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CRETE EPIC

HULME REMEMBERS SERGEANT'S THRILLING TALE "At one stage I found myself actually advancing with the Jerries towards our own boys. Several of them were camouflaged and so was I, so they took me for one of them. I lay alongside them as they fired and put my sights up to 700 yards so that my shots would go high and I wouldn't hit my own cobbers. A German spoke to me. I knew no German and couldn't answer him, so I crawled over and knifed him." This, to Sergeant A. C. Hulme, V.C., was just another incident during the Crete affair. He told me many such incidents this morning, hair-raising tales of the sniper sniped; of breathless moments in no-man's-land, when men might lie within feet of each other, not daring to breathe for fear of never breathing again; of senses and nerves keyed up to such a pitch that in stalking your man you can "hear the mosquitoes landing on the grass"; of waiting for a whole day hidden somewhere behind the enemy's lines, with nothing to eat or drink, waiting patiently for an opportunity to fire just one shot which must go home. These epic tales were told in a matter-of-fact way. There were certain things that had to be done, and they were done. That was all.

Incidentally, the fact that Sergeant Hulme put up his sights on the occasion mentioned above to save the lives of his own men was responsible for the wound which has Drought him—temporarily at least—back to his homeland. A short while afterward he shot at a German sniper. The sights were still up—in the excitement of the moment the old army rule of lowering the sights had been overlooked.

His shot went over the sniper's head and the intended victim, rudely awakened to the fact that he was not alone, returned the fire. The result was a rest for a man who had well earned it.

Sniping Technique The technique of sniping and accounting for enemy snipers, as explained by Sergeant Hulme, would not appeal to everyone. Preparations include a camouflage cloak made from a German parachute, a belt full of revolvers and a captured Mauser rifle with telescopic sights. Action commences at sunset. As the dusk deepens, men are crawling out from both German and English lines, reckless, determined men, to whom death is an unimportant caprice of fate. They may meet each other in no-man's-land. After the meeting only one may continue—or perhaps neither. They crawl on hands and knees, run in short, stumbling bursts, or maybe lay motionless for a tense hour.

The enemy's lines are penetrated, and then, before dawn becomes dangerously close, a . place of concealment must be found. It is surprising what a small depression or mound may offer in the way of concealment. As Sergeant Hulme pointed out, a man can lie under a camouflaged parachute in the middle of an open field and cannot be seen 5Q yards away.

The hardest task lies ahead. It Is not easy to lie absolutely still for perhaps 12 hours with the enemy within range. Finally, the opportunity may present itself and there is a sharp crack. A German falls, and immediately hundreds of pairs of eyes are scanning the surrounding territory for a tell-tale movement.

Tense Moment This, for the sniper, is the most dangerous moment of the whole expedition. He dare not even move a muscle; a rifle still points at where its victim had stood. Only his eyes move as he watches the watchers. And in the dusk the perilous return journey has still to be made—made by a man who has not tasted food or slept for 24 hours.

, "But a man can go without food I or sleep so long as he has a rest occasionally," v said Sergeant Hulme in explanation. "The first three days are the worst, and after that you can just live on your nerves." According to Sergeant Hulme, hisi trickiest experience was the locating of four German snipers who had created havoc by their accurate and deadly fire. "I walked up and down oa the edge of a ridge to draw their fire while the others watched," he said, "but they refused to be drawn. And then 1 happened to spot, in the glow of the setting sun, a glint of glass in an olive tree about 100 yards away. A Jerry Was straddling a branch up there against the trunk and the glint of glass had come from his gas mask, which he had worn all day, so that the white of his face could not be seen. We charged the olive grove at dusk and got the issue.

Grateful Thanks Another memory was of a wrestling match at Galatos. Sergeant Hulme came across two figures struggling on the ground in the dark. "Hey, what's all this?" he asked. From near his feet a small voice piped up, "I'm a New Zealander and this is a so-and-so great German on top of me!" "We'll soon fix that," said the sergeant, and did so.

The New Zealander—a small man —struggled to his feet and regarded the body of his late opponent. Then he turned to the sergeant. "You- silly such-and-such," he said in disgust, "you should have come along ages ago." "And that," remarked Sergeant Hulme, grinning, "was all the thanks I got." Memories Remain

No one would have thought a year or so ago that this mild-faced but splendidly built Neslon farmer with heavy-lidded keen blue eyes would have memories such as he has today. But he has memories and can tell of them in a picturesque yet unassuming style that cannot fail to grip. The butchered shambles of what was Galatos. . . . Retiring to a rest to Suda Bay only to find 250 German paratroops waiting for them. . . . Firing the last shots in the hastilyorganised retreat. . . . Olive groves with dead Germans dangling from the branches by their entangled parachutes. . . . Hedge-hopping Messerschmitts converting grassy fields into ploughed soil with raking machinegun fire. . . . Countless desperate hand-to-hand struggles with sheath knife, bayonet or pistol ending the conflict. ...

These are the memories of Sergeant Hulme, V.C., and he remembers, too, that his comrades are still somewhere "over there." Although he does not wish it, there may be another Crete where a keen-eyed daredevil marksman may be needed. It is his greatest wish that he will be i allowed to rejoin "the boys" as soon as possible.

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Permanent link to this item

https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/AS19411018.2.70.4

Bibliographic details

Auckland Star, Volume LXXII, Issue 247, 18 October 1941, Page 8

Word Count
1,078

CRETE EPIC Auckland Star, Volume LXXII, Issue 247, 18 October 1941, Page 8

CRETE EPIC Auckland Star, Volume LXXII, Issue 247, 18 October 1941, Page 8