I have never heard a good word for that Warner & Swasey telescopic sight, but I am going to put in one, right now. Having had considerable experience with all the various “breeds” that had been turned out up to that time, including the Winchester 5-A, I found that this same W. & S. was as dependable as any of them and a whole lot better than most. I had to tinker up the mounting a bit to keep it from jarring loose; on my particular rifle I rusted all the screws in and spiked them with a center punch, then by ramming a thin wedge or “shim” (made from a safety razor blade) in between the sight base and its holding lug, I finally got it on so tightly I could not get it off. This “anchored” it properly and the sight thereafter worked all right. We all know that the ’scope sights of that date were crude as compared with the later types, but I do not believe that any better one had been constructed then unless it was some that the Germans were using. They had some good ones, make no mistake about that. The Winchester 5-A was about the best one available in the United States then, and anyone who had much experience with them up to and including 1918 can testify that they could and did “act up” something scandalous at times.
If the light was right, I would use the ’scope sight; if not, the iron ones. The service sights on the Ross rifle were so good that, by using the large aperture, one could see plenty of the territory in the vicinity of the target – a very important point, as the “targets” in such cases were usually nothing more than small round caps – about the size of a small dinner plate and always of some indistinct, neutral color. The telescope sight is not always better than the iron ones, as everyone knows. Never as good in a fog, and sometimes even on bright days when there is a heavy mirage. The ’scope exaggerates everything, including the ground haze and the distortion of the target by the mirage. Those of you who have fired over the 1000 yard range at Camp Perry know how hazy and “wavy” that big bull’s-eye can get in a bad “boil,” yet that bull is some ten feet above the surface of the ground. Think how much worse it can be when your target is right on the ground and of a color which blends in with it. Everything is so distorted that it is impossible to define your target from its surroundings, and under such conditions your iron sights are much better than the telescope. But in the average light, and especially early on some mornings and late in the evenings the telescope is all to the good.
That is one thing I have been harping on, ever since the war: this matter of sights. Most of my criticism has been directed at the Springfield. I cannot, for the life of me, understand why, in a country that has developed some of the finest types of aperture sights for use on sporting rifles, we cannot have an equally good one on the military rifle. I wouldn’t care if they put on nothing but a “battle sight” – built right into the top of the receiver bridge – so long as it had a big hole in it and was close to the eye. That, with a reasonably broad front sight would be perfectly satisfactory for battle use. For accurate shooting at ranges beyond about three hundred yards, of course the sight should be adjustable for both elevation and windage but, aside from the sniper, the soldier seldom sees an enemy at anything beyond what might be termed “hunting” range and our deer hunters well know what that is.
The Germans always had much better constructed trenches than we had. The Canadian soldier hated anything like ordinary manual labor and would put up with a lot of discomfort rather than put in a few hours with a shovel. Consequently, we had but few decent sniping positions in the front line while the enemy had many very ingeniously constructed loop-holes through which to fire. They nearly always made use of some one of the numerous and miscellaneous articles which always decorated the front of his parapet – put there, I always believed, for just that purpose.
There would be old boots, tin cans of all shapes and sizes, pieces of cast-off clothing, old knapsacks and bits of board – anything and everything that would serve to break up the flat expanse of the embankment and the sniping holes were usually concealed in one or the other of these objects which, while appearing from our side to have been just thrown there, was really securely anchored to the front of a well-constructed loop-hole. On my trips to his parapet, at night, I have been able to locate several such places and have also detected them with the telescope, from our observation posts and sniping positions. One such loop-hole, I remember was in the sole of an old boot and at least two were through large tin cans.
Such positions however, where the lines are so close together, offer but a limited field of fire – limited, in fact, to the space between the trenches and, of course, the top of our parapet. Of course, it made our men keep their heads down below the top or – well, a few of them tried to find out – and did. It was one sure way of committing suicide.
We fixed up a couple of such places and used them now and then but not often. It was fun to take a shot at the loop-hole of a machine-gun emplacement or observation post just to hear the bullet hit the steel plate – to ring the bell – but there was but little profit in it and I preferred to shoot from the positions in the rear, from which we could actually see our targets and, sometimes, see ’em fall.
Now, for a change let’s talk about another most important phase of the sniper’s work – counter sniping, or abating the enemy snipers. A most essential part of this operation is to first locate that enemy sniper before you abate him, and there are times when this is a considerable job just in itself. In the first place, the sniper may have been at work for several days, and have downed quite a few of your men before the troops in that section realize they are up against a good sniper. Mebbyso I better explain about this, so you catchem-savvey.
