Inside the secret war in Iraq
It’s a practised stare, cold, hard and unblinking, that the sniper levels at the cluster of abandoned homes. His target is not far off: 200 m or so across rolling green fields in territory belonging to the self-styled Islamic State. For hours on end the sniper lies still on a foam mat, training his sight […]Adnan R. Khan writes for Maclean’s:
It’s a practised stare, cold, hard and unblinking, that the sniper levels at the cluster of abandoned homes. His target is not far off: 200 m or so across rolling green fields in territory belonging to the self-styled Islamic State. For hours on end the sniper lies still on a foam mat, training his sight for any sign of movement: a reflection from binocular glass, a scurry or a shift, anything that will provide him with a reason to fire.
On the other side, his counterpart has been pestering the small contingent of Kurdish fighters for days. He has been less demanding of his targets, firing off rounds seemingly at random. The bullets whistle over the top of the sandbagged berm protecting the Kurds from Islamic State. They have become so commonplace that the Kurdish fighters—a group of three are sitting on a broken old couch drinking tea, others cleaning weapons—barely take notice.
“He’s out there somewhere,” Col. Abdularrahman Hassan, the commander of this outpost whispers. “We’ve been trying to take him out but he’s a slippery one. He fires a shot and then quickly finds a new position. But we’ll get him sooner or later.”
The Kurdish sniper fires off a round, then another. Hassan looks over. “Missed,” the sniper says, sitting up and leaning against a dirt wall. A brown balaclava covers his face but his eyes betray his frustration. Patience was one of the key things he learned from his Canadian trainers, he had explained earlier, the ability to focus on his breath and stay relaxed. But clearly he’s reaching his limit.
