Well, now that I'm back, I've just finished reading a book which all rifle shooters and sniping enthusiasts will enjoy. It's about Marine sniper Eric England, who became a distinguished shooter in '52 and was awarded his medal by no less a marine than the legendary Chesty Puller himself. A contemporary of Hathcock, England won the Leech Cup at about the same time Hathcock won the Wimbledon.
Rather than drone on about England, I'll quote from the book about how he dealt with a NVA sniper who harassed the marine oupost at Con Thien:
"Eric imparted more confidence. 'Gonna have us a turkey shoot! No need to crawl after this feller. He'll pop up and we'll pop him. From right here, on the perimeter.'
"The Captain and the Corporal smirked with contagious courage.
"'We're still in Charlie's sights. 1090 yards. Take 'im out Eric.' G.B. spoke with cool professionalism, peering over the sandbags with the 20x spotter scope. Eric readied his rifle like a pool hustler would uncase his custom-made cue.
"'That far, huh?' the Captain remarked. "Well, let's see it!"
"'I'm gonna rise to draw his fire again. He thinks we still don't know where he is. He'll clock out for the day, or else move to a different hide, after another two shots or so. We gotta make this a reverse turkey shoot.'
"Eric poked his head up, then stood and shifted nonchalantly about for five seconds, spewed a stream of 'backa juice over the side, then ducked down fast. As expected, another enemy round passed directly overhead, where Eric's silhouette had been briefly but gravely exposed.
"'Just as I figgered!' Eric gleefully announced, squatting back down by the men after peering over the sandbags with the 'nocs. 'Saw 'im, wigglin' 'round up yonder. Now, we'll just register the site for our good friend, Arty - get a white phosphorous round dropped on that spot, or onto that rock overhang just above him - and let Willie Pete flush the little teaser out like a turkey!'
"The Captain got on his field phone and called is commander. A "spotter" fire mission was requested, and within moments the deadly fireball would be enroute. 'Arty's party," the Captain grinned as he clicked off.
"They stayed low as Erice readied his scoped 30-06. Peeking over the sandbags through his 'nocs again, he did not detect any further movement. Then the WP shell hurtled in, striking within reasonable proximity to the rock overhang to the left of the slight knoll. Soon the burning white phosphorous was slinging down onto the suspected hideout of the taunting turkey.
"The NVA shooter lept screaming from the assumed security of his lair, in a futile struggle to remove the sizzling substance from his body. It spread to his hands by touch, as he ran wildly about the knoll, thrashing in agony.
"Eric stood up quickly, got him fixed several times in his crosshairs as he moved erratically, then led him as he lunged to the left. The scope being zerored at 1000head height to strike the chest, but the turkey kept gyrating.
"Following the target's movements for a clean shot, he noticed another NVA rushing up to aid the sizzler. As the sizzler lunged toward the right, Eric engagedthe trigger mechanism to slam a .30-06 round precisely through the mid-chest. As the new NVA stopped in his tracks in horror, another Winchester round made true its mark as well.
"Then by surprise three other NVA popped up through the scrub brush, apparently attempting to evade the flaming fury of the WP now tormenting their own arms and backs. Running wildly down the slight incline, no perfect head or or heart shot could be expected. Yet Eric's 'miniature artillery' rounds halted the tide, as two of the NVA went down hard and fast, their chests and backs erupting with red spew, leaving a sizeable cavity where none had been before.
"Eric rapidly ejected his brass and chambereda fifth round. By now G.B. was scoped in on the action, taking out the last NVA as he fell forward, drilling a round precisely through the crow of his head. He kicked in a spasmodic, neurological revolt.
"As Eric reloaded, he wheeled 20 degrees left and squeezed off another round into the back of yet another NVA who was trying desperately to roll off the hill. He jerked, then slid a few feet downards, leaving a short bloody trail in the sands of Con Thien - 'The Hill of Angels.'"
Other exploits of MSG England include using a black lab to flush out snipers from their spider holes, training other marines to become snipers, and special missions. While England's bag is not mentioned, per the Chandler Brothers (Death From Afar, Vol II, pg 72) he is not far behind Hathcock.
