James White is a WWII Marine Veteran, NRA Instructor, Former ORA President, and Distinguished Marksman. He served the ORA for many years and began the Sharpshooter. These writings are from the Sharpshooter archives and his personal collection.
“Razorback Six, Razorback Forward.”
“Go ahead, Razorback Forward.”
“How do you read me?”
“Five by five.”
“This is Lieutenant Tilly. I need to talk with the captain.”
“Wait one, Sir.”
Thirty seconds later, “Captain Kelso. What’s up, lieutenant?”
“Sir, we have a situation.”
“Talk to me.”
“Sir, not on the air. I need a face to face.”
“Then come on in and we’ll talk.”
“Not possible, Sir. We have no operable vehicles here. Did you hear the shooting yesterday evening?”
“No. I guess that range of hills cut you off. Why didn’t you report in when the shooting started?”
“Not on the air, Sir. You need to come see this.”
“Curiosity overwhelms me. I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”
“Ride wide, Sir. Stay off the road. We have ramps for that dry gulch.”
“Will do. Twenty minutes. Six out.”
The captain laid down the microphone and started into space. Lieutenant Williams, the executive officer, was still in the hospital. He turned toward the doorway. “” First sergeant,” he called.
A man poked his head in the doorway and said, “Yes, Sir.”
“Joe, get the Hummer. I want you with me. We need to go see what it is that has Lieutenant Tilly all stirred up.”
”Right away, Sir.”
The captain waved at the two soldiers on guard at the gulch and they waved back. The gulch, as they called it, was a dry wash, ten feet deep and twenty feet wide. Twenty feet of the banks on either side had been caved in and the dirt used to make ramps that enabled vehicles to cross the gulch. The ramps were in sight of a building.
The Hummer approached the back of the large, two story building from the east. Bodies lying on the ground were visible on the south and east sides of the building. As the Hummer rounded the north corner of the building a large open expanse was literally covered with bodies.
“Wait a minute, Joe,” the captain said. “I’ll get out and drag some of the bodies out of the way.” The captain didn’t get back in the Hummer, but followed as the first sergeant drove up and stopped near the front entrance to the building. Lieutenant Tilly met them at the front door. The two officers greeted each other.
Captain Kelso turned and swept a hand in the direction of the open area with the bodies. “You’ve been busy, Lieutenant.” The lieutenant didn’t reply. “How many casualties do you have?” the captain asked.
“Just one, Sir. A machine gunner was wounded when his gun was hit by a bullet and disabled. Then the bullet, or something, hit Walker in the shoulder.”
“When was this?” the captain asked
“A little after1700 yesterday.”
“Why hasn’t Walker been medevac’d?”
“Sir, I have a sort of office over there in the corner. Let’s go there. I need to start at the beginning.” The captain followed Tilly to a desk and two chairs, one chair behind the desk, one in front of it.
“Take the chair behind the desk, Sir. This other one has a couple of bullet holes in its back and a lot of splinters. And Sir, don’t hesitate to stop me if you have questions.” The captain nodded.
“We came here yesterday morning. I sent out some patrols and they came back with nothing—no men, no women and children in the area or in any of the buildings. I set up the machine guns and assigned areas to cover.”
“Let’s see, you have 34 people.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“I want the first sergeant in on this.” The first sergeant had a couple of soldiers that he was “instructing.” The captain caught his eye and signaled the sergeant. When the first sergeant reached Lieutenant Tilly and him the captain said, “Okay Lieutenant.”
“Yes, Sir. It started a little after 1700. They came in from the west. That put the sun in our eyes. When I attempted to report the attack I found that there was interference on every frequency I tried. They had some sort of device, like a scanner, that caused howls and squeals on a frequency when it was tuned. We tried cell phones and the satellite phone. No joy on any of them. In the meantime, they were pretty much keeping our heads down with rifle fire. What with the windows and the layout, this building was not meant to be defended. We rigged some periscopes. One man almost lost an eye when his periscope was hit. But he’s okay now, no glass in his eye.”
