“SNIPERS” AT WORK
The “sniper” of the present war would have been called a “sharpshooter”
during the war of the rebellion. Such men are most expert in the use
of the rifle and seldom miss their mark. Many of them have now become
proficient in the use of the modern machine gun for the same class of
work, that of picking off the “lookouts” on the firing platforms of the
opposing trenches.
Most everyone has heard of the game bird known as the snipe. They
are very small and hard to see, usually blending with the landscape
and shrubbery. When it is said of a man that he can “hit a snipe
with a rifle at two hundred yards,” the last word in praise of his
markmanship has been said. Thus the term “sharpshooter” has been
displaced by the word “sniper” by reason of the American love of
brevity.
The “sniper” of to-day is no less than a picked marksman whose trained
eye is both keen and tireless. The “lookouts” of the trenches may
well be wary of him. They know he is always on the job and that
his far-seeing eye, with the aid of the globe-sights through which
he constantly peers in search of his prey, is ever on the lookout.
He knows the hatred in which he is held and that once captured no
punishment is held too cruel for infliction upon him.
There was one place in our front line where the trench was shallow and
a man of ordinary height would have been exposed from his shoulders
up had it not been for two boards twelve inches wide that had been
placed there. The two ends that came together were not sawed straight
and left a V shape where they joined. Some sand bags were placed in
front of the opening between the two boards, but the V was left partly
uncovered, which enabled the Boche to peer through. The opening was so
small that it was impossible to see a man and get a shot at him before
he had passed.
In front of the German trenches at this point was a willow tree that
had been pruned for the willow industry. This means that when the tree
grows up to the required height the main trunk is cut away and the
stump sealed. Then the dwarfed tree starts sprouting, “shoots.” This
keeps it short and bushy. Such was this tree. From within it a man
could observe the top of a helmet in our trench on either side of the
V-shaped “peep hole.”
This was just the knowledge that the Boche wanted in order to make use
of the bad joint between the boards. A man was placed in the willow
with a machine gun, which was strapped securely into the fork of the
tree so it would not shake. It was trained on the V hole between the
two boards. The gun was so fastened that it did not have to be aimed,
for each time it was fired the ball would go straight through the V.
One of the boys in the French trench unknowingly exposed himself and
was found dead with a bullet through his brain. There was nothing to
cause any other thought than that he had carelessly looked over the top.
Later that afternoon a sergeant, in line of duty, was going along
the same trench inspecting the machine-gun positions. Three or four
shots were heard and he was found dead with a bullet through his head.
While mystifying, this second death did not reveal the truth. The
sergeant was tall and his death was laid to this fact. However, the
French lieutenant did know that whoever was doing the shooting was no
amateur, and gave orders to his men to be especially cautious, and it
so happened that no one else was hit that day.
Next morning, nevertheless, brought renewed activities, and among
the first casualties was the death of a French boy who was killed at
the same spot by a bullet through his head. This brought about an
investigation, which disclosed the V-shaped opening between the two
boards. A sand bag ended further trouble from this source, but the
location of the “sniper” was yet in order. A Frenchman at a machine-gun
position thought that he had noticed smoke issuing from the willow
tree. It was decided to keep careful watch on it and send a scouting
patrol out that night. As soon as it was dark enough the men started
out and soon found the Boche tucked away in the tree with his gun.
Needless to say, no time was wasted on him, several bayonet thrusts
serving to end his activities as a machine-gun sniper.
In another location there was a little brook just behind the line,
and, during the summer, the boys would go back about thirty yards and
fill their canteens with fresh, cool water—and sometimes they failed
to return. When found they would be lying dead in the brook, which was
only a few inches deep.
The roadway on the side nearest the Boches was eight feet above the
brook and everywhere else perfect covering was afforded, yet every
once in a while someone was bagged here. Finally a young fellow, who
was preparing to fill his canteen, before doing so dropped to his knees
to take a drink from the stream. Just as he did this he heard three
bullets whistle over his head and splash in the brook some distance
ahead, which disclosed the fact that the Boches were shooting from a
position over five hundred yards away through a culvert in the road.
When the target showed through this culvert several bullets sped on
their way. The act of stooping over had saved the young man’s life.