Shots Fired in Anger: The Forgotten Legend of John George

Prologue: The Bunker at Point Cruz

January 22, 1943. Guadalcanal, Solomon Islands.
The jungle was never silent. Birds, insects, the distant rumble of artillery. But on this morning, the only sound Second Lieutenant John George cared about was the click of a branch, 87 feet up in a banyan tree, 240 yards away.

He peered through the scope of his Winchester Model 70—a civilian rifle his fellow officers had mocked for weeks. The men called it his “mail order sweetheart.” The armorer wanted to know if it was for deer or Germans. Captain Morris had ordered him to leave it in his tent and carry a “real weapon.” But George was stubborn. He carried it anyway.

Now, as he watched the trees west of Point Cruz, George was the battalion’s last hope against a new kind of enemy. Eleven Japanese snipers had killed fourteen Americans in seventy-two hours. The battalion commander wanted results. George had until morning to prove his rifle—and himself—could make a difference.

Chapter 1: The Rifle No One Believed In

John George was 27, an Illinois state champion marksman. In 1939, he’d become the youngest winner in state history, shooting six-inch groups at 600 yards with iron sights. But in war, credentials meant little. The Marines had fought since August, taken Henderson Field, but not Mount Austin, and had not cleared the Japanese from the coastal groves.

George’s battalion attacked Mount Austin in December. Sixteen days of brutal fighting ended with thirty-four men killed and 279 wounded. By January, George had yet to fire his Winchester in combat.

The jungle west of Point Cruz was different—no bunkers, just snipers in the massive banyan trees, some reaching ninety feet tall. The Japanese snipers used scoped Arisaka rifles and knew how to wait.

On January 19, a sniper killed Corporal Davis at a creek. On January 20, two more men died. On January 21, three more fell—one shot through the neck from a tree the patrol had walked past twice. The battalion commander summoned George. “Can your rifle do anything?” he asked.

George described his shooting record. The commander gave him a chance. If he failed, the ridicule would never end.

Chapter 2: First Shot, First Kill

George spent the night cleaning his rifle, checking the mounts, loading five rounds of .30-06 military ball ammunition. At dawn, he moved into the ruins of a Japanese bunker overlooking the coconut groves. He brought no spotter, no radio—just his rifle, a canteen, and sixty rounds.

At 9:17 a.m., George saw movement. A branch shifted—no wind. He found the shape: a man, dark clothing, positioned in a fork where three branches met. The Japanese sniper was facing east, watching the trail.

George adjusted his scope, controlled his breathing, squeezed the trigger. The Winchester kicked into his shoulder. The sound cracked through the jungle. The sniper jerked, fell, and tumbled ninety feet to the ground.

George worked the bolt, chambered another round, kept his scope on the tree. He waited for movement—knowing snipers often worked in pairs. At 9:43, he found the second sniper, sixty yards north, moving down the trunk. George led the movement, fired. The second sniper fell.

By noon, George had killed five Japanese snipers. Word spread. Men who had mocked his rifle now asked to watch him work. He refused. Spectators drew attention—and attention drew fire.

Chapter 3: The Duel Begins

The Japanese snipers adapted after the fifth kill. They stopped moving during daylight. George spent the afternoon glassing trees but saw nothing.

On January 23, rain turned the jungle floor to mud. George waited in the bunker for the weather to clear. When it did, he spotted another sniper, 290 yards out, who had climbed into position during the rain. George compensated for distance and fired—the sniper fell.

At 9:57, Japanese mortars began hitting the area. They had triangulated his position. The first rounds landed forty yards short. The second, twenty yards short. The third would hit the bunker. George grabbed his rifle and ran, diving into a shell crater as the bunker disappeared in explosions.

He relocated to a fallen tree, 120 yards north, and resumed his watch. The Japanese sent more snipers. The duel was now mutual—George hunted them, they hunted him.

At 2:23 p.m., George killed his seventh sniper. At 3:41, his eighth. By 5:00 p.m., he had spent nine hours in position. Captain Morris wanted numbers. George reported eight confirmed kills over two days—twelve rounds fired, eight kills, four misses.

Chapter 4: The Last Three

That night, George cleaned his rifle and considered the mathematics. Eleven snipers had operated in the groves. Eight were dead; three remained—the best, the smartest, the survivors.

At 3:00 a.m., George gave up trying to sleep. He sat in his tent with the rifle across his lap. Rain started again at 4:15. By 5:30, dawn operations were delayed. George chose a new position—a cluster of rocks used by Marines as a machine gun nest.

At 8:17, he found sniper number nine, low in a palm tree, only forty feet up. It looked too easy. George suspected bait. He scanned the surrounding trees and, at 8:28, found the real threat: a sniper in a banyan tree, 91 feet up, with a clear line of sight to George’s previous position.

George aimed at the decoy, fired, then swung his rifle to the banyan. The real sniper reacted to the shot, shifting position. George fired before he could fully turn. Two shots, two kills.