The lieutenant shook his head slowly. “Then we noticed some of the bad guys were falling, but very few of us were shooting at them. The whole thing was over in less than ten minutes—maybe closer to five minutes. Every single one of the bad guys was down. Many of them were shot twice. If a bad guy was moving after he fell he was shot again, usually a head shot.”
“A lot of automatic fire?”
“None, Sir.”
“None?”
“None of the bad guys had automatic weapons. We found no AK47s. They had SKS and AKM semi-auto rifles only.”
Again the lieutenant looked down at the floor and slowly shook his head. “For several minutes there were individual shots hitting downed bad guys then everything was dead quiet for a couple of minutes. We began to hear shouts from some distance away. As the voices came closer we understood them to say for us not to shoot, to cease firing. They were good guys and they were coming in. Two men showed up. One came from the northwest and the other from the southeast. I met them at the door.
“One of them said to the other that this isn’t a headquarters. Then he asked me where our base was. I told them how to get to the compound. The other one said something like, ‘You guys look like everything is okay.’ Then they left, just slung their rifles and walked away. I started to try to stop them, but for some reason I didn’t.”
The lieutenant shrugged. “Just before 0700 the interference on the radio and the cell phones began to be intermittent and final stopped. I guess the battery ran down. That’s when I called in.”
The captain nodded. “Could you tell who those men were.”
“The sun was behind them and they were silhouetted. I couldn’t tell much about them. And frankly, Sir, I was in a state of almost shock. I wasn’t thinking too clearly.”
“How many bad guys?”
“We counted 74 bodies, Sir.”
“How many got away, do you suppose?”
“None, Sir.” When the captain’s eyebrows raised, the lieutenant said, “Eight of them tried to get away. They’re up on the road, all dead. Nobody got away and every last one of them is dead.”
The captain made a movement with his head then asked, “Is Walker ambulatory?” Lieutenant Tilly nodded. “Let’s go see him.” He turned to the first sergeant. “Joe, after we talk to him take Walker back to the compound. Then nose around and try to find out if those two men showed up there last night.”
“Yes. Sir.”
The wounded soldier was sitting on a table. “Walker, how are you doing?”
“I’ve been better, captain.”
“Well, in about thirty minutes you’ll be doing a lot better. Go with the first sergeant. Need some help?” Walker shook his head, no.
The captain took out his cell phone and pressed a speed dial number.
After three rings a deep voice answered, “Lieutenant Colonel Bozekas.”
“Sir, Captain Kelso.”
“And what can I do for you on this fine morning, Frank?”
“Colonel, I’m at that village we occupied yesterday. You need to see how things are here. I’m hesitant to tell you why on the phone.”
“Okay, but I need to do some rat killing here before I can leave.”
“Lieutenant Tilly advises to stay off the roads.”
“Will do. I’ll be there in, say, 45 minutes.” The call ended.
The colonel stood in the doorway, hands on hips, surveying the open expanse in front of the building, looking at all the bodies. He was a stump of a man, wide shouldered and slim hipped. He turned to Lieutenant Tilly and said, “I must say, lieutenant, that you did a job here.”
“It wasn’t us, Sir.”
The colonel frowned, “oh?”
The captain said, “Colonel, let’s go inside. Lieutenant Tilly has a tale to tell. It’ll be explained in a few minutes, that is, most of it will be explained.”
A few more chairs had been rustled up, none with splintered bullet holes in their backs.
After Lieutenant Tilly had told of the events of the previous evening, the colonel asked, “So you have 74 dead bad guys, none were left wounded, and none escaped. Two men did all of that with rifle fire. I think we should take a little trip.” He raised his voice, “Sergeant Johansen.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“You need to chauffer three officers who are too lazy and tired to walk a few hundred yards.” Sergeant Johansen smiled.
“I think I see it,” said Captain Kelso.
“Drive up in back of it,” said the colonel. “I want to check something.”
