Sniper One: The Blistering True Story of a British Battle Group Under Siege

Sniper One: The Blistering True Story of a British Battle Group Under Siege

Dan Mills

Language: English

Pages: 384

ISBN: B002RI9LDU

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub

Sniper One: The Blistering True Story of a British Battle Group Under Siege

Dan Mills

Language: English

Pages: 384

ISBN: B002RI9LDU

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub


If you loved American Sniper you will love this book. Sunday Times No. 1 bestseller Sniper One takes you right into the heart of the Iraq war.
'One of the best first-hand accounts of combat that I've ever read' Andy McNab
We all saw it at once. Half a dozen voices screamed 'Grenade!' simultaneously. Then everything went into slow motion. The grenade took an age to travel through its 20 metre arc. A dark, small oval-shaped package of misery the size of a peach ...
April 2004: Dan Mills and his platoon of snipers fly into southern Iraq, part of an infantry battalion sent to win hearts and minds. They were soon fighting for their lives.
Back home we were told they were peacekeeping. But there was no peace to keep. Because within days of arriving in theatre, Mills and his men were caught up in the longest, most sustained fire fight British troops had faced for over fifty years.
This awe-inspiring account tells of total war in throat-burning winds and fifty-degree heat, blasted by mortars and surrounded by heavily armed militias. For six months, they fought alone: isolated, besieged and under constant enemy fire. Their heroic stand a modern-day Rorke's Drift.
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Dan Mills served for 24 years as an Infantry Soldier reaching the rank of Warrant Officer Class 2. During his long military career he served on operations in Northern Ireland, Bosnia, Kosovo, Iraq and Afghanistan. Dan was awarded a 'Mention In Despatches' for Gallantry for his services during The Iraq War. Since leaving the Army in 2010, he has forged a career as a writer and security consultant, amongst other things. Sniper One is his first book.

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battle group Ops Room, the Int Cell collated all the snippets of information and gossip they could pick up about the enemy's movements. It was all graded in terms of its reliability; some things were very accurate, other stuff total fantasy. The new warning had the highest reliability grading possible. It came from a tip-off from a senior insurgency source. Abu Hatim, the brother of the disgraced ex-governor and the self-styled Lord of the Marshes, was back in town. Over the years, he had built

I'm hit, I'm hit. Fuck it,' he shouted again and again. He half ran half hobbled down the pavement towards me and my Snatch. With a massive release of adrenalin squirting into his nervous system, it had taken him a few seconds to realize what had happened. Both trouser legs were heavily ripped, and a dozen claret-coloured blood spots had started to grow on the Combat 95 desert camouflage material from his belt to his boot soles. As he hobbled, blood also began to leak out of his right boot and

hadn't found it safe enough to come back. As soldiers, it was a desperately sad site. You deserved more than that if you had made the ultimate sacrifice for your country. We had a wander around the place and reflected on it. Nobody said much. 'The poor sods,' said Chris. Even he knew a Blackadder line wouldn't have been appropriate there. 'Here we are, back here all over again. Why are we always fighting the Arabs?' We didn't stay for long. I could see some of the younger lads getting a bit

without rank slides and looked generally unkempt, because that's how we performed our special trade. We would patter around with our shirts hanging out, sleeves not rolled up and our hair and sideburns worn long. And we didn't wear twisters in our trousers, which meant they extended down to cover most of our boots. But we were scruffy for a good military reason. We don't like washing our field clothes because we've got to smell like the ground we're operating in. If you try and hide out in the

their local pub would want to buy them a drink. They regularly scanned the Internet and watched Sky News for even the smallest passing reference, when the satellite dish hadn't been blown down. But for months there was nothing. The older ones among us worked it out soon enough. It was confirmed during a visit from the brigadier who was based down in Basra. The papers weren't writing about us because they hadn't a Scooby any of this was even going on. The MoD was doing an excellent job of simply

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