Abu Tahsin al-Salhi, dubbed the “Sheikh of Snipers,” claimed hundreds of kills fighting ISIS
When you look at the modern wars in Iraq, most of the faces are young. Then there was Abu Tahsin al-Salhi. Gray beard. Weathered face. A man well into his sixties who stepped back onto a battlefield when most men his age are long retired. Iraqi media would later call him the “Sheikh of Snipers,” and he became a symbol of resistance during the fight against ISIS.
You need to understand the setting. Iraq in 2014 was reeling. ISIS had swept across large swaths of territory, and volunteers poured into newly formed militia units to stop the advance. Al-Salhi was one of them. His story spread quickly—part legend, part documented fact—but rooted in a very real and brutal war.
A Veteran Long Before ISIS
Before ISIS ever existed, Abu Tahsin al-Salhi had already spent decades around conflict. Reports from Iraqi sources say he fought in earlier Arab-Israeli wars and later conflicts involving Iraq. Whether every campaign attributed to him can be independently verified is another matter, but there’s no question he was no stranger to war by the time ISIS emerged.
That long background shaped how he carried himself. You weren’t looking at a novice volunteer eager for attention. You were looking at a man who had seen previous generations of fighting and believed this was another chapter in a long struggle. Age didn’t sideline him. It sharpened his sense of purpose.
Joining the Popular Mobilization Forces
When ISIS seized territory in northern Iraq, al-Salhi joined the Popular Mobilization Forces, often referred to as PMF. These were largely Shiite militias mobilized after a 2014 religious call to arms to defend the country. Many volunteers had little formal training. Al-Salhi brought experience.
He reportedly operated in areas such as Salahuddin province and near the Baiji oil refinery—one of the war’s key strategic locations. Urban combat, shifting front lines, and ISIS snipers on the other side made it a grinding fight. You weren’t looking at clean, long-range engagements. You were looking at contested ground where patience and positioning mattered more than bravado.
The Claim of “Hundreds”
Al-Salhi publicly claimed to have killed hundreds of ISIS fighters, with some figures cited around 300 or more. Those numbers were widely repeated in Iraqi and regional media. Independent verification of exact tallies in a chaotic war zone is nearly impossible, and any seasoned observer knows that confirmed counts in irregular warfare are hard to nail down.
Still, what mattered locally wasn’t a spreadsheet. It was morale. In a fight where ISIS propaganda was powerful and brutal, having a gray-bearded marksman publicly stating he had taken the fight back to them carried weight. Whether the exact number was precise or not, the psychological effect was real.
Why He Became a Symbol
Part of al-Salhi’s reputation came from image as much as action. Photos and video clips circulated online showing him with a long rifle, speaking calmly about his role. In a war dominated by younger fighters and masked extremists, his age stood out. He looked more like a village elder than a frontline sniper.
That contrast mattered. To many Iraqis, he represented continuity and defiance. He framed his participation as a duty to defend his country and holy sites. In that sense, his legend grew not only from battlefield reports, but from what he symbolized in a country struggling to regain control of its territory.
The Battle of Hawija
In 2017, during operations to retake Hawija—one of ISIS’s last strongholds in Iraq—al-Salhi was killed by mortar fire. He was around 63 years old at the time. His death was widely reported in Iraqi media and marked the end of a figure who had become larger than life in some circles.
Hawija was not a minor skirmish. It was part of the broader push that ultimately dismantled ISIS’s hold on Iraqi cities. Al-Salhi died not in retirement, not behind a desk, but in the same forward areas where he had built his reputation. For supporters, that cemented his status.
Separating Legend From Record
Whenever you look at a wartime figure like al-Salhi, you have to separate documented events from battlefield storytelling. Militia fighters aren’t operating under the same public affairs structure as conventional armies. Numbers get repeated. Stories gain momentum. Details blur.
What remains solid is this: he volunteered late in life, fought with the PMF against ISIS, gained national attention for his claimed sniper record, and was killed in action in 2017. Strip away the mythology and you’re still left with an older man who chose to reenter combat in one of the most brutal urban wars of the last decade. That alone explains why people still remember his name.

Asher was raised in the woods and on the water, and it shows. He’s logged more hours behind a rifle and under a heavy pack than most men twice his age.