A hole had been dug, a few inches deep, like a shallow grave, with the long axis in line with the building. Dirt from the hole had been packed in the front and sides of the hole. The hole was northwest of the building and possibly twenty feet higher. The hole was deeper at the back, so that the bottom was relatively level. The front and right side of the hole had a large number of fired cartridge cases laying on the ground. The colonel knelt down in the hole and picked up a case, a 7.62x51MM. The case head marking was ‘LC 12’. He looked toward the building. He stood and removed a Leica binocular from its case. He focused on a lighted spot near the front door. The Leica had a laser range finder. “274 yards and not a bit of cover or concealment all the way to the building. Anyone on the north and west of the building would be fair game. I’d bet that there’s most likely a similar set up southeast of the building.” He beckoned that they should get back in the Hummer. “They probably located their firing positions so the building would be in the way to keep from shooting each other.”
Back at Tilly’s “office” the colonel asked, “Frank, can you think of a reason we should continue to occupy this building?”
The captain answered, “I was going to suggest, colonel, that we move Lieutenant Tilly’s platoon back to the compound.”
“Make it happen,” said the colonel.
“Lieutenant,” said the captain, “I’ll have the first sergeant start some trucks here to you. Get your gear flanged up. Leave nothing that wasn’t here when you arrived here. Except, maybe Walker’s blood.”
“What about—“Tilly pointed to the front of the building, “all of the bodies?”
Colonel Bozekas spoke up, “They’re not your responsibility any more. Let the dead bury the dead.”
Almost an hour later, Lieutenant Tilly came into Captain Kelso’s office. “We’re back, ”he said.
“Pull up a chair,” the captain said. “The first sergeant has found out some things. Go ahead, Joe.”
“Yes, Sir. The two men showed up here at the compound after dark. They asked where it was and then found the mess hall. When they asked if they could get something to eat, the Spec Five on duty told them it was too long after mess call. They’d have to wait until morning. They left, I understand, without making a fuss. Then they came here, not to battalion headquarters. The OD was sacked out and they asked the sergeant of the guard if we had any spare racks.”
“Racks?” asked Tilly.
“Bunks, Lieutenant, places to sleep. The sergeant of the guard told them no, there were none. They left and went to the building next to this one, the one with the overhanging roof. Sergeant Melinas watched them. They cleaned their rifles and then Melinas told me he lost track of them. I was here pretty early and saw them get up. They had slept on the ground under the wide roof. They went to the latrine and then up to the mess hall.”
“I sure hope they got some breakfast,” the captain said.
The first sergeant smiled. “They then went back to the latrine. I got busy and lost track of them. But they showed up a few minutes ago and they’re out in the outer office.”
“Send them in,” said the captain.
A minute later, two men came into the office. Both were wearing helmets, vests with magazines, with haversack back packs that had folding entrenching tools in pouches attached to the top flap. They came to attention, six feet in front of the desk, with their rifles at Order Arms. One man made a nearly inaudible signal, a kind of grunt, and they both swung their left hands, palms down, until the fingers touched their rifles near the muzzles. After a few seconds, Captain Kelso realized they were saluting. He raised his right hand to his brow. When he dropped the hand both men swung their left hands back to their sides. Then both men, almost in unison, said, “Good Morning, Sir.”
The captain said, “At Ease. Rest.” Both men came to a position more like Parade Rest than At Ease.
“Might I ask who you are?”
The man on the captain’s left said, “Amos, Sir, Corporal.”
The other man said, “Bradley, Sir, Lance Corporal.”
So, they were Marines. “We are most appreciative of what you did yesterday. You probably saved a platoon from being overrun.”
“I wanted to warn them in the building but I didn’t think I’d be able to get back to my position on the hill without being seen by the bad guys,” the corporal said. “But it worked out okay, Sir.”
The colonel was in a chair in the corner of the office. “I’d like to ask a few questions.”
Not having noticed the colonel, the two Marines turned to face him then realizing who and what he was, they both came to Attention.
“As you were. Relax.” Both men went back to Parade Rest. “What weapons are those that you have?”
The corporal seemed to be the spokesman for the two Marines. “They’re something like AR10s, Sir. Our battalion commander finagled them.”
“Ever use an M4? Being shorter, it would be more convenient for house to house fighting,” the captain said.
