COMMANDER SAMSON.

Otago Witness, Issue 3195, 9 June 1915, Page 81

COMMANDER SAMSON.

A MAN WHO IS MAKING HISTORY. If there is one man who is thoroughlyenjoying this war, if there is one man who has succeeded in turning it into the finest sport in the world, that man is Commander Samson.

For brilliance and versatility lie is unquestionably the man in this campaign. The Germans tear him more than they tear any other man. They have offered a reward ot £IOOO tor his body, alive or dead —preferably the latter. And little- wonder ! It was estimated as far back as last December that in one way and another Samson had cost the enemy the expenditure of between live and six thousand shells, not to mention rifle cartridges innumerable. Yet he remains unscathed, and even more daring than when the war began. He has done wonders in reconnoitring up in the air. When the Germans fire at him he loops the loop, as impudent as Drake before the Spaniards. Or, perhaps, with reckless audacity, when he is fired at over a German camp, he turns upon one wing and then comes “twiddling down in a close spiral like a ■partridge,” as one writer has put it.

In doing this Samson imitates the fall of an aeroplane that has been vitally hit. The Germans believe that they have brought the airman to earth, and e’ease fire, watching the descent. When he is about 500 yards from ihe ground Samson takes a good look at everything he came to take a good look at —or else he drops half a dozen bombs on carefully-selected spots. And then, righting himself again, up he flies into the air, and is out of range before the astonished enemy can believe their eyes.

There is another trick—an armoured motor car trick —which Samson performed when two raachm’e guns were annoying our advanced trenches. One of these guns was posted in a windmill; the other in an adjacent cottage. And they were doing such effective work that Commander Samson decided v to queer their game. For this purpose ho commandeered an armoured car with a three-pounder quickfiring gun. His friends prophesied failure. “ You will never get near enough to the enemy’s trenches,” they said. But they did not know the plot that was hatching m Samson’s brain. One morning the Gormans were surprised to behold a low, slate-coloured car dash out of the linos of the Allies, followed by a heavy fusillade from the British Tommies. Quite naturally they leapt to the conclusion that this car was a German one, which was endeavouring to escape- the British. And equally naturally they refrained from firing on it.

On came the ear at a furious rate. Just as it was about to enter the German lines, however, it pulled up short. Fifteen seconds later the windmill, the machine gun and its crew had been blown to pieces by the shells of Samson’s quick-firer. A moment after that the cottage and its contents had suffered a like fate. And before the Germans could gather their scattered wits the car had shot back to the British lines, where it was greeted with round upon round of cheers.