But his position was now revealed. He ran east along the rocks, dropped into a drainage ditch, pressed himself into the mud. At 8:34, Japanese machine gun fire raked the rocks where he’d been seconds before.

Chapter 5: The Final Test

George relocated to a shell crater filled with rainwater. He resumed glassing trees. Ten confirmed kills, one remaining. The eleventh sniper was the best, the most experienced. He had watched ten comrades die. He knew George’s tactics and rifle.

At 9:47, George realized his mistake. The eleventh sniper wasn’t in the trees—he was on the ground, crawling toward George’s last known position. George remained motionless in the water-filled crater, the Winchester shouldered, his breathing controlled.

At 9:58, the Japanese sniper moved closer, taking up a position facing east toward the drainage ditch. His back was exposed—an easy shot. But George hesitated. This sniper wouldn’t make mistakes. The position was too exposed, too vulnerable. It had to be bait.

George expanded his awareness, scanning the area. At 10:06, he found a second soldier behind a fallen tree, watching the drainage ditch. Two men, not one. The eleventh sniper had brought support.

George couldn’t shoot both before they reacted. The bolt-action Winchester required him to work the action between shots. He needed a different approach.

He submerged deeper, only his eyes and the rifle barrel above water. At 10:13, the soldier in the rocks stood up, signaled to his partner. Both began moving east, executing a sweep.

George waited until their backs were exposed, then rose from the water, aimed, fired. The first soldier dropped. He worked the bolt, fired again—the second soldier fell.

Eleven shots over three days. Eleven Japanese snipers dead. George had cleared the Point Cruz groves of the threat that had killed fourteen Americans.

Chapter 6: Escape and Recognition

As George climbed out of the crater, he heard voices—Japanese infantry, a patrol sent to recover the bodies. He dropped back into the water, submerged until only his eyes remained above the surface, rifle vertical to keep the barrel clear.

Six men, maybe more, approached. George had five rounds left. At 10:31, a soldier appeared at the crater rim. Their eyes met. George fired from the water—the soldier fell backward. He worked the bolt, fired twice more—two more soldiers dropped.

Three rounds left. George heard shouting, more soldiers moving toward him. He climbed out of the crater on the north side, ran twenty yards, dropped behind a fallen tree. Japanese rifle fire cracked through the jungle, striking the ground around him.

He glassed the area, saw two soldiers advancing toward the crater. George fired at the lead soldier—he dropped. The second dove for cover. Two rounds left. More voices behind him—the Japanese were flanking.

George knew he couldn’t win a firefight with a bolt-action rifle against multiple semi-automatics. He needed to break contact. He ran north, sprinted through jungle undergrowth, vines catching his boots, branches whipping his face. Bullets snapped past, struck trees.

After ninety seconds, he dove into another shell crater, pressed against the wall, listened. The voices were distant. They had not pursued.

At 11:13, George reached the American perimeter. A Marine sentry challenged him. George identified himself, reported to Captain Morris. Eleven snipers killed over four days, twelve rounds fired against snipers, eleven hits. Three more killed in the firefight. Morris told him to clean his rifle and rest.

Chapter 7: Building a Sniper Section

Word came down from division headquarters. The regimental commander wanted to see George. He wondered if he’d be reprimanded for unauthorized engagement or excessive ammunition expenditure. Instead, Colonel Ferry asked if George could train others.

George agreed, on one condition—he kept his Winchester. Ferry approved. Fourteen Springfield rifles with Unertle scopes went to the men he would train.

Training began January 27. Forty men assembled at a makeshift range. They were expert marksmen on paper, but none had killed from concealment. George started with fundamentals—breathing, trigger squeeze, reading wind. He taught them to use any available support, adapt to terrain, create stable platforms.

Range training lasted three days. By January 30, thirty-two men could consistently hit man-sized targets at 300 yards under field conditions. George divided them into sixteen two-man teams—shooter and spotter. The spotter carried binoculars and a Garand, providing security and locating targets.

On February 1, George took four teams into the field. Their mission: clear Japanese positions west of the Matanakau River. Over six hours, George’s team engaged seven Japanese soldiers—seven shots, six kills, one miss due to wind. The other teams reported similar results—twenty-three Japanese killed, zero American casualties.

By February 9, the sniper section had killed seventy-four Japanese soldiers. The section was officially recognized by division headquarters. Colonel Ferry recommended George for a Bronze Star.

Chapter 8: Wounds and New Missions

On February 7, near the Tanam Boa River, a Japanese rifleman shot George in the left shoulder. Hayes dragged him to cover, called for a corpsman. The wound was serious but not fatal. George was evacuated to a field hospital.

During his recovery, the Japanese completed their evacuation of Guadalcanal. On February 9, American forces reached Cape Esperance and found it empty.

George’s sniper section had operated for twelve days—seventy-four confirmed kills, zero friendly casualties. But George’s war was not finished. Orders came down from Pacific Command—the army needed experienced combat officers for a new mission in Burma.

