She was a bad woman. Normally kill squads would just kill a Marineand take his shoes or whatever, but the Apache was very sadistic. She would do anything to cause pain.
— Carlos Hathcock on Apache
Apache was a female Viet Cong sniper and interrogator, she earned her nickname through her methods of torturing US Marines and South Vietnamese troops and letting them bleed to death. She led a platoon of snipers and earned a reputation for torturing prisoners of war in earshot of US bases and cutting off her victim's eyelids and kept them as trophies, as well as castrating them.
Because of her brutal tactics and infamy, she quickly became a high profile target. She was killed in 1966 by Carlos Hathcock, who was part of a sniper team of the United States Marine Corps. His partner Captain Edward James Land manned the spotting scope while Hathcock hit her with both of the rounds that he fired. Her death was a major moral victory for the US troops.
Battle vs. Ann Matsura (by SPARTAN 119)
Alternate universe (obviously, given the events to follow), Vietnam, 1966
US Marine sniper Carlos Hathcock took aim the Viet Cong sniper known as Apache, who he had been stalking for weeks now. Hathcock pulled the trigger, his Winchester Model 70 rifle giving off a loud report.
Apache's face was covered with a bright light, but it was not a muzzle flash. Apache felt her feet leave the ground, she was flying through a tunnel of light.
"Have I been shot? Am I dead... Is this what dying feels like?", Apache thought to herself as the flew towards a blurry image at the end of the tunnel, which appeared to be a of a large city at night. Apache flew through the end of the tunnel and found landed on her stomach on a hard surface.
Paris, France, June 16, 2024
"If I can still feel pain, I must not be dead...", Apache got up and noticed several people gathered around her, all of them Caucasians, speaking French. As Apache looked past them, she saw a street full of cars. Apache hadn't seen many cars in Vietnam, and they were all old and beat up. These vehicles, though, were new, and looked unlike anything Apache had seen before, almost futuristic.
Beyond that, however, was the thing that surprised Apache the most: "The Eiffel Tower?", Apache said- like many Vietnamese, she could speak French, Vietnam being a former French colony, "I'm in Paris? How did I get here?"
"You appeared here in a flash of light", A Frenchman said, "Anyway, who are you..?"
Apache gave her real name, then said "I am a from Vietnam".
"What about the rifle?", the man asked.
"Enough questions!", Apache said, annoyed, pushing through the crowd. Immediately past the crowd, she saw something in a nearby cafe that made her freeze in her place. A man sat at an outdoor table with an Ipad. The device was unlike anything Apache had seen before, but that wasn't what grabbed her attention. Rather, it was the date displayed in the corner of the device: "June 16th, 2024? How could this be.. Either this is dream or... That light sent me forward in time..."
Two years later, 2026
Crystel "Chris" Ario was quite pleased with the newest member of her unit, a Vietnamese woman who was an expert sniper. Sure, she was more than a bit eccentric. She claimed to be a Vietnam War-era sniper known as "Apache" by the Americans, who had been sent forward in time by some sort of mysterious accident. As such "Apache" favored an old Mosin-Nagant over more modern rifles. It had been difficult getting her out of spending the rest of her life in a mental institution after she walked through the streets of Paris with her rifle two years ago.
Apache was initially overcome by culture shock when the arrived in the 2020s, and was now living with a woman named Crystel Ario, who took her in after she met her in the streets, and was intrigued by her claim that she was a Vietnamese sniper.
Crystel, or Chris as she preferred, was a mercenary working for a company called "Trident", and she was a self-proclaimed "admirer" of Apache's work, being fascinated by her stories of the war, asking her questions down the the most grisly details, and was particularly impressed when she showed her a plain metal necklace, with numerous pieces of dried skin- human eyelids- affixed to it. Apache, meanwhile, was pleased to hear that the Americans had pulled out of Vietnam in 1973, and the country had been united under the communist north.
About a six months into her new life in the 21st century, Chris offered her a job with Trident. While externally, Apache was a communist, and disapproved of such a capitalist notion, by this point, she had started to miss the thrill of the hunt, and though she never admitted this to Chris, the euphoria of holding the power to bring suffering and death.
Because of this, Apache accepted the job, though she never told anyone other than Chris about her past. Within the next six months, Apache has pass Trident training, and was now a fully fledged operative. Over the next year, she proved her worth in Africa, eliminating several key figures in a militia.
Apache was rather unimpressed with her next contract, however, an industrial espionage mission in Japan, to steal a part of an experimental weapons system from the JSDF. It sounded to Apache like an easy mission....
Forest surrounding the abandoned building, Fuji Training Grounds, Japan, 1:30 AM, June 23rd, 2026
"Ann-chan", Touko Natori said, tapping a sleeping Ann Matsura on the shoulder, "It's your turn to stand watch."
Ann yawned and got up, picking her Walther WA-2000 sniper rifle and walking off the edge of the EPDA camp, getting into position in a clump of dense bushes. Ever since the students of Eastern Private Defense Academy had been forced out the abandoned building when the Trident mercs set fire to the place, Ann had taped branches and leaves to her uniform, a crude ghillie suit, to camouflage herself in the woods.
The night air was cool and quiet, the only sound was that of the cicadas chirping into the night and the rippling of the trees in the wind. It was hard to believe that they were currently fighting to prevent a foreign PMC from stealing an experimental weapon.
Ann and the rest of the students of Eastern Private Defense Academy, however, were suddenly made painfully aware of the reality of their situation when a gunshot rang out in the still night air.
Less than two hundred meters away
Apache sat in a Y-shaped intersection of two tree branches about two hundred meters away, cursing in Vietnamese under her breath as the round went wide, missing the head of her target and going into nearby tree. The rest of the students of Eastern Private Defense Academy ran for cover, hiding behind trees or boulders.
Meanwhile, back with Ann Matsura
Ann immediately went on high alert when she heard the gunshot. She had heard it, but she had not seen the muzzle flash. She needed the sniper to take a second shot, but she shuddered to think at what that could mean.
Whether she really wanted it or not, the sniper fired again. This time, Ann saw the muzzle flash come from a tree about 150 meters away. This time the there was a shout of pain in Touko Natori's voice.
"Natori-san, are you OK?", Kazuki Kurobe said from behind a rock.
"I'm fine", Touko said, "It only grazed me".
As Touko and Kazuki spoke, Ann took aim at the tree. She could tell where the muzzle flash had come from, but she could not clearly see the sniper. Ann exhaled and slowly applied pressure to the trigger, firing a shot the the tree. She then fired more rounds at the tree.
After the third shot, Ann saw a dark figure run out of the tree and start running. Ann led her target and fired two more times, but the hastily aimed shots both missed. Ann ran out of cover, ducking as she relocated to another bush about twenty meters away. She stayed there for almost an hour, until she was sure that the sniper had indeed retreated.
"I think the sniper's gone", Ann said, "Don't think I got them, but I definitely spooked them.