“I never was a door kicker, Sir. My first tour was in Iraq but I never was in Fallujah or Ramadi. This is my second tour in Afghanistan. An M4 doesn’t have the range for here, besides having too many malfunctions.”
“Haven’t you had malfunctions with your AR10,” the colonel asked.
“No, Sir.” Amos turned to the other man, “How ‘bout you, Brad?”
Bradley shook his head, “No.”
Colonel Bozekas decided to bring the other man into the conversation. “Lance Corporal Bradley, what’s the power of your scope sight?”
“I’m not sure, Sir, but I think it’s four power. But it’s nice and clear and has a good, wide field of view.”
“Do you ever fire full auto, or is it three-round-burst with the AR10?”
“Me. Sir?” The colonel nodded. Bradly shook his head. “Neither one, Sir. Full auto is not possible and not needed. If I need more than one shot, that’s what the trigger is for. How ‘bout you, Amos, do you miss full auto or 3-round burst?”
Corporal Amos shook his head. “Not with this rifle.”
How was it that you two Marines were at the right place, and at just the right time,” the captain asked
The expression on the corporal’s face changed. He turned to face his buddy, who gave a small shrug. The corporal turned back but looked over the captain’s head. “We’re AWOL, Sir,” he said in a quiet voice.
Captain Kelso asked, “Where were you going, while you were AWOL?”
“Sir, we were trying to get back to our outfit.”
“Where were you coming from?
“Sir, Brad and I are from the same Company. We were in the hospital. We heard that our unit is being sent back to the States. We wanted to be with them when they went. When we asked the head nurse, she’s a lieutenant commander, if we could get our gear and be released from the hospital, she said no dice. Even when we explained why we wanted to be released, she told us that we weren’t scheduled to be released, me for ten days, Brad for seventeen more days. We found out where our gear was and two days ago we left the hospital. We went to where our company should have been but they weren’t there. But we know where they are and if we can get there in the next day and a half, we’re home free.”
“You both have been wounded?”
“Yes, Sir, Brad got a bullet in his left upper arm and I got some RPG fragments in my right thigh and hip. We’d have been here sooner but we went to your hospital. They fixed us up and changed our bandages. They even gave us anti-biotic shots. You have some good folks there. But they wanted to keep us there. I guess we get in trouble wherever we go.”
The captain noticed bloodstains on the corporal’s right hip. He checked and the other man’s left upper arm had bloodstains. There were no holes so it was probably bleeding that occurred after they left the hospital.
The corporal shuffled his feet and then asked, as if he hated doing it. “Sir, would yon have any 7.62 ammo? We’re getting a little low. Do you have any 7.62 ?”
The first sergeant piped up. “Sir, we have that Long Range Special Ball for our M21s. But we can’t spare any magazines”
“Perfect,” Amos said. “We don’t need magazines, just the ammo.
“Okay, follow me.”
Both Marines came to Attention and repeated the salute with their rifles at Order Arms. They held that position until the captain returned their salute. Then both men executed an about face and followed the first sergeant out of the office.
Lieutenant Colonel Bozekas stood and walked to the door, which he closed. With his hands behind his back and looking down at the floor he strolled back and forth in the office.
“So, we have two Marines who had the initiative and the smarts to pull off a perfect ambush, and a highly successful one. They did it with rifle fire. Oh, they were lucky, all right. But as they say, I’d rather be lucky than good. But they were both lucky and good.
“They knew their rifles and how to use them. And they had good rifles. The AR10 is a full sized rifle with a four power scope sight.
“Bear with an old soldier. Before I was commissioned I was on two rifle teams, one at Ft. Riley in Kansas and one at Ft. Bliss in Texas.
The Army then was like the Marines still are. They still believed in rifles as offensive weapons.
“I made two trips to Camp Perry, Ohio to shoot in the National Rifle Matches. I also went to Ft. Niagara in New York before the second trip to Perry. I had showed some skill in shooting the Infantry Trophy match. We practiced that match at Ft. Niagara.
“The Infantry Trophy Match is called the Rattle Battle because of the sound of the firing. It simulates a small squad up against a larger unit. It really demonstrates what rifles can do when used properly. A good soldier or Marine Rattle Battle shooter can get just under 40 hits on a silhouette that is 19 inches wide and 40 inches tall—at 600 yards. The target is exposed for 50 seconds, but they probably get hits on its way up out of the pits and on its way down. Of course, conditions are ideal, with the targets in plain sight. And with nobody shooting back. But there are no sighting shots and no alibis. If a rifle malfunctions, the shooter has to do what he can to get it functioning again.
“At Camp Perry a large number of six-man teams are lined up in position, ready to shoot. They start from the 600 yard firing line, in the prone position. The rifles are the Service Rifle, with issue metallic sights. My team shot M14 rifles but almost all teams today use AR15 or M16 rifles. It’s an eye-opening experience to see what’s possible with a service rifle. And the Army has the best service rifle shooters on earth on the main team at Ft. Benning.
“But in the 1980s the Army deemed that personal rifles were not offensive weapons. Their purpose was personal defense and defense of the more productive weapons, like artillery. This thinking devolved until the main service rifle is now the M4, a sorry example of a weapon, underpowered and its short, light barrel overheats when fired a lot, such as in a combat situation, causing malfunctions.”
The colonel opened the door. “Captain, ask the first sergeant to bring those two Marines in here. I’d like to ask them some more questions.”
Captain Kelso called out, ”Joe, I need you.” When the first sergeant stood in the doorway he said, “Bring those two Marines in here.”
The first sergeant said, “They’re gone, Sir.”
“Gone?”
“Yes Sir, A truck convoy left and the two Marines went with it.”
“Did they get ammo?”
“Yes, Sir. One of them told me that it was from the same lot number that they’d been shooting.
Lieutenant Tilly said, “You said they left by truck. Don’t the trucks have radios? We could get them back here.”
The colonel raised a hand. “Let’s not do that. The best thing that could happen is for those two to get back to their unit in time to go with it to the States. It could be an administrative nightmare if those two don’t make it.”
The first sergeant raised his hand, then said, “I have a buddy, a chief pharmacist’s mate who is stationed at that naval hospital. I called him and asked about two Marines named Amos and Bradley. He looked them up and there have been no patients at that hospital with those names. I didn’t mention anything about Marines leaving before their release from the hospital. The chief told me the hospital was downsizing and a lot of people, including staff, have left. That head nurse, the lieutenant commander, was one of them.”
Colonel Bozekas smiled. “Do you suppose that Amos and Bradley might be false names, or more likely, given names like Amos Dudley or Bradley Stark?”
“How can we recommend those two Marines for decorations for what they did if we don’t know their names,” said the lieutenant.
The captain said, “I don’t believe they expect to be decorated. I agree with the colonel, that rejoining their unit will be the best outcome for them.”
The colonel looked at Lieutenant Tilly. “Lieutenant, you seem to have been unduly disturbed by the sight of so many dead bad guys and by what an almost impossible task it would have been to bury them. A leader of men in combat must be a warrior. Warriors must learn to inure themselves to the sight of death. You have a report to write. I don’t see how the report could possibly relate what actually took place yesterday. Let me suggest that you write that your platoon, under my orders, made a reconnaissance patrol yesterday. Include the name of that village. The patrol was attacked but the attack was unsuccessful and the attackers were killed. You don’t need to say by whom. The platoon returned to the compound. Make the report short and sweet and I’ll approve it. Now, word about what actually happened will leak out. It can’t be expected that your people will keep quiet about it. And they’ll have cell phone pictures. It should be legal and permitted to kill bad guys if they attack, but I surmise that the fur will fly because we didn’t give them a decent, if not a Christian, burial. That would have been too much of a job. I intend to take all of the blame if it comes to that. I have enough time in grade as a light colonel that my retirement won’t be affected and I have no hope, at my age, of being a bird colonel. I’m ready if I have to retire.
“I know you all have things to do and I didn’t get all of my rat killing done this morning, so I bid you Good Day.” As the colonel was leaving, the captain and lieutenant stood and saluted, but the colonel didn’t notice. He was calling for Sgt. Johansen.
James S. White
Duncan, Oklahoma, 3-14
