce a tight group at 1,000 metres. This weapon is fitted with a Schmidt & Bender variable power scope. But for this course we used the L96.

Every course starts with theory lessons in ballistics, optics and the weapons you'll use. Each student needs to have a good understanding of the equipment, and ballistics is taught in depth. He must understand what will happen to the projectile in flight and in different conditions so he can make the necessary adjustments to his scope before firing. Once the theory lessons finished we spent a week or so on the range, sometimes conducting judging distance (JDs) or observation (OBs) practices in between. After the range week we then concentrated on tactics, navigation and stalking. During the ‘static nav' (fixing your position by reference to the surrounding topography) the DS often pointed out small buildings and track or creek junctions far into the distance that we had to plot on a map, give an eight-figure grid reference, a back bearing and also a magnetic and grid bearing, all timed. This proved to be quite difficult at times but I enjoyed mastering the art.

There was a lot of emphasis on field craft and they ran a couple of exercises running for 36 hours. One scenario was a possible enemy meeting taking place at a prominent point on a series of cross-country tracks. We were given a six-figure grid reference and had to ‘yomp' into the area at night, identify (ID) the possible meeting point and dig in a belly hide with some OHP, which had to be finished by first light. It was quite a demanding task as we were working only in pairs.

I was paired with ‘Keith' who turned out to be a top bloke. We finished the hide before first light but were absolutely knackered and there was no time to sleep. The rain started as usual and for the rest of that day lying up in the belly hide we worked on our range cards and continually observed our arc and reported on any activity. On darkness we still had to maintain our security, so only one of us slept at a time–hour on, hour off. We also had to keep an ear out for the radio. The night seemed to drag on forever, but shortly after first light our targets appeared. We were given the ‘stand by' over the radio and then came the command to fire. All four shooters of the two-man teams fired at the same time, which is quite a good option to guarantee a hit. The DS then came around to critique our hides and give further advice. We got a kick in the arse for our radio antenna being visible.

We conducted a couple more stalks on Woodbury Common towards the end of that week. The common can be a nightmare at times to conduct a stalk, as in places the ground doesn't offer much cover or freedom of movement from the observers. This meant your movements had to be slow and deliberate. Most of the common is covered in heather and gorse; the gorse can be helpful at times to mask movement, but when it grows higher than usual you need to avoid it because it becomes a prominent reference point that attracts the eye of the observer. The height of the foliage meant that more often than not we had to find a firing location that suited the prone position. Sometimes we could find a ‘keyhole' that allowed us to shoot through gaps in the foliage from behind a rudimentary tripod made from sticks lashed together. In fact that's the firing position I used to pass my badge stalk.

The following week we travelled to Torpoint to use the Tregantle rifle range, which at that time went as far back as 800 metres. The facility is in quite a nice location, situated on the western side of the River Tamar and not too far from the coast. It made for a nice break in the routine and I scored well on the range.

Back at Woodbury Common we continued with observation practices, JDs, nav, panoramic sketching and stalks. Because Woodbury is open for civilian use it's not uncommon to see day walkers passing through the area and that can lead to some amusing situations. During one stalk two middle-aged couples were slowly making their way along one of the dirt tracks that criss-crossed the common. The track ran between us and the observers, who were sitting in folding chairs up a small hill trying to observe us with binoculars. They were approximately 300 metres from the track; all I had was around 30 metres of knee-high heather between me and the well-worn dirt track.

The two women paused and let their two male companions walk on. I had been slowly making my way towards a firing position that wasn't too far from the edge of the track. The two women then proceeded to look around the immediate area. I was crouched down but motionless and heavily camouflaged with cam cream on my face and wearing a ghillie suit (a heavily camouflaged suit) with some local foliage placed behind the elastic straps around the shoulders and in my hat. My weapon had been camouflaged using a combination of scrim and hessian. They looked straight at me but appeared not to see me. Suddenly one of the women dropped her trousers, squatted on the track and started to relieve herself. I cracked up laughing but had to do it quietly due to the close proximity.

She finished and moved off, then I heard movement to my left; it was one of the walkers, an observing DS who acts on command of the observer. He had seen me moving towards my final position and was coming across to confirm what he had just seen. The walkers are in clean skin (standard olive drab shirt and trousers) armed with only a radio and pointer. Not giving my position away we had a childish giggle about it and so too did the observers via hand-held radio.

Woodbury Common was also the home to a small population of roe deer, and during another stalk I got within 10 metres of a small buck. I lay motionless and enjoyed the moment.

The best phase of the course was conducted at Sennybridge, South Wales. This was a field firing week with some night nav thrown in. We put into practice most of what we had learnt to date. We had to sketch a ‘panoramic' adding prominent features and key ranges. Once finished, we shot from 100 metres out to 1,000 metres, making adjustments for range and wind, recording every adjustment. We would record weather conditions, light, temperature, wind strength and direction, range, type and weight of rounds used. All this detailed work would provide a reference in similar conditions to guarantee a first-round hit.