It is an odd fact, and one hardly understandable to the average civilian, but after the first few days, soldiers in the trenches pay very little attention to bullets flying around. Bullets are mostly always flying around anyhow – stray shots coming in from God knows where, long range fire from machine guns, fixed rifles set off now and then, floaters and odd shots let off by dubs all along the enemy trenches and loop-holes. All these come in under the general term of “strays” and you are continually losing a man here and there from them. Also, during the daytime, when there is nothing being pulled off as a rule, the men remain in the dugouts and sleep, leaving sentries at intervals along the trench with what few men who must be up and about on one detail or another. The result is that when an odd man does get hit, no one is about or looking to see him go down, and it may be a long time before somebody comes down that particular section of trench and finds him lying there. When found, the verdict is pretty apt to be “hit with a stray bullet.” Then, when another man or so is shot down at that same spot, the outfit wakes up to the fact that a sniper is covering that place and they commence to get to work on him.
The busiest hour of the sniper is at daybreak. At this time the trenches are crowded; morning stand-to is just over with and all the various machine-gun and trench-mortar crews and specialists of one sort or another are busy taking in their guns, ration details are coming up with breakfast, men going to the latrines, observation and staff officers going back to make their reports, and so forth. And I must confess that as a rule the Germans had the edge on us at this time, owing to the light being entirely in their favor at daybreak. On clear mornings we could do very little until the sun had lifted its glare out of our eyes; it was just like drawing one of the early relays at Sea Girt. But at evening, the shoe was on the other foot; we had the light in our favor, and very much so, as a rule. On dull or rainy days conditions were about even.
Having determined for a fact that a sniper is located out in front and working on some particular part of our trench, it now remains to find out just where his sniping post is located. You do this by exceeding close observation, plus a bit of “baiting” him into shooting a few more times.
After getting a general idea as to where the bullets are coming from you offer him a target to shoot at, and, by watching for the striking angle of his bullets, trace them back to their source. By showing a target at various places along the trench top
it may be possible to utilize two such points as the base of a triangle and locate him at its apex. This is the approved “book” method, but I must confess that we seldom used it, we generally stuck to one place and kept a close observation back along the bullet’s path until we had located our man.
As a matter of actual fact, when it comes to close range sniping, the sniper is pretty apt to be very much restricted as to the “arc of fire” over which he can deliver his shots. Invariably his sniping nest will be arranged so that its loophole covers only a very limited area, and it is down this area only that he can fire. They generally build a very small hole, crawl inside, and then pull the hole in after them. Once in position they “stay put” and cannot move about enough to take shots offered off to their flank or from some other position, but can cover only a certain limited section to their front. Hence, the well known story-book method of triangulation does not always work out so well in actual practice. Instead, you generally locate your man by hours, and often days, of close observation from one spot.
At the longer ranges it is all different, and in these cases the situation is similar to that in our own main post at Sniper’s Barn. Here you arrange a large and comfortable place from which fire can be delivered over a considerable section of enemy front, with room for two or more men to work in and everything quite convenient. These places are either built into the front trench system, or better still are arranged a couple of hundred yards behind the trench and on higher ground. When you locate such a nest, don’t bother trying to determine its loop-holes or shoot into them, just call the F.O.O. and have him flatten it out for you with his guns.
The experienced rifleman has a number of factors to aid him in this work of locating the other fellow. The first is undoubtedly the sound of the sniper’s rifle; on a quiet day when there is not much doing, two or three hours may pass without a rifle’s being fired; then an occasional shot is pretty easy to trace. The strike of the bullet along the parapet or such other place as it may hit, tells a great deal. Even the sound of the bullet as it snaps past overhead may tell you whether the man is shooting from close range or is back in rear of the enemy trenches.
If observation determines that our friend is shooting from some loophole in the opposite trench, there is not much that can be done but to call on the artillery to “level off” that particular spot. Those loop-holes are petty apt to be fixed up with steel plates in such a manner that a bullet cannot enter, so it is no use trying shooting at them unless you just want to “ring the bell.” But a great deal of enemy sniping will be carried out from positions in front of their trench line, or from locations hidden out in the open, and against these one rifle is as good as another.
I remember an incident which occurred early one cool, foggy morning; there was no dense fog up in the air, but a blanket of light “mist” lay against the ground and was drifting and streaking slowly about. We had been bothered a lot by a sniper who was working in front of that particular bit of trench, and I had gotten down there early that morning to try and locate him. A careful search of the opposite trench lines and likely places with the big telescope did not disclose anything to me, and I had turned it over to my partner for a look-see and had just taken my binoculars to look again at the same time. I was sweeping the ground in front of the German trenches when that sniper fired another shot – it happened that I had those binocks on his position at the time and I clearly saw the fog blow and swirl about in front of his rifle muzzle. Five minutes later we took the nest apart with bursts from two machine guns, and heard no more from that Heinie.