You can order the book for
[TFL note: 04/11/2011: Dr. Turner informs us this book is no longer in print. rjl]
Joseph Blair Turner
Nathan House Publishers
P.O. Box 1696
Oakwood, GA 30566
------------------
Vigilantibus et non dormientibus jura subveniunt
Rather than drone on about England, I'll quote from the book about how he dealt with a NVA sniper who harassed the marine oupost at Con Thien:
"Eric imparted more confidence. 'Gonna have us a turkey shoot! No need to crawl after this feller. He'll pop up and we'll pop him. From right here, on the perimeter.'
"The Captain and the Corporal smirked with contagious courage.
"'We're still in Charlie's sights. 1090 yards. Take 'im out Eric.' G.B. spoke with cool professionalism, peering over the sandbags with the 20x spotter scope. Eric readied his rifle like a pool hustler would uncase his custom-made cue.
"'That far, huh?' the Captain remarked. "Well, let's see it!"
"'I'm gonna rise to draw his fire again. He thinks we still don't know where he is. He'll clock out for the day, or else move to a different hide, after another two shots or so. We gotta make this a reverse turkey shoot.'
"Eric poked his head up, then stood and shifted nonchalantly about for five seconds, spewed a stream of 'backa juice over the side, then ducked down fast. As expected, another enemy round passed directly overhead, where Eric's silhouette had been briefly but gravely exposed.
"'Just as I figgered!' Eric gleefully announced, squatting back down by the men after peering over the sandbags with the 'nocs. 'Saw 'im, wigglin' 'round up yonder. Now, we'll just register the site for our good friend, Arty - get a white phosphorous round dropped on that spot, or onto that rock overhang just above him - and let Willie Pete flush the little teaser out like a turkey!'
"The Captain got on his field phone and called is commander. A "spotter" fire mission was requested, and within moments the deadly fireball would be enroute. 'Arty's party," the Captain grinned as he clicked off.
"They stayed low as Erice readied his scoped 30-06. Peeking over the sandbags through his 'nocs again, he did not detect any further movement. Then the WP shell hurtled in, striking within reasonable proximity to the rock overhang to the left of the slight knoll. Soon the burning white phosphorous was slinging down onto the suspected hideout of the taunting turkey.
"The NVA shooter lept screaming from the assumed security of his lair, in a futile struggle to remove the sizzling substance from his body. It spread to his hands by touch, as he ran wildly about the knoll, thrashing in agony.
"Eric stood up quickly, got him fixed several times in his crosshairs as he moved erratically, then led him as he lunged to the left. The scope being zerored at 1000head height to strike the chest, but the turkey kept gyrating.
"Following the target's movements for a clean shot, he noticed another NVA rushing up to aid the sizzler. As the sizzler lunged toward the right, Eric engagedthe trigger mechanism to slam a .30-06 round precisely through the mid-chest. As the new NVA stopped in his tracks in horror, another Winchester round made true its mark as well.
"Then by surprise three other NVA popped up through the scrub brush, apparently attempting to evade the flaming fury of the WP now tormenting their own arms and backs. Running wildly down the slight incline, no perfect head or or heart shot could be expected. Yet Eric's 'miniature artillery' rounds halted the tide, as two of the NVA went down hard and fast, their chests and backs erupting with red spew, leaving a sizeable cavity where none had been before.
"Eric rapidly ejected his brass and chambereda fifth round. By now G.B. was scoped in on the action, taking out the last NVA as he fell forward, drilling a round precisely through the crow of his head. He kicked in a spasmodic, neurological revolt.
"As Eric reloaded, he wheeled 20 degrees left and squeezed off another round into the back of yet another NVA who was trying desperately to roll off the hill. He jerked, then slid a few feet downards, leaving a short bloody trail in the sands of Con Thien - 'The Hill of Angels.'"
Other exploits of MSG England include using a black lab to flush out snipers from their spider holes, training other marines to become snipers, and special missions. While England's bag is not mentioned, per the Chandler Brothers (Death From Afar, Vol II, pg 72) he is not far behind Hathcock.
You can order the book for
[TFL note: 04/11/2011: Dr. Turner informs us this book is no longer in print. rjl]
Joseph Blair Turner
Nathan House Publishers
P.O. Box 1696
Oakwood, GA 30566
------------------
Vigilantibus et non dormientibus jura subveniunt