We would also record the characteristics of the first round fired. This is known as a ‘cold barrel' or ‘cold bore' shot. Rounds fired through a warm barrel have slightly different characteristics. A selection course for 22 SAS had started while we were there and they stayed at the same camps as us. We didn't see too much of the selection course but we did have a few beers with some of the DS at a local pub. Their stories fuelled my desire to join them.

Soon came badge week, the final testing period. If we failed one test during this week we failed the whole course; it didn't matter how well we had done previously. The final test is a 2,000-metre approach to a designated area between 200 and 400 metres from the observers. Sniper instructors are equipped with standard issue binoculars to observe between the arcs of the stalking zone.

At the start of the course we all make the same mistake as young apprentice snipers and will try to get as close as possible to the target because we are not yet confident of our skill. As the course progresses confidence picks up in marksmanship and field craft, allowing us to work out the optimum position within the zone.

The further back you are, the less likely it is that you're going to be seen. In fact, when I reach a position where I have clear line of sight to the target, I turn 180 degrees so I can take in the scene from the observer's viewpoint. I look for positions that provide me with better cover, more depth, avoid silhouettes, a good background, and a position that will allow clear trajectory of the round without striking any objects during its flight. Once in position I make a practice of removing the bolt from the rifle, and then with the correct range set, I place the scope's crosshairs on the target. Without moving the rifle, I look through the barrel checking to see if there is any foliage in the way of the initial path the round is going to take. If there is you're going to have to go out and cut it, or if possible and time permitting change your position. Looking through the scope will give you line of sight from your eye to the target–an imaginary straight line. The flight path of the bullet (projectile) is different. It will be an arc. This is due to various reasons, muzzle velocity and gravity being the two main ones.

The successful stalk is getting into an area undetected, finding the target or observers, finding a suitable hide or concealed position and calculating the correct firing solution to the hit the target. You may even have to construct your hide from foliage or material brought in from some distance away, always making sure you remain concealed and that the foliage is the same as your surroundings. You build your fire position checking you have a clear path for the projectile's course. You adjust for wind if you have to, add the range then, using all the marksmanship principles correctly, fire the shot–obviously you're using blanks. The sniper is being assessed on his application of field craft and his understanding of weather conditions and distance with only his binoculars and rifle scope as aids.

If you have been detected by an observer at any stage during the stalk a walker is coached on to the suspected sniper position via radio. The walker will not assist the observer in any way, and will only act on instructions he is given until he places his hand on the suspected sniper.

Army and Royal Marine snipers are awarded the same qualification badge: crossed rifles with the letter ‘S' to be worn on the left sleeve of the dress uniform. A Royal Marine sniper is also accredited with the Platoon Weapons 3 (PW3) qualification.

From our course of 16, eight of us passed–a 50 per cent pass rate is quite common. There had been previous courses where only one bloke had passed, which was pretty tough on the lads who had performed well all course but then had one bad day when the pressure was on. As a sniper on an operational task, you can't afford to have one bad day. This may sound tough, but you are the most hunted and feared opponent of your enemy, and there is nothing they'd like more than to kill a trained sniper. And a lack in concentration or laziness will give them this chance.

During the course of my time in BPT I had submitted my notice for discharge, which back then was 18 months notice. So in March 1996 I went back to 40 Commando and then joined them in April for the final six weeks of their Northern Ireland deployment. This time we were based in County Tyrone, but a ceasefire had been called and the tour wasn't as active as the 1993 trip. The patrolling and security programs continued as normal but my heart really wasn't in it.

For the six weeks I was away I really missed George. When we returned to Taunton it was terrific to be back with her again but the truth was I'd had enough of living in the UK. I'd been there seven years and it was time to go home.

George and I began planning our future together. I had an idea for an outdoor lifestyle operation in New Zealand where I'd be able to put all my training to good use. I thought about buying a few acres to set it up as a training ground getting the young and adventurous fit, and older people back into shape. There was an area on the Coromandel Peninsula, a short boat ride from Auckland Harbour that I reckoned was just right. So in late 1996 I headed back to New Zealand for five weeks leave. George would follow a few weeks later when her holidays came through. It would give her the chance to look the place over before we made any final decision about where we'd make our life together. What I didn't see before I got there was that New Zealand had recently been the subject of a property and housing boom and land was now well out of my reach.

While I was waiting for George to arrive I took the opportunity to do some hunting with my mates and had an absolute ball. When George arrived she took to New Zealand immediately and after two weeks of showing her around we flew to Fiji where we'd decided to get married. The honeymoon came first, at Musket Cove resort on an outlying island, Malolo Lailai. We snorkelled, scuba dived and enjoyed the friendly island life. The wedding day started with a flight back to the Fiji mainland, and we made it official on 16 December 1996 at the Nadi registry office. I didn't make it the best experience for George as I was suffering a huge hangover at the time given to me care of the two-dollar bar. The subject does surface from time to time.