12:24 PM, June 23rd, 2026
Ann Matsura duct taped two sticks together, one larger, about five feet long, and one smaller, only about a couple feet in length, into a cross-shaped pattern. As she did so, Youji Takatsu walked up to her.
"Hey, Ann, what are you doing with those sticks?", Youji asked.
"Making a bait for that sniper from last night", Ann said as she took one of the ponchos that were standard issue for the students of EPDA and draped it over the stick cross, before perching a helmet over the top of the crossed stick to finish of the dummy target.
"It's a trick used by snipers since at least the Second World War", Ann said, "Create a fake target, and, and when the enemy fires at it, they will reveal their position with the muzzle flash, allowing you to take the shot."
"You really think that will work?", Youji asked, "I mean, it's pretty obvious that's not a person".
"That may be true from standing right next to it in the day light, but at night from a couple hundred meters away, even with a scope, it will look like an actual target."
2:23 AM, June 24th, 2026
"Apache" crept through the woods surrounding the Fuji training grounds, to the location where the the teenagers that had caused Trident so much trouble lay hidden. Kneeling behind a bush, Apache placed her crosshairs over a helmet poking out over a bush about 100 meters away. There was no wind, this would be an easy shot. Apache squeezed trigger, sending a 7.62mm round through the helmet, knocking it several feet away.
As Apache turned the bolt on her Mosin-Nagant rifle, she heard the report of a rifle, and felt a sharp pain in her shoulder. A bullet had shot through her her arm, not hitting the bone, but the wound was still bleeding profusely. Apache would have to retreat yet again without claiming a kill.
11:34 PM, June 24th, 2026
Ann Matsura stood in a tree, placing her decoy into a new location. She was sure she had hid the sniper this time, but she doubted whether the sniper would fall for the same trap again.
In order to stay one step ahead of the game, she and Youji had come up with a new plan.
"Youji", Ann called down to Youji Takatsu, who was standing below her, "Hand me that my pistol".
"Here", Youji replied, handing Ann the USP .45 handgun. The weapon had a string carefully looped around the trigger, leading down in a large loop from the tree to a bush Ann was using as a sniping position. The mechanism was complicated, but the idea was simple: give her fake sniper a fake muzzle flash.
"All right", Ann said, pulling back the slide of the empty handgun, "We're ready for the test run"
Youji walked over to the end of the string, grabbed it, and pulled. The pistol let out the click of an empty chamber.
"All right", Ann said, "It worked, hand me up the magazine".
Youji handed Ann a loaded magazine, and after loading the weapon, Ann climbed down from the tree, her trap in position.
11:45 PM, June 24th, 2026
Apache was not in a good mood. The wound in her arm was properly bandaged now, and did not cause her any trouble aiming. However, she, the woman who terrorized battle-hardened US Marines, had been foiled two nights in a row by a bunch of kids.
If she couldn't drive them out of their hole with sniper fire, Apache thought, perhaps she could do so through other means....
11:50 PM: 5 minutes later
Youji Takatsu walked out alone about 20 meters into the woods to take use what passed for a "bathroom" in the EPDA camp- a bush that obscured him from the rest of the camp.
Youji about a minute later, Youji zipped up his fly, having finished watering the local plant life. At that moment, however, he could have sworn he heard sensed someone behind him. Practically the second after this occurred to him, he felt a rag soaked with some sort of chemical pressed against his face. Youji passed out instantly.
12:00 AM, June 25th, 2026
"Hey", Touko said, "Has anyone seen Takatsu-kun?"
"Haven't seen him", Nanami Karino replied.
"Me neither", responded Taro Tsurumi.
"Last I saw of him he was going to the "bathroom", Kazuki Kurobe said, "But I haven't seen him since."
The question of Youji's whereabouts was answered immediately in a most unpleasant manner.
A female voice spoke in broken Japanese out from somewhere in the darkness through what sounded like a megaphone or a loudspeaker.
"Attention students of Eastern Private Defense Academy. This is the Trident sniper that you have been engaged with these past few days. I have one of your friends as my "guest". You have one hour to surrender, or your friend....", the speaker said before he cut off to a scream, clearly in Youji's voice."
Touko was torn between what to do, they could surrender, and risk the national security of Japan, or they could abandon Youji to an enemy who sounded like they were planning to torture him to death. Neither sounded like good options.
Ann saw Touko's look of indecision, and, against everything she had been told in her military education, she acted on her own, without speaking with others. Ann pulled the string looped around the trigger of the USP .45 in the tree next to her dummy.
The pistol fired the report filling the still night air.
Meanwhile a few hundred meters away
"Where's your sniper located?", "Apache" said to Youji in what little Japanese she had learned for the mission.
"I'm not saying shit!", Youji said defiantly.
Apache grabbed a her combat knife, which she had already used to lightly cut Youji's side- a to his comrades warning of what was to come, and pointed it menacingly between his legs.
"Next time I'll cut them off", Apache said.
Thankfully, Apache's plans for his reproductive organs were foiled by a gunshot that rang out in the night, and a muzzle flash in a tree.
"I'm still going to cut them off, and your eyelids too", Apache said, "But first, your going to watch me kill one of your friends."
At that, Apache picked up her Mosin-Nagant and took aim at tree where the muzzle flash came from. She fired off a single shot. The round hit the helmet of the target, causing a dark figure to fall out of the tree.
Apache then turned to Youji, but he was not wearing a look of sorrow or fear, but a look a satisfied smirk, as though he were victorious.
"What's so funny?!", Apache yelled at him, brandishing her knife.
A suddenly, a loud loud crack rang out, as a flash in the darkness lit up the night. The bullet went into Apache's back, causing the front of her chest to explode outwards, before she fell to the ground in a pool of blood.
Youji heard a rustling in forest, and seconds later, heard Ann Matsura's voice.
"Youji!", Ann said, "Are you OK?"
"I'm fine", Youji said, as Ann set about untying him whose arms were bound to a tree, "It hurts but it isn't very deep".
As soon as Youji was loose, Ann threw her arms around him in a tight embrace.
"I was so worried about you", she said tearfully, as she hugged him tighter. They did not break apart until Touko Natori, who Youji had just noticed was there, along with Kazuki Kurobe, Hikari Senami, and Taro Tsurumi.
"Ann", Touko said, "What you did was reckless, dangerous, and would have got you court martialed if we were actually in the military... but it saved the life of one of our comrades, and I am grateful for that".
Suddenly a female voice shouted a several words in Vietnamese. Apache was still alive, and with her last breath, she had reached for the Tokarev pistol at her side and took aim at Ann and Touko, both of whose backs were turned.
However, instead of a gunshot, the only sound heard was a scream of pain and the sound of a knife entering flesh.
"You tried to torture me!", Youji said furiously, thrusting Apache's own knife into its owner again, "You tried to kill my friends!"
After stabbing Apache three times, Youji breathed heavily, panting over his vanquished torturer.
Ann reached out and grabbed Youji's hand, in spite of the blood that now stained it, helping him up.
"I guess..." Youji said through heavy breaths, "We're even..."
"I guess we are", Ann said, as they started to walk back to their camp, his hand still in hers.
