SNIPING.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 12406, 26 August 1918, Page 5

SNIPING.

Along the communication trench a solitary _ figure picks ,his way, rifle swingimg loosely over shoulder. Ha has no eye for the beauties of the coming day, for he has seen them many times before, and he is very verv sleepy. ’ J Soon he reaches his post, a deserted bib of trench on slightly higher ground than the surrounding country. This is" our sniper’s home for every hour of light that the day affords. He makes a minute examination of the_ enemy trench, every inch of which is familiar to him through long acquaintance. . hj * Brother Boche has been busy in the night.” Here is "a new loophole, cunningly , concealed; but even the wily Hun may bo caught napping, and this one lias forgotten remove the traces of fresh earth, which insistently calls attention toJwie tiny black loophole in its midst. TBlhsniper makes a careful note of its position. I resonfly, when it begins to show sign# of life, he will pepper it with annou»v piercing bullets, and with luck mav stop its activities for the rest of the day. He turns his attention to the conn 4 trysido behind the German lines. Par l away he can see a string of. men slow- | *y winding their way across the shellstricken fields, but they are too fan away for mm to accelerate their progress. The artillery will probably aea to (them. ' Crack! The unmistakable snap of a Mauser rifle disturbs-his reflections, and ho turhsr.a searching eyo oh fha enemy parapet. There it is! A faint wreath of smoke curling 4np gives him Ins clue, and he mentally registers the spot for further observation. And so the day wears on. Now and’ ogam from far behind the ’artillery, send a few shells screaming overhead, and these' he follows, with’eager interest, for it is good to watch Hike frightened Hun scuttle for coyer, ’ and perhaps to get a lucky shot inf Night draws near,'and he begins to think of writing out his daily report, for all these things .have to bo sub- ■ mibted for the perusal of the powers that be. He is rather disappointed. ..He ha« no definite enemy casualties to report to-day, and he gazes pensively ati tia, low, straggling parapet in front of him. -' (Suddenly he stiffens. A round, dark object is cautiously raising itself above the sandbags. Ho reaches out a swift hand for his rifle and squints through the telescopic sights Yes! It is the soft grey cap of die German soldier. Lovingly his finger curls round the trigger and he waits in perfect stillness. Higher and higher the unconscious man raises himself until his chin is in full view of that grim, silent watcher. Then crack! and the swift, disappearance of the head and the subsequent blowing of the enemy casualty horns denote that the bullet is not wasted. Devoutly and piously the sniper gives thanks to die God of War as he returns, his work for the day done, to his damn sleeping-hole, to snatch a few hours’ sleep ore another dawn bids him resume his vigil.—-By a Sniper, in the “ Daily Mail.”