A Rifleman Went to War

were at that time no text books on the subjects nor any other literature that might have been useful to us, so we had to work out our own system and “technique”.

It was at this time and place that it was first decided to organize a corps of snipers, and orders were issued for each company and detachment to submit the names of two men who were supposed to be well qualified for such work. The order stipulated that all must be “volunteers.” Now, whenever you put that phrase into an order, it is a cinch that all hands will immediately prick up their ears and take notice. Naturally, it implies that the duty is extra hazardous, and it might be supposed that the average soldier would be glad enough to “let George do it,” but the truth is that it works out just the opposite. After a few months of the monotony of routine warfare, nearly every man is anxious to make some sort of a change. The question of the “hazards” never enters his mind, he knows full well that he is liable to get bumped off any minute anyway, no matter what he is doing, so that consideration never enters into the thing. For example — we recruited our machine-gun men from the infantry companies. Now at that time the life of a machine gunner was figured as a very poor insurance risk, in fact, the M.G. outfits were commonly called “suicide clubs.” But just the same, there was always a long waiting list in every company, eager for the chance to get with us.

So it came about that company and section commanders were besieged with applications from men who wanted to be snipers. It must have been a difficult matter for some of them to make their selections, as there were many really “expert” riflemen in every company. So far as my observations went, however, they made good selections, taking men who, in addition to their known shooting ability, had had considerable experience in big game hunting. And that generation of Canadians was very fortunate in this respect.

One in particular — John Paudash — a Chippewa Indian, comes to mind. By birth, inheritance and inclination, he was a hunter. He never would have an observer, preferring to work alone as he made his devious ways along behind the lines, watching for a chance to take a shot. He seldom (perhaps never) had any permanent “nests” but moved about continually. Each evening he would turn in his report, and I for one believed him, which is more than I could say for any other lone sniper.

His brother, George, was a Corporal in our Machine Gun Section and was also selected — together with myself — to represent the Section. Together, we went back to the Sniping School and got our rifles and equipment, but poor George never had much chance to use his. You see, I was a Sergeant and he a Corporal, so I had the edge on him and he stayed with the guns mostly. No doubt he would have done as good or a better job at it than I did, but I just simply could not give up the fun I was having. However, a few months later, when the sniping business was really organized, we both had to turn in our special rifles and telescopes. But we had plenty to do in our own line from that time on.

I mentioned above a “Sniping School.” Well, that was what it was destined to be, but at that time it was in the first stages of formation. There was an improvised range of some two hundred yards and that was about all — but it was enough for us. All we did was to check up the telescope sights against the iron ones, and sight in enough to learn that we had accurate and dependable rifles. We only spent a few hours there, having left the front line that morning and returning soon after dark. As I have said elsewhere, we made our own medicine as we went along, and in the end it appeared to work out very well.

A while back, I spoke about John Paudash — the lone sniper — whom I considered to be the very best man I have known to work alone. In my opinion, the individual sniper does not get very far except for short periods of time — such as at daybreak, or at sundown, or for sniping at very short ranges where cover and shelter is apt to be scarce. For continuous sniping and observation, extending over a period of hours or days, it is much the best for the sniping force to be paired off in teams of two men.

The mental and physical strain of having to be continuously alert for long periods is entirely too much for any one man — and this is particularly true when a large portion of the observing has to be done through a high-power telescope. No one pair of eyes will stand up to the occasion for very long. With two men, the telescope can be taken turn about, and one man can take it easy while the other keeps the enemy under continuous observation. Also, this observation must often be kept up while the rifleman is sighting and waiting to take his shot. Very frequently you take a shot at a head bobbing up and down behind a trench or looking out from some gap in the sandbags, and when looking through the sights you cannot tell whether the target is in the clear or not. Under such circumstances, you “draw a bead,” get the slack out of the trigger, and squeeze off when your observer tells of the head again coming into view.

The situation is exactly the same as that of a pair on some rifle team shooting over the 1000 yard range in a bad wind — or better still, that of a man firing his string with a good coach at the spotting scope. The coach has all the work and worry, while the rifleman merely holds steady and touches off when the coach signals that the wind is right. And furthermore — as is very often the case with the sniping team — the coach (observer) may frequently be the more important of the two men.

No — the lone sniper has a bit too much to contend with at times — particularly the one who wanders about the front lines looking for a favourable target. Not the least of his troubles may be the expostulations of some nervous Sister Annie who insists that no firing be done from that section of trench for fear “they will retaliate.”

The paired teams are much the better for sniping from fixed positions or while on the defensive, and in the Canadian Corps this was the system we started out with. It worked from the start too. With a pair, it is not absolutely necessary that both men be crack shots — the best rifleman can stick to the rifle and keep the other man observing with the glass, only relieving him for brief periods. The great benefit of the pair, to my mind, is that it breaks the monotony of long hours spent away from other troops and gives two kindred spirits the constant opportunity to talk about their common interest — in addition to other topics. Then again, conditions may be such that it is much easier to train observers than to train rifle shots. In my own case, I did all the shooting and kept Bouchard at the glass for most of the time, doing the greatest part of my observing through a pair of binoculars. No, these last were not issued — there are some things which can be gotten in active service without an indent.

Once paired off, and the equipment drawn, it behooves our team to get started at their sniping. The first thing to be done is to make certain that the equipment is all right — particularly that the telescope sight is properly fitted to the rifle and lined up right. The greatest handicap to such sights is the total lack of understanding anything about them which is invariably displayed by the authorities who issue or try to tell you what shall be done with them. The average ordnance officer or sergeant will probably know next to nothing about this equipment, and finally, the men to whom the ’scopes are issued may not have the slightest idea of their use or possibilities. This was one of the great handicaps to the use of rifle telescopes in the British service; they were handed out so many to a battalion and given to men who never before had even seen a telescopic-sighted rifle. Give the average man a rifle so sighted and he looks through the glass, sees how clearly everything is “brought up close” and don’t see how he possibly can miss. Such an individual may shoot for days with a rifle whose ’scope is several feet out of alignment, yet think he is never missing a shot. This last statement is no exaggeration whatever — his bullets may be striking so far from the point of aim as to be outside the field of view of the telescope, and just because every “target” shot at will naturally duck back out of sight our “rifleman” modestly assumes that he is hitting them all.

I mention these things because they were faults which seriously handicapped the sniping game in France in its early stages. Fortunately, in the