GRAND RAPIDS — While there is no movie about him, Wood County has its own “American sniper” — Carlton
“Cotty” Hausman.
Though the World War II veteran – now a resident at Grand Rapids Care Center – bears no resemblance, nor
any connection, to the subject in the Academy Award-nominated film, "American Sniper," Hausman
can weave endless yarns and tales of his life before, during and after the war worthy of a movie script.

As an expert marksman, he recorded 33 kills in his role as a scout for L Company in the 34th Infantry
Division, 168th Regiment. A scout, he was also named the company’s sniper.
Though he was sometimes called "Crazy Bill" in war circles, he more accurately has always been
a free and wily spirit.
Born in Perrysburg, he dropped out of school in the ninth grade. Though he wanted to serve his country
sooner, he was drafted in 1943, serving in the Army until his honorable discharge in 1945. Most of his
military time was spent in Italy. For his service he was awarded numerous medals including two Purple
Hearts for injuries received and two Bronze Stars.
Though he acknowledged and lived through countless horrors of war, unlike most soldiers, Hausman said,
"I kind of enjoyed it."
Perhaps it was his positive attitude and dedication to details in his work, but he enjoyed his ability to
employ his devil-may-care attitude and free spirit.
Upon returning to the states, a move which he fought, he said he found he could not always express the
enjoyment he felt. Sometimes the people he was talking with may have lost a loved one to the war and his
view offended them.
"I quit telling people I enjoyed it. I was better off not saying anything," Hausman said.
Jen Shank, the director of social services at the care center, where he has lived for the last three
years, said, "We all love Cotty. He has so many wonderful stories. He’s an amazing man."
She regularly brings in extra bread which he uses daily to feed the birds outside.
At age 90, Hausman still maintains detailed memories of the men, their names and even specific
conversations with them from the war.
Being a sniper or scout was not a popular duty. Almost no one volunteered for the  job – except for
Hausman.
His main motivation was to avoid being on guard duty, as the scouts were spared that task.
"I didn’t like guard duty. If you let an American prisoner escape you had to do their time," he
said.
One of his buddies was doing guard duty one day in bitter cold weather and Cotty said he wanted to avoid
that, because his friend was guarding empty ammunition boxes.
"Guard duty seemed pretty foolish to me."
When his commander asked for volunteers to be a scout, Hausman said he ran through ice cold water to get
to the front of the line. The line consisted of one volunteer – him.
"Are you crazy? We’ve had three guys out there and they are all dead," a friend told him.
"I decided I was going to keep this job," Hausman said of his ultimate decision.
During his time, his company had 12 snipers; 11 of them died in action.
"They all did something foolish," Hausman said of the others. "I didn’t do anything
foolish."
He noted two of the common booby traps set by the enemy – which he avoided. The first was an open cabin
door out in the wilderness, and a second was a weapon on a dead enemy soldier’s body. Both contained
explosives designed to kill Allied soldiers.
Hausman once shared a foxhole with "Ernie" Pyle, a Pulitzer Prize-winning American journalist
who was covering the war; he kept one of the writer’s signature hats, which he had left behind.
Besides volunteering for the scout post, he earned the "crazy" moniker for his willingness to
go out and retrieve a comrade and return him to safety for treatment.
In 1944, he was doing scout work at the Battle of Monte Cassino. He recalls being on top of a monastery
he called a castle on a hill. The "Jerrys" – using the popular British term for the enemy
Germans – began bombing his rooftop perch. Hausman jumped off and injured his ankle, a wound that has
never fully healed.
He said he escaped by crawling, using his elbows as he could not put any pressure on his ankle or foot.

"I thought I had just sprained it," he said. A doctor 40 years later diagnosed that he broke
the ankle in two places.
That was not his only escape. Hausman was AWOL – Absent Without Leave – for 183 days during the war. He
escaped from a hospital where he was being treated for a gunshot wound received in combat.
"I was ready to go back and they didn’t want to release me, so I left anyway," he said, and hid
out in Rome near the famous Colosseum.
While hiding out in the ancient landmark, Hausman said some of his fellow G.I.s would bring young ladies
there. Rather than be discovered, he would mimic ghost sounds and the soldiers and guests would take
off. Days later in a bar, he overheard the men talking, warning each other to stay out of the Colosseum
as it was haunted.
When caught and returned to his unit from being AWOL, the Army took two-thirds of his pay, leaving him
only $10 a month for living expenses. Hausman didn’t smoke, so the regularly sold his rations of
cigarettes along with extra soap to fellow soldiers through his own black market.
His exploits in civilian life are also filled with interesting tales including bouts with police, and
five marriages (one or two more than once). His careers were varied including handcrafting saddles,
electrical work, and working with Baker O’Brien, a noted artist at the Labino Glass Studio. Some of his
hand-tooled saddles have appeared in the Tournament of Roses Parade in Pasadena, California. He went out
west after a Toledo judge and Hausman’s attorney told him he should leave town after run-ins with Toledo
police officers who would target him.
Hausman said they were crooked cops who were later dismissed. "I told the judge and the attorney I
would go to Indiana. They both told me ‘That’s not far enough.’"
He moved back to Toledo in 1970 and later to Grand Rapids because his sister lived here. He has spent the
last 30 years in the Wood County village.
Kim Stockstiel has developed a strong friendship with Hausman.
"Cotty liked to do what he liked to do," she said. "I share that same free spirit – a
rebel after my own heart."
Despite his wild history, Stockstiel stressed, "Cotty is a true gentleman, through and through. He
is a hero filled with a lot of kindness and compassion."
She said if she is having a bad day, he can make her laugh. "I just love listening to his stories,
they are soothing."