The Next Day
Ann and Youji woke up early that morning to the sound heavy footsteps that morning.
"JSDF!", A male voice yelled.
All of the Eastern Private Defense Academy students stood with their hands raised in the air around the camp, surrounded by several JSDF soldiers.
"I suppose your here to take us", Touko said.
"Command has cleared any confusion, the warrants for your arrest have been voided, and there will be no criminal charges pressed. The French PMCs responsible for the incident have been apprehended.", The squad leader said, as he picked up the box the EPDA students had been working so hard to protect.
Touko looked relieved that she they were no longer wanted by the police or the SDF.
"You will be debriefed once we get you back to base. Afterwards, you will be allowed to return to your families. From what I heard, you may even be eligible for medals", and SDF soldier said.
"Meaning no disrespect, sir", Youji said, "But what I'd like most about now are a hot meal and a shower".
The entire group of EPDA students murmured and nodded in agreement as they left the woods.
WINNER: Ann Matsura
The Expert's believed that, while Apache was brutal and highly experienced combatant, Ann's larger magnification scope with a ballistic reticle, as well as her knowledge of the area won her this battle.To see the original battle, weapons, and votes, click here.
Battles here were deemed to be unfair or otherwise not in accordance with wiki standards, and have been removed from the statuses of the warriors and displayed below.
Battle vs. Sniper Wolf (by Lucasliso)
Somewhere deep in the Vietnam Jungle, in an underground hideout of the Viet Cong.
Lieutenant Junior Grade John Smith was being dragged trough the ground, his arms and legs were useless as he had taken shots from a sniper on each one. He would have rather have received one on the head, because he knew that the only reason the Viet Cong would keep someone alive was to interrogate them.
He was strapped on a table, his arms and legs tied, and his shirt ripped off. Then all the Viet Cong soldiers left the room and he was alone with just one person, a woman with a Mosin-Nagant strapped on her back. He knew who she was, even if he had never seen her before. She was the one that killed his platoon in the jungle, leaving only him alive. She was the one that everyone was on the lookout for, the killer shadow among the jungle. Nobody knew her true name, so they called her…
“Apache.” Whispered Lt. Junior Grade Smith.
“You tell me what I want know.” she said in a broken English with a thick Vietnamese accent. She took out a knife, and stabbed him on one of the wounds of his arms, moving the bullet still lodged in there around. He screamed in incredible pain.
“Spies heard you getting new sniper, sent kill me.” She stirred the knife more, “What you know of this.”
“I… I don’t know what you are talking about… I just… WAAARGH!” he screamed again as “Apache” twisted the knife and pulled, taking out the bullet from his injury, but opening it more and more, in a way that it would never completely heal. She then moved to the other arm, and stabbed his other gunshot wound.
“You say what me want know… NOW!” repeated the female Viet Cong sniper.
“I… I don’t know much… ARGH! Nobody does… its all a secret operation…” replied Smith, “All I know is that she was trained by ‘Big Boss’, she’s a member of the Fox Hound special operations forces.”
She again twisted the knife, extracting the bullet but opening the wound even more so it would never fully heal. “Name… give me NAME!” demanded Apache.
“ARGH! Nobody knows the names of Fox Hound members… she’s just known as Sniper Wolf! That’s all I know, I swear, for the love of God I swear that’s all I know!” said Smith.
Apache then moved over to one of the doorways and called out for someone in Vietnamese. Two Viet Cong soldiers came in, united John Smith from the table and dragged him again, trough the tunnels. “Where are you taking me?” he asked.
Apache didn’t even turn to look at him as she cleaned her knife. “Hanoi” she replied.
Lt. Junior Grade Smith knew that he had just earned himself a long stay at the Hanoi Hilton, yes it would have been better if they had killed him. This people were savages! Americans would never capture enemy combatants and put them in a jail and torture them (little did he know about future events in Guantanamo bay.)
Apache then placed her knife away, grabbed more ammunition for her Mosin-Nagant rifle, checked the sniper scope on it, and walked away trough one of the exit tunnels. So the Americans were sending a special sniper just for her? No matter, she would take her out and show them not to mess with the Viet Cong… for Ho Chi Minh, for Vo Nguyen Giap, for their independence, for one eternal Vietnam!
A US Army encampment somewhere in South Vietnam.
Soldiers were walking around, the encampment, except for Captain James Johnson, waiting for the Huey helicopter to land on the improvised Helipad of the encampment. Hopefully, the person that the Huey was carrying would finally enable them to get rid of that damn Viet Cong sniper!
The Huey finally landed and the engine shut down, as the blades stopped spinning, the door of the helicopter opened and out came a woman with long greenish hair, wearing a skin tight green military garb that left little to the imagination. She had no rank insignia or anything else to identity her, just a shoulder patch of a fox on her right arm with the word FOXHOUD stitched on it, and a Heckler & Koch PSG-1 rifle strapped to her back. She carried herself with a confident and regal attitude, as if nothing intimidated her.
Captain Johnson wasn’t very impressed, he knew that they were going to send the best sniper of FOXHOUND, but she didn’t look the part. “I heard that you were a good sniper. Isn’t your spotter with you? Or do you need one assigned from us?” he asked.
“I don’t need a spotter, I work alone.” replied the woman.
The Captain raised an eyebrow, “I’m Captain James Johnson, I’m in charge here. What do I call you.”
“You call me Sniper Wolf, you don’t need to know anymore.” replied Sniper Wolf.
Sniper Wolf shook her head, to move her head away from her face, and pulled down the zipper on her jacket, exposing some cleavage “It sure is hot in this place” she said as she did so.
This caused for there to be some cat calls from some of the men around the camp, many were shirtless since the heat.
Sniper Wolf smiled and walked to the closest one to where she was. She smiled at him, placed her hand on his cheek… and the scratched him. The soldier turned his head and when he looked up Sniper Wolf was aiming her PSG-1 at him, just inches from his face. “Let this be a warning for you… for all of you. Never disrespect a lady.”
Sniper Wolf again strapped her PSG-1 over her shoulder and walked back to where Captain Johnson was standing. “Lets make this clear, I’m a member of FOXHOUND, I work alone, I take no orders from you or anyone here. I will take down that ‘Apache’ sniper you all are so afraid of, and then I will leave. Now show me to your tent, I need to see some maps and familiarize myself with the area.”
Captain Johnson and Sniper Wolf walked towards his tent, “Why are you doing this? Why are you here?” he asked.
Sniper Wolf smiled, “Because if half of what I’ve been told about this ‘Apache’, then she would be the best target I could ever hope for.” she said, licking her full lips.
The Next day, inside the jungle in North Vietnam.
Sniper Wolf was quietly moving through the jungle, alone, her PSG-1 rifle strapped on her shoulder. She was wearing her green suit, so as to blend better with the jungle around her. According to the maps she memorized inside Captain Johnson’s tent, this was the area where “Apache” usually operated, or at least it was the place where most soldiers were found dead with a single bullet through their heads. The bullets of same caliber used by a Mosin-Nagant rifle.