George volunteered. By March, he was on a transport ship heading west, his Winchester Model 70 packed in a waterproof case.

Chapter 9: Merrill’s Marauders

The transport reached India on April 3. George and 200 other officers joined a new unit—3,000 men, no official designation yet. They called themselves Merrill’s Marauders.

Training took place in central India. The terrain was different, but the principles remained—heat, humidity, dense vegetation, limited visibility. The Burma jungle would be worse.

George modified his equipment for the mission. He replaced the Lyman Alaskan scope with a lighter Weaver 330, swapped the wooden stock for a synthetic one. The rifle’s weight dropped from 9 pounds 12 ounces to 8 pounds 14 ounces.

The Marauders entered Burma in February 1944. Their mission: advance through northern Burma and capture the Myitkyina airfield, critical for Allied supply routes into China.

The march began February 24. The first week covered eighty-three miles through mountainous jungle. Men collapsed from exhaustion. Malaria cases increased. Pack mules struggled with the terrain.

By March, the battalion had covered 217 miles, engaged Japanese forces twelve times—skirmishes, ambushes, quick firefights. The Marauders were meant to move, harass, cut supply lines.

George used his Winchester three times—once at 412 yards against a Japanese officer, once at 380 yards against a machine gun position, once at 290 yards against a sniper. Three shots, three kills. He learned to shoot and move immediately, never firing more than once per engagement.

The march to Myitkyina took three months. By late May, the Marauders had covered over 700 miles. More men were lost to disease than combat. The unit that entered Burma with 5,300 men was down to fewer than 3,000.

On May 17, the Marauders captured Myitkyina airfield. The operation was a success, but the cost was severe. The unit was combat ineffective.

Chapter 10: Lessons of War

George survived the Burma campaign. His Winchester survived, but the rifle was used only seven times in three months. Most combat was close-range ambushes at fifty yards or less. George realized modern warfare was changing. Semi-automatic rifles like the Garand were becoming standard. The next war would require different weapons, different tactics.

By June 1944, George was evacuated from Burma. The Marauders were disbanded. He was reassigned to training duties in the United States, never firing his Winchester in combat again.

George returned to the U.S. in July 1944. The Army promoted him to captain, assigned him to Fort Benning, Georgia, training infantry officers in marksmanship and small unit tactics. He taught lessons learned on Guadalcanal and in Burma—how to move through jungle terrain, identify and engage targets at distance, operate independently.

He kept his Winchester Model 70. The rifle had traveled from Illinois to Tennessee to Guadalcanal to India to Burma to Georgia. It had killed at least fourteen enemy soldiers in confirmed engagements.

The war changed. The need for individual marksmen with privately owned rifles faded. The military standardized equipment and training. George understood the necessity—but something was lost. The craftsman approach to soldiering, the idea that a man with the right rifle and training could change the outcome of a battle.

Chapter 11: After the War

George was discharged in January 1947—a lieutenant colonel, two Bronze Stars, one Purple Heart, combat infantry badge. He returned to Illinois, enrolled at Princeton on the GI Bill, graduated with highest honors in 1950.

After Princeton, George spent four years at Oxford, then four years in British East Africa studying regional politics. He settled in Washington, D.C., as executive director of the Institute of African-American Relations, later joining the State Department’s Foreign Affairs Institute as a consultant and lecturer.

George never spoke publicly about Guadalcanal or Burma. Colleagues knew he had served in the Pacific, but not about Point Cruz, the Japanese snipers, or the Winchester Model 70.

In 1947, George decided to write down what had happened—not for publication, just for his own record. He wanted to document the weapons and tactics of jungle warfare while details were fresh. The manuscript grew to over 400 pages. A friend at the NRA convinced him to publish. The book, Shots Fired in Anger, became a classic among firearms enthusiasts and military historians. It described George’s experiences with clinical precision—no embellishment, no hero worship, just facts and observations.

The book remains in print, still used by collectors and historians studying WWII small arms. George’s descriptions of Japanese weapons are among the most detailed contemporary accounts available.

Epilogue: Legacy Remembered

George lived to see the United States fight three more wars—Korea, Vietnam, the Gulf War. He watched the evolution of military rifles from the Garand to the M14 to the M16, watched sniping become a formal specialty with dedicated training and equipment.

John George died on January 3, 2009, at age 90. The Winchester Model 70 that had killed Japanese snipers on Guadalcanal was donated to the National Firearms Museum in Fairfax, Virginia. It sits in a display case with a placard describing its history. Most visitors walk past without stopping. It looks like any other vintage hunting rifle—but it is not.

It is the rifle that proved a state champion marksman with a mail order scope could outshoot professionally trained military snipers. The rifle that cleared Point Cruz groves in four days when an entire battalion could not in two weeks. The rifle that changed how the American military thought about individual marksmanship in modern warfare.