On one other occasion I was sweeping the open ground between the trenches with that same pair of binoculars. There had been a particularly bad sniper operating from the vicinity, and we had it figured out that he was located somewheres up in the German trench system. There were the remains of an old stone retaining wall just in front of their trenches, and it had been blown over and leveled off somewhat into the surrounding ground. After several hours observation and search of the trench works and upper parts of this stone pile, I happened to be looking at the foot of the stone rubbish when the sniper cut loose at something and I easily saw the swirl of sand and dirt blown up by the muzzle blast of his rifle. It picked up a handful of that dirt and whirled it about like some miniature cyclone. A few more seconds observation with the big glass and we had that chap definitely located and one shot from a rifle at a range of about one hundred and fifty yards finished him for good. Strange to say, after he had dropped down into his nest, we could all clearly see the large, dark hole from which he had been firing; he must have had some nifty arrangement of closing it up or hiding it when he was not in position to shoot. Or possibly he was one of those “turnip top” robed snipers who dressed up to resemble their surroundings – if so he was certainly good at it.
Very often, this trick of locating an enemy sniper turns out to be quite a hard job, and cannot be done from where one “baits” the chap into firing at a dummy target. Occasionally, you must string up a field telephone from the front trench to the rear and have an observer or two get well in back of the line or off at an angle where higher ground gives better observation, not only of the point where you assume the shots to be coming from, but where you may also get an idea of the bullet’s line of flight when it hits – or misses. (This is one match where a miss is worth as much to you as a bull, possibly more.) Many times it is an impossibility for the men in the trench, or hidden in from where the target is being offered and manipulated, to see anything at all; they must keep their heads down continually or be shot. Hence it may take an entire squad of men, and much time before one even learns where the shots are coming from.
Along towards the latter part of my experience in France we received some very elaborate and life-like hollow manikins, made of papier-maché or some such material, to be used for sticking up over the parapet in decoying enemy snipers to give away their location. At the time all this struck me as being very funny, just some more junk issued to make the poor soldier’s life miserable, and to be lugged in and out of the trenches. The trouble with all that’ sort of stuff is that when the time and occasion arises to use the trick, the manikin is somewhere else – miles to the rear probably. It all works out very nicely at the sniping school or training camp – adds interest and looks very practical – but just don’t always pan out anywhere else.
At this time I might mention that now and then you’ll run into a pretty smart sniper whom you cannot fool with these decoys, helmet-on-a-stick, or such tricks. Some are like preachers I have known – they will only bite on live bait. The Germans had such men, and in particular I remember one Dutchman who worked his way up within a hundred yards or so of our front line and fired from there for several days. This chap was so close that he could tell a real target from a decoy and was located so that observation was impossible without a periscope. He could readily tell periscopes, or any thing else for that matter, and even when we stuck up a large and elaborate trench periscope he never shot at it, but passed up the chance for a real one. That Heinie showed sense, he was not going to give away his position for a lot of fool rifle practice. I don’t remember that we ever did locate that chap at all, not while I was around anyhow. Possibly one of those lifesize “dummies” would have worked on him; I don’t know.
Chapter 17. The Rifleman in Battle
SO FAR, we have dealt almost exclusively with the business of sniping from a fixed position in siege or trench warfare. There is another phase of the sniper’s work which differs in a vast degree from this sort of sniping, and that is during a battle when his force is in the open and advancing or retreating.
Then he has no opportunity or time to construct anything in the way of hiding places, but must make use of whatever natural cover he can find. In a withering, sweeping barrage, where it is imperative that the line continue the advance, he takes his chances with all the rest. He may be and often is, cut down before he has had a chance to fire a shot. During this first stage of th
e attack he is “just another soldier.”
But, if he survives long enough to come into contact with the enemy, when the resistance stiffens and our line begins to break up under the fire of hidden machine guns, then he may have a chance to show just how good he really is. His job, and it is a big one, is to work his way into such positions that he can see and fire on individual enemies – not to cower in the most convenient shell hole. If it is a machine gun that is doing the dirty work, it is up to him to endeavor to work around into a position from which he can cut the gunners down with enfilading fire. Difficult – nay, impossible as this may seem, it has been done so often that it became almost commonplace. You have all heard of Sergeants Woodfill and York. Now I’ll tell you of another one – Captain MacCrimmon of the 21st Battalion. He was a sergeant when I was one and rose to the command of B Company. At the Battle of Arras, having gained his objective, he found his position enfiladed by a battery of three field guns, so, taking a rifle and calling for a sergeant to go with him (I am sorry I do not recall that sergeant’s name) he proceeded to abate those guns. The two of them then rushed the position, shot some more of the gunners and then stood, back to back, holding off the rest of the enemy until his men came up. Then, he calmly took a piece of chalk from his pocket and marked the guns “Captured by B Company.” He had done many such stunts before, both as an officer and as an enlisted man.
No, impossible though it may seem, it is possible for a cool, resourceful man to circumvent and actually destroy a large number of the enemy.
But, leaving aside these brilliant exploits, the rifleman in battle has his own work cut out for him. It is not easy; not by a long shot. Nothing is easy when a man is stumbling and crawling and creeping through an inferno of flying, howling and shrieking missiles: through dust or mud, straining every muscle to move at all – probably wearing a gas mask which will fog up and sweat, in spite of all the dope that can be put on it. No, no, it is not easy.
A Rifleman Went to War Page 33