Finding a suitable tree, with thick foliage, Sniper Wolf climbed it, not making an noise as she grabbed each branch. Finally, when she reached a branch thick enough to support her weight, and with enough leaves on it to conceal her, she laid down on her stomach, placed her eye on the rifle’s scope, and her finger on the trigger, and started to wait.
Several hours later, Sniper Wolf heard something moving through the jungle. She moved her scope to see. It was a group of US soldiers, cutting their way through the plants with Machetes, making a whole mess. The idiots, they all looked around, holding their rifles like if they would make a difference. They were nothing but moving targets, if Big Boss were here…
Sniper Wolf’s thoughts were interrupted when she heard the sound of a rifle shot, and the leader of the small group of soldiers falling to the ground, a bullet in his head. She was here! Apache was here!
“Where are you…” Sniper Wolf whispered to herself, as she looked around the area where the bullet must have come from, seeing only the jungle. “Where are you…” she repeated, as she took a Diazepam pill and swallowed it.
Another shot, and another US soldier was down. The remaining soldiers looked around, and started running, none of them knew where the shots were coming from. Soon another was down.
Sniper Wolf had now a pretty good idea of where this “Apache” was. But she could not see anything but plants, grass and trees. Not even a reflection on the sniper’s scope, but that wasn’t surprising, the sun could barely make it through the thick jungle foliage.
Then she saw it, something that was out of place. A small discarded rifle shell, it was lying right in front of some thick bushes. Sniper Wolf aimed at the center of the bush right in front of the discarded rifle shell, and pulled the trigger on her PSG-1. The sound of the great sniper rifle echoing through the jungle.
Apache heard the shot and a second later she heard the bullet fall just inches away from her, in the bush right next to her, but she didn’t move a single muscle. A counter sniper! But she hadn’t seen anyone… could it be this elite sniper the Americans had brought in to kill her? Yes, it must be her.
Judging from the angle of the bullet, the shot must have come from one of the trees. Moving very slowly, taking her time, Apache scanned each and every branch of each and every tree that could have been the hiding place of this sniper. Finally, she found her, she was good, hiding behind some thick leaves on a high branch. All she could see was the barrel of her rifle trough the leaves. Apache aimed carefully, and pulled the trigger on her Mosin-Nagant.
Sniper Wolf heard the shot, and heard it as the bullet impaled itself on the branch she was lying on. This “Apache” was good. She had only fired once and she already knew her general location. Sniper Wolf noticed where the shot had come from as well, she was ready to fire when she heard the branch she was on cracking. The bullet and her own weight were breaking it!
“Damn!” said Sniper Wolf as she jumped down of the branch just as it broke down. She heard another shot as a bullet passed just inches away from her head as she fell down. She landed on her feet, and quickly hid behind the tree. She heard another shot hitting the tree trunk at the same moment.
Sniper Wolf stayed hidden behind the tree, holding her rifle, not making a sound. She stayed there for several hours, waiting. When nothing happened, she laid down on the ground, and again looked in the general direction where the shots had come from trough the scope of her PSG-1. She then noticed something. One of the bushes she had seen before were missing!
Being very careful, Sniper Wolf crawled all the way to where the missing bush had been before. She put the PSG-1 down next to her, and looked at the ground. There were some broken leafs there, she picked some of the pieces down and smelled them, they smelled like human sweat. Those broken leafs were the only evidence of a person ever being there. No ration cans, no discarded rifle shells, everything that “Apache” had come with, she had taken.
“You are good, Apache.” whispered Sniper Wolf, “You are now my target, I will enjoy hunting for you. You will be a magnificent opponent.”
The Next day, even deeper in the jungle of North Vietnam.
Sniper Wolf crawled to the jungle on her stomach, the PSG-1 on her arms, making no sounds whatsoever as she moved. She had tracked down Apache into this area from their last encounter. She knew she was here, somewhere, hiding, waiting, being one with the Jungle, like a shadow. From what she saw last time, Sniper Wolf knew that her opponent was using some pretty advanced techniques. She wasn’t just hiding, she was also wearing some sort of Sniper suit, made of plants and branches. It made it almost impossible to spot. Almost.
Sniper Wolf knew she would find her. She just had to be quiet, careful, and most of all, patient. Of that, Sniper Wolf had to spare. She finally found a secure spot behind a rock, surrounded by tall grass. She swallowed another Diazepam pill, and again placed her eye on the scope of her PSG-1, scanning the area, making no sudden movements, making no sound.
Bush by bush, tree by tree, she scanned the area slowly and carefully. Hours passed, but it did not matter to her, as she continued her task. She would find her, she was her target. She always eliminated her targets.
Finally, she saw it. It was hard to make out among the thick plants, but she saw it. It was a bush shaped like a crouching human being. It had a long protuberance at the front, like a rifle’s cannon. Sniper Wolf took aim at where she believed the head of this hidden person was, and pulled the trigger.
The man shaped bush exploded into a hundred leafs and some sticks. A decoy! It was just a dummy!
“Stand up!” heard Sniper Wolf from behind her.
Sniper Wolf did as she was told, as she felt the barrel of the Mosin-Nagant on her back. She turned her head slightly, just to get a peek at the person behind her. It was Apache, only her face and rifle were uncovered now from what could only be described as the best camouflage suit she had ever laid her eyes upon. She recognized the leaves on the suit, she had crawled right next to them on her way to the rock. Sniper Wolf had passed right next to her target, and she never noticed her! She didn’t even hear her breathing.
“Ha ha ha ha ha ha!” Sniper Wolf threw her head back, as she laughed into the empty skies. “You were magnificent, Apache.”
Apache pulled the trigger, at point blank the bullet entered Sniper Wolf from the back, and exited from her front. The Kurdish sniper fell down on the ground of the hot jungle, as her body expired its last breath.
Apach looked down at her dead enemy, “Nước non Việt Nam ta vững bền!” she yelled out in victory.
To see the original battle, weapons, and votes, click here.
ReasonThe battle was disregarded because the author used a sock account to vote on it.
The female Viet Cong sniper and interrogator, known as “Apache,” enjoyed torturing 5th Regiment, 1st Marine Division US Marines and South Vietnamese troops and letting them bleed to death. She was known for cutting off the eyelids and saving them as souvenirs. She was of Vietnamese and French ancestry and grew up in Hanoi.
She operated around Hill 55, in the vicinity of Duc Pho, 8 miles (13 km) from DaNang. She used a 7.62mm Model 44 Russian-made Mosin-Nagant rifle, with a scope. In 1966, legendary sniper, Gunnery Sgt. Carlos Hathcock, II and his spotter, Captain Edward “Jim” Land were sent from DaNang to hunt for Apache. She was notoriously well-known to the Marines around Hill 55. Because of her brutal tactics and infamy, she quickly became a high profile target
One day she had captured a young Marine during an ambush. Within hearing range of the hilltop camp defenders, she tortured him through the night. Hathcock and Land heard horrendous screams and the next morning a Marine private staggered toward camp. He was bleeding profusely, much of his skin had been cut away and his fingernails had been removed. He had been castrated, and his arms were hanging limp, the bones were broken and exposed. Land said, “Carlos ran towards the Marine who collapsed dead, a few feet in front of him.”
