Shooter_ The Autobiography of the Top-Ranked Marine Sniper - Jack Coughlin [14]
That, and more, is exactly what I planned to do during Project Metropolis, which was why I was out walking the deserted streets in a rainstorm. An attacking force has a tall order to fill when it tries to advance through warrens of buildings, maneuver through tight doorways, and run across open areas, snoop around corners, and wiggle through windows. From the point of view of a defending sniper like me, things couldn’t be much better. The historical casualty rate for an attacking unit in such fighting was estimated at 30 percent, and I intended to keep it at least at that level. This was my town, and it was golden with opportunity.
After my unauthorized tour, we went to work on insertion tactics to determine ways to get into the fighting zone, and then I took the boys inside the city to set up hides. In a real combat situation, we would have gotten into position early, so why not do the same in a war game? And why not do it in secret? We would never tell the enemy what we were doing. We established excellent rooftop positions, found spots deep in the shadows inside the buildings, arranged some other sneaky hides, and made ourselves at home.
Then we practiced moving quickly and aggressively from one hide to the next, taking advantage of the cluttered urban terrain. I had no intention of being a sitting target for a bunch of tanks and artillery or being overrun by infantry troops. In this miniwar, we would be fine just sneaking from one position of cover to another, but I could not help thinking of the future. When a real fight came along, we would need solid, hardened vehicles to safely cover long, exposed distances, and I wanted other Marines around to protect us with additional firepower, so we could concentrate on dominating the battle. Moving from place to place alone or with just another sniper would leave us much too vulnerable. Without good protection, survivability became the ultimate issue, and a dead sniper is useless.
For ProMet, though, our boots would serve us fine, and by the time the other side got to where we had been hiding, we should already be gone. Let them try to find us. Urban sniper movement can be a bitch to solve, and combat in tight quarters can be a terrifying business. Streets and alleys are ready-made kill zones, and closely packed buildings are obstacles for troops and vehicles alike. We could pop somebody from a rooftop and two minutes later be shooting from behind a bunch of street junk, staying on the move.
Instead of real bullets, everyone would be firing lasers and would be festooned with MILES gear, electronic devices that simulate shots from the various weapons. A hit triggers buzzers on the web gear and helmets of the “enemy” soldiers, and a person who is hit immediately lies down and pretends to be dead. He cannot give advice, talk on the radio, or participate in the fight in any way. All he can do is lie on his ass and wonder what hit him.
Our targets, I reminded the boys, were not the grunts in front. We wanted to reach over their heads and touch more important targets. Get the officers first, then any enemy snipers who might threaten us, then go after their forward observers and senior sergeants. In other words, decapitate the leadership. Next would be the crew-served weapons like big machine guns and rocket launchers. In a real war, we would also shoot the radios themselves. Put a bullet in the operator, and someone else can pick up the handset and make a call. Put the radio out of commission, and the operator makes no difference whatsoever. There was a whole long list after that, but the important thing for them to remember was to shoot priority targets that could make a difference, then get away from the advancing troops and do it again.
By the time I finished my final walk-through, visualizing the coming battle, and returned to my room, I was