It took several days for Carlos and Jim to locate the Viet Cong sniper team. Late one afternoon Land spotted the group with a Vietnamese woman that fit Apache’s description, 700 yards away. He pointed her out to Hathcock. She was a small woman walking towards a ridgeline with her squad of five Viet Cong guerrillas. All of them were armed, and Hathcock noticed that the woman was carrying a rifle with a scope. Carlos did not want to shoot the wrong one so he waited.
When she squatted down to urinate, Land called in an artillery barrage on the group of snipers. The group started running towards Hathcock and Land. At that point Jim told Carlos to take her down. Hathcock put a round in her with his bolt-action Winchester Model 70 30.06 (7.62mm) rifle and she collapsed on the ground. Land told Hathcock to “put another round in her.” Hathcock fired again and her body convulsed. She was 31 years old and that was the end of that “sadistic bitch.” This was a major morale victory. The artillery strike killed the other five snipers.
Read more about Carlos Hathcock in an earlier post from 2016. Here’s the direct link: This Marine Was The ‘American Sniper’ Of The Vietnam War – CherriesWriter – Vietnam War website
A 1993 Youtube interview with Carlos can also be found here: https://youtu.be/vEIWEMiCg8I
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|Died||November 13, 1966(1966-11-13) — aged 31|
|Place of death||Hill 55, Vietnam|
|Years of service||1963–1966|
Apache was a female Viet Congsniper and interrogator known as "Apache", because of her methods of torturing US Marines and ARVN troops and letting them bleed to death.
She was killed in 1966 by Carlos Hathcock, who was part of a sniper team of the United States Marine Corps. His partner, Captain Edward James Land, manned the spotting scope, while Hathcock hit her with both of the rounds that he had fired.
The first-hand account about Apache
In an interview conducted by John Plaster in 1984 and 1985, Hathcock stated that Apache led a platoon of snipers near Hill 55 and had tortured Marines. In interviews with Hathcock and Captain Edward James Land, conducted by Charles Henderson, Apache was a high profile target according to Military Intelligence.
Apache was reportedly known for "torturing prisoners within earshot of U.S. bases", according to C.W.Henderson. The founder of SEAL Team Six, Richard Marcinko, said in 1995 that Hathcock had told him one of Apache's "trademarks" was to cut off her victim's eyelids and keep them as souvenirs. Apache often emasculated her captives, according to Hathcock in another interview.
Hathcock's encounter with "Apache" was the basis for an episode in the documentary series on The History Channel series titled Sniper: Deadliest Missions.
As a fictional character
Apache was the basis for the villain of the same name in H.E. Jasper's detective novel Days in Bien-Hoa.
- ↑Henderson, Charles (2001). Marine Sniper: 93 Confirmed Kills. Penguin. p. 94. ISBN 978-0-425-18165-2.
- ↑Harnden, Toby (24 October 2002). "A sniper's life". Telegraph. http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/worldnews/northamerica/usa/1411077/A-snipers-life.html. Retrieved 17 August 2011.
- ↑Nawrozki, Joe (1992). "Disease finds sniper Viet Cong didn't A soldier's story". Baltimore Sun. http://articles.baltimoresun.com/1992-02-02/news/1992033013_1_sniper-hathcock-vietnam/2. "On Hill 55 near Duc Pho, Marines had been dying at the hands of a female Viet Cong sniper and interrogator nicknamed Apache. One day she had captured a young Marine during an ambush. Within hearing range of the hilltop camp defenders, she tortured him through the night."
- ↑ 4.04.1Roberts, Craig; Charles W. Sasser (2004). Crosshairs on the Kill Zone: American Combat Snipers, Vietnam Through Operation Iraqi Freedom. Simon and Schuster. p. 75. ISBN 978-1-4165-0362-0.
- ↑ 5.05.1"Stalking the Apache".
- ↑Sasser, Charles; Roberts, Craig (1990). One Shot, One Kill (1990 ed.). Pocket Books. p. 202. ISBN 978-0-671-68219-4.
- ↑ 7.07.1Henderson, Charles (2001). Marine Sniper: 93 Confirmed Kills. Penguin. pp. 131–132. ISBN 978-0-425-18165-2.
- ↑Earley, Pete (Jan 18, 1987). "THE SNIPER; With the encouragement of the Marine Corps, Carlos Norman Hathcock II killed 93 Vietnamese. He managed to live through it. Now he has to live with it". Washington, D.C.: The Washington Post. p. 17. http://pqasb.pqarchiver.com/washingtonpost/access/73790019.html?dids=73790019:73790019&FMT=ABS&FMTS=ABS:FT&type=current&date=Jan+18%2C+1987&author=Pete+Earley&pub=The+Washington+Post+(pre-1997+Fulltext)&desc=THE+SNIPER%3B+With+the+encouragement+of+the+Marine+Corps%2C+Carlos+Norman+Hathcock+II+killed+93+Vietnamese.+He+managed+to+live+through+it.+Now+he+has+to+live+with+it&pqatl=google. Retrieved 12 January 2012.
- ↑"Marine Sniper Carlos Hathcock: In His Own Words & Bonus Program 'Advanced Snipercraft". Virginia: Loti Group. September 26, 1994.
- ↑Henderson, Charles W. (2003). Silent Warrior (2003 ed.). Berkley Books. p. 67. ISBN 978-0-425-18864-4.
- ↑Marcinko, Richard; John Weisman (1995). Rogue warrior:Green Team. Pocket Books. p. 280. ISBN 978-0-671-89671-3. "Cutting off her victim's eyelids was her trademark."
- ↑Jasper, H.E. (2010). Days in Bien-hoa. PublishAmerica. ISBN 978-1-4560-5970-5.
Profile of an Apache Woman
Apache Wife and More
If the Apache man defined the image of the warrior, raider and master tracker in the mystique of our western deserts, the Apache woman gave heart and sinew to her people under the punishing trials of a nomadic life.
The woman saw her worth recognized in the most fundamental traditions of the tribe. "At marriage a man goes to the camp of the girl’s parents to live," said one of Morris E. Opler’s Chiricahua Apache informants in his book An Apache Life-Way: The Economic, Social, & Religious Institutions of the Chiricahua Indians. "We do this because a woman is more valuable than a man. We do it to accommodate the woman. The son-in-law is considered a son and as one of the family. The in-laws depend a great deal on him. They depend on him for hunting and all kinds of work. He is almost a slave to them."
An Apache girl, modest and chaste, knew her value would be ratified at her puberty ceremony, four days of song, dance, feasting and ritual, when her family and band ushered her into womanhood. She knew the traditional event – founded by White Painted Woman, one of the most important Apache deities – would assure her a long, healthy and happy life, provided it unfolded strictly in accordance with custom. The Apache girl and her parents anticipated her puberty ceremony as anxiously as a modern debutante and her parents look forward to her coming-out ball.
Among the Chiricahua Apaches, the family members began preparations for the celebration months ahead of time. They solicited key figures to carry out ceremonies, notified the list of guests, laid up food for the feast, gathered presents, especially horses, for the performers, and cut timbers for ceremonial structures. Her mother, or perhaps her grandmother or an aunt, made her a new dress, not of lace and ribbon, but of buckskin, died yellow, elaborately and symbolically decorated.
As the day of celebration drew near, the young woman would turn to a trusted aging woman for counsel and guidance about the upcoming ceremony and her future life. She would rely on a designated "singer," a combined shaman and priest, to supervise the erection of her teepee-like ceremonial structure and to chant the songs for her rituals. She would count on masked dancers, symbolic mountain spirits who wore headdresses mounted above buckskin hoods, to bless the ceremony, drive away evil and entertain the guests.
"…when all was ready," said one of Opler’s informants, the young woman’s family "let many know, and they came from far places. All were invited." The young woman had her face marked with pollen, the symbol of life and procreation, by her counselor and guide. "The celebration was held for four days. The people had a good time at the dancing. First came the masked dancers. The [White Painted Woman and Child of the Water deities] gave the people the round dance to enjoy, but this was not to begin until after the performance of the masked dancers was over. After that came the partner dances."
"All the Indians enjoy the feast—poor and rich, the able-bodied and the lame and blind," said another Opler informant. "This feast has been handed down for many, many years…..All the singing is supposed to work out the future life for the girl in order…that she have long life. The songs bring good luck. The ceremony works good luck for everyone that takes part in it and good luck for the old people during the time of the ceremony, also good luck for the spectators. They sing and pray for all."
The Apache girl’s puberty ceremony signaled, not only the end of her childhood, but her availability for marriage. "A full oval face is liked and medium height, not too tall," according to an Opler informant. "We like small hands and feet, but not too thin. A plump, full body is best. Legs should be in proportion to the rest of the body and not too thin. Mouth and ears should be in proportion to the rest of the face, not big."
After her puberty ceremony, the young Apache woman, valued more for her economic and practical worth than for her beauty, often faced a marriage negotiated by her family, many times without her agreement, sometimes without even her knowledge. Mindful that the man would join the young woman’s family – an arrangement called "matrilocal" by anthropologists – her parents drafted a marriage based, not on romantic love, but on material need. They sought out a proven and, frequently, older man, preferably one with tribal respect, wealth and connections, who would underwrite the future of the young woman, contribute horses to her father, marshal arms for the family’s protection, and contribute game to the family larder. Conversely, the family knew that a potential husband would favor a woman known for industry, a strong body and good humor, characteristics more important to him than a full oval face, small hands and feet, and a plump, full body. Other times, the young woman attracted her own suitors, who might approach the family through intermediaries and offer horses and other gifts for her hand. The young woman’s family agreed to a marriage after a delicate minuet of negotiation. Once the family accepted the prospective groom’s gifts, the couple would simply take up life together, with no formal ceremony. "A day or two after consent is given," according to an Opler informant, "the marriage takes place. As soon as everything is ready they start living together. The girl and her female relatives build the house."
After marriage, in a custom which anthropologists call "avoidance," the woman’s husband could not associate with, nor even look at, her mother, her father nor her grandmothers. Nevertheless, her husband must "bring in" game for the family. The term "means to me," said an Opler informant, "that in the old days a son-in-law would go out and kill game for his parents-in-law. The word implies to me that the man’s business is to hunt in this fashion for me if I am the father-in-law. It is his obligation to do so forever." The son-in-law had to help support the very people he had to avoid.
While her husband hunted game, instructed the sons, raided enemies, made war and pursued personal and tribal glory and prestige, the Apache wife took charge of nurturing the family, instructing the daughters, tending the home and crafting clothing and household goods.
According to James F. Haley in his book Apaches: A History and Culture Portrait, the Apache woman harvested wild food plants, including – according to the season and location – yucca bloom stalks and fruit, prickly pear cactus fruit, cattail (or tule) roots and shoots, raspberries, strawberries, grapes, sumac fruit, one-seed juniper berries, pinyon pine cone nuts, walnuts, acorns, screw beans, mesquite beans, sunflower seeds and many other wild plant foods.
In late spring, she joined with other women to harvest the hearts of agave plants, the Apaches’ most important wild food plant. She had to dig up the hearts – each roughly two to three times the size of a fist – and cut away the spiny leaf tips. She participated in digging a communal roasting pit, perhaps 15 feet in diameter and three to four feet in depth. (I have seen Apache agave roasting pits which were significantly larger in the desert basin just west of the Guadalupe Mountains in western Texas.) According to Haley, the women filled the pit with firewood, which they topped with flat stones. After a ceremony and prayer, they lit the firewood, which they allowed to burn down to coals. They covered the coals and heated flat stones with a layer of damp grass, then the agave hearts, then another layer of damp grass. They capped the pit with soil, then built another fire on top of the earthen cap. They roasted the agave hearts for a day or more, until the plants had cooked fully. After they uncovered the roasted agave hearts, they carried them on their backs, in burden baskets, back to their encampment where they preserved them by drying them in the sun.
The Apache woman worked unendingly to provide food for her family, but she also helped build shelters (brush and hide structures called "wickiups"), gathered firewood, processed and tanned hides, cut and sewed leather clothing and bags, carved gourd water containers and utensils, wove basketry and crafted pottery and caulk-lined wicker water jugs. Somehow she also found time to have modest cosmetic designs tattooed on her cheeks and forehead. She made necklaces and pendants of trade beads and mirrors. She took elaborate care of her hair, shampooing it with the lather from soap tree yucca roots, parting it down the middle, allowing it to fall freely across her shoulders and down her back. Meanwhile, she taught her daughters the disciplines and arts of the life of an Apache woman.
The Apache Woman Warrior
Apache women often accompanied parties of warriors on raids, responded to the call to arms, counseled with the men in battle strategy, met with enemies in peace negotiations and served as shamans in spiritual quests. They acted with stunning courage and ferocity.
Sometime in the second half of the 19th century, a Mescalero Apache woman called Gouyen, or Wise Woman, tracked down a Comanche chief who had murdered and scalped her husband. She found her prey celebrating his conquest in a victory dance around a nighttime campfire with his band. Somehow Gouyen stole right into the heart of the camp, into the middle of the celebration. She lured the chief, staggeringly drunk, into the night. She pounced on him like a mountain lion, ripping out his throat with her teeth. She then stabbed him and scalped him with his own knife. She stole his headband, breechclout and moccasins. She escaped on the chief’s black stallion, returning to her people, numb with exhaustion, but triumphant.
Gouyen, said her chief, "is a brave and good woman. She has done a braver thing than has any man among the Mescaleros. She has killed the Comanche chief; and she has brought his weapons and garments to her people. She has ridden his mount. Let her always be honored by my people." (See Eve Ball’s An Apache Odyssey: Indeh, where she recorded Gouyen’s story, kept alive in the tribe’s oral history by May Peso Second, a Mescalero chief’s daughter.) Gouyen’s coup held extraordinary importance because it gave a measure of revenge against the Comanches, who had driven the Mescaleros and other Apache groups from the Great Plains during the 17th and 18th centuries.
Later, Gouyen fought in a skirmish against a party of miners who had encamped near Cooke’s Peak, in southwestern New Mexico. "There was a shot and Suldeen [an Apache warrior] fell from his horse," James Kaywaykla, Gouyen’s son, told Eve Ball in an interview for her book In the Days of Victorio: Recollections of a Warm Springs Apache. "Kaytennae [Gouyen’s second husband and Kaywaykla’s step-father] leaped to the ground and dropped into an arroyo. Mother followed, with me behind her. Before we could overtake Kaytennae, she had her rifle in readiness. We heard two shots and knew that [Kaytennae] had accounted for two [miners]. As we passed the mouth of a side arroyo I saw the shadow of a rifle move. ‘Indah!’ [‘White Man!’] I shouted. Kaytennae was racing toward us, but it was Mother who got the first shot. There was no need for another."
Kaywaykla said, "…my mother’s place was at [Kaytennae’s] side. She prepared food, dressed wounds, and when necessary fought beside him as bravely as any man."
A Warm Springs Apache woman, Jacali, suffered a gunshot wound to the knee in a fight with the Mexican cavalry in northwestern Chihuahua. Her brother, Delzhinne, sequestered her in dense brush beside a stream, according to Eve Ball’s Apache informant Asa Daklugie (see An Apache Odyssey: Indeh). He covered her with a blanket, leaving her with food, water and a knife. "If I live, I’ll come back for you. I do not think they will find you, but if they do, you have a knife," he said.
"They will not take me alive," said Jacali.
Delzhinne eluded the Mexican troops, and when darkness fell, he and his brother, Daklegon, returned to Jacali’s hiding place to rescue their sister. The two warriors made a litter from their lances and Jacali’s blanket, and they transported her through the darkness over rough country to an encampment, where she could rest and receive care. "Jacali had lost much blood and was very weak," said Daklugie, "but not once did she complain or make a sound. She was a true Apache."
Lozen, another Warm Springs Apache woman and the sister of the renowned chief Victorio, became legendary both as a warrior and as a shaman. She had what the Apaches called "Power," supernatural abilities on the battlefield and in spiritual communication. According to Peter Aleshire (Woman Warrior: The Story of Lozen, Apache Warrior and Shaman), Lozen fought in more campaigns against the Mexicans and the Americans than any of the great Apache leaders such as Cochise, Mangas Coloradas, Juh, Chihuahua, Geronimo or her own brother, Victorio. "Lozen began fighting Mexican soldiers and scalp hunters, eternal enemies of her band, when she came of age in the 1840’s," said Aleshire. "After the Americans arrived in 1848 to lay claim to her homeland, she battled them as well."
Lozen fought beside Victorio when he and his followers rampaged against Americans, who had appropriated their homeland in west central New Mexico’s Black Mountains and had tried to confine her people, first, to Arizona’s San Carlos Reservation then to New Mexico’s Mescalero Apache Reservation.
As the band fled U. S. forces, Lozen inspired women and children, frozen in fear, to cross a surging Rio Grande. "I saw a magnificent woman on a beautiful horse—Lozen, sister of Victorio. Lozen the woman warrior!" said James Kaywaykla, a child at the time, riding behind his grandmother. "High above her head she held her rifle. There was a glitter as her right foot lifted and struck the shoulder of her horse. He reared, then plunged into the torrent. She turned his head upstream, and he began swimming." Immediately, the other women and the children followed her into the torrent. When they reached the far bank of the river, cold and wet, but alive, Lozen came to Kaywaykla’s grandmother. "You take charge, now," she said. "I must return to the warriors," who stood between their women and children and the onrushing cavalry. Lozen drove her horse back across the wild river and returned to her comrades.
"I depend upon Lozen as I do Nana (the aging patriarch of the band)," said Victorio, according to Kaywaykla. "She could ride, shoot, and fight like a man," said Kaywaykla, "and I think she had more ability in planning military strategy than did Victorio."
Late in Victorio’s campaign, Lozen left the band to escort a new mother and her newborn infant across the Chihuahuan Desert from Mexico to the Mescalero Apache Reservation, away from the hardships of the trail. Equipped with only a rifle, a cartridge belt, a knife and a three-day supply of food, she set out with the mother on a perilous journey through Mexican and U. S. cavalry forces. En route, afraid that a gunshot would betray their presence, she used her knife to kill a longhorn, butchering it for the meat. She stole a Mexican cavalry horse for the new mother, escaping through a volley of gunfire. She stole a vaquero’s horse for herself, disappearing before he could give chase. She stole a soldier’s saddle, rifle, ammunition, blanket and canteen, even his shirt. Finally, she delivered her charges to the reservation.
There, she learned that Mexican and Tarahumara Indian forces under Mexican commander Joaquin Terrazas had ambushed her brother Victorio and his band at Tres Castillos, three stony hills in northeastern Chihuahua. It happened on October 15, 1880. Terrazas, said Stephen H. Lekson in his monogram Nana’s Raid: Apache Warfare in Southern New Mexico, 1881, "surprised the Apaches, and in the boulders of Tres Castillos Victorio’s warriors fought their last fight. Apache tradition holds that Victorio fell on his own knife rather than die at the hands of the Mexicans. Almost all the warriors at Tres Castillos were killed, and many women died fighting; the older people were shot, while almost one hundred young women and children were taken for slaves. Only a few escaped."
Knowing that the survivors would need her, Lozen immediately left the Mescalero Reservation and rode alone southwest across the desert, threading her way undetected through U. S. and Mexican military patrols, and rejoined the decimated band, now led by the 74-year-old patriarch Nana, in the Sierra Madre, in northwestern Chihuahua.
According to Kimberly Moore Buchanan in Apache Women Warriors, Lozen fought beside Nana and his handful of warriors in his two-month long bloody campaign of vengeance across southwestern New Mexico in 1881. Just before he began, Nana had said, "Though she is a woman there is no warrior more worthy than the sister of Victorio."
Lozen also fought beside Geronimo after his breakout from the San Carlos reservation in 1885, in the last campaign of the Apache wars. With the band pursued relentlessly, she used her Power to locate the enemies, the U. S. and Mexican cavalries. According to Alexander B. Adams in his book Geronimo, "She would stand with her arms outstretched, chant a prayer [to Ussen, the Apaches’ supreme deity], and slowly turn around."
Upon this earth
On which we live
Ussen has Power
This Power is mine
For locating the enemy.
I search for that Enemy
Which only Ussen the Great
Can show to me.
From Eve Ball’s In the Days of Victorio
"By the sensation she felt in her arms, she could tell where the enemy was and how many they numbered," according to Adams.
Taken into U. S. military custody after Geronimo’s final surrender, Lozen traveled as a prisoner of war to confinement at the Mount Vernon Barracks in Alabama. Like many other Apache warriors, she died there of tuberculosis sometime after 1887, her life a validation of the respected place women held among the Apaches.
by Jay W. Sharp
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Apache woman the
Apache (Viet Cong soldier)
Apache (1936 – 13 November 1966) is the name of a female Viet Congsniper and interrogator known as "Apache", because of her methods of torturing US Marines and ARVN troops and letting them bleed to death.
She was, according to various reports, killed in 1966 by Carlos Hathcock, who was part of a sniper team of the United States Marine Corps. His partner, Captain Edward James Land, manned the spotting scope, while Hathcock hit her with both of the rounds that he had fired.
The first-hand account about Apache
In an interview conducted by John Plaster in 1984 and 1985, Hathcock stated that Apache led a platoon of snipers near Hill 55 and had tortured Marines. In interviews with Hathcock and Captain Edward James Land, conducted by Charles Henderson, Apache was said to be a high-profile target, according to Military Intelligence.
Apache was reportedly known for "torturing prisoners within earshot of U.S. bases", according to C.W.Henderson. The founder of SEAL Team Six, Richard Marcinko, said in 1995 that Hathcock had told him one of Apache's "trademarks" was to cut off her victim's eyelids and keep them as souvenirs. Apache often emasculated her captives, according to Hathcock in another interview.
As a fictional character
Hathcock's encounter with "Apache" was the basis for an episode in the documentary series on The History Channel series titled Sniper: Deadliest Missions.
- ^Henderson, Charles (2001). Marine Sniper: 93 Confirmed Kills. Penguin. p. 94. ISBN .
- ^Harnden, Toby (24 October 2002). "A sniper's life". Telegraph. Retrieved 17 August 2011.
- ^Nawrozki, Joe (1992). "Disease finds sniper Viet Cong didn't A soldier's story". Baltimore Sun.
- ^ abRoberts, Craig; Charles W. Sasser (2004). Crosshairs on the Kill Zone: American Combat Snipers, Vietnam Through Operation Iraqi Freedom. Simon and Schuster. p. 75. ISBN .
- ^ abEmre Sahin, Kelly McPherson, Leon Farmer, Scott Levy and Chad Mathews (3 June 2011). "Stalking the Apache". Sniper: Deadliest Missions. The History Channel.
- ^Sasser, Charles; Roberts, Craig (1990). One Shot, One Kill (1990 ed.). Pocket Books. p. 202. ISBN .
- ^ abHenderson, Charles (2001). Marine Sniper: 93 Confirmed Kills. Penguin. pp. 131–132. ISBN .
- ^Earley, Pete (Jan 18, 1987). "THE SNIPER; With the encouragement of the Marine Corps, Carlos Norman Hathcock II killed 93 Vietnamese. He managed to live through it. Now he has to live with it". The Washington Post. Washington, D.C. p. 17. Retrieved 12 January 2012.
- ^John Plaster, Carlos Hathcock (September 26, 1994). Marine Sniper Carlos Hathcock: In His Own Words & Bonus Program 'Advanced Snipercraft (VHS). Virginia: Loti Group.
- ^Henderson, Charles W. (2003). Silent Warrior (2003 ed.). Berkley Books. p. 67. ISBN .
- ^Marcinko, Richard; John Weisman (1995). Rogue warrior:Green Team. Pocket Books. p. 280. ISBN .
Carlos Hathcock is known for his skill and patience when it comes to dispatching his opponents from a distance. This United States Marine Corp sniper, also known as “White Feather” during Vietnam, has been comfortable with stalking and shooting since he was a boy.
Marine Life for Carlos Hathcock
Raised by his grandmother for the first 12 years of his life, money was an issue. Hathcock took on the responsibility of caring for the family. He began hunting and shooting to put food on the table using his .22-caliber J.C. Higgins single-shot rifle. When he wasn’t hunting animals, he spent his free time hunting imaginary enemies with the Mauser his father brought back from WWII. His instinctual nature toward service, combined with love of country and firearms, made the dream of being a Marine an obvious choice; and at the age 17, he made that dream a reality.
Hathcock’s service record bolstered 93 confirmed kills (a conservative number). Known for his patience when pursuing his targets, he was legendary throughout Vietnam and quickly became a person of interest for the Vietcong. At one point the PAVN placed a bounty of $30,000 on Hathcock. For reference, the average going rate for bounties on American snipers was between $8 and $2,000; I would say that’s a good indicator of a job well done).
However, Hathcock was not the only infamous Vietnam figurehead being talked about and feared. A Vietnamese female platoon leader, interrogator and sniper known as “Apache” created quite the name for herself. She was not known for her leadership skills or even her sniper skills, but for her propensity toward torturing American “GIs.”
The name “Apache” was a nod toward the Apache Indians, who were known for their “creative” methods of torture before killing their victims. One of her signature moves involved placing herself and the prisoner of war within ear shot of a U.S. base. Why? To make sure U.S. soldiers heard her victim’s screams. This was a trap coupled with psychological warfare. Even if the Americans didn’t take the bait by running toward the GI to save him and then being killed themselves by one of her snipers, they would be forced to listen as their brother was tortured and left to die.
During her reign of terror, Americans would find her victims without eyelids, she kept them as trophies. Victims were found skinned and with fingernails missing. She made it a point to castrate them as well. She would leave them to bleed to death, or let them go knowing they wouldn’t survive.
Apache was overheard once talking to her victim, according to an excerpt in the book “Marine Sniper: 93 Confirmed Kills” by Charles Henderson. Warning: The excerpt is graphic:
“You cherry boy? I think maybe no. You get plenty p**** back stateside, yeah. You get Vietnamese p**** too? I think you do. You go China Beach swimming, f*** plenty. You like get cherry p****? Plenty American GI like cherry p****. F*** many young girl-take cherry p****. True! I know true. You mother****** GI!” she said. “You no f*** no more,” she said, as she approached him with a long, curved knife in her hand. Taking his genitals in her left hand, she jammed the blade’s point beneath the base of his penis, grazing his pubic bone. She pulled the knife with a sweeping, circular cut that released both testicles and his penis in one large handful of flesh that gushed with blood. She said, shaking with laughter, “Run, GI. Maybe you live-you find doctor in time! Run to wire. We watch Marines shoot you motherf*****.”
Carlos Hathcock vs. Apache
After this, Hathcock had had enough. He and his spotter finally got the opportunity they were looking for. They spotted a sniper platoon about 700 yards away:
“We were in the midst of switching rifles. We saw them, I saw a group coming, five of them. I saw her squat to pee; that’s how I knew it was her. They tried to get her to stop, but she didn’t stop. I stopped her. I put one extra in her for good measure.”
The shots fired by Hathcock completely shattered Apache’s spine and blew out all of her lower organs. A key moral victory for the U.S. troops, for Hathcock, and justice served for the ones brutally tortured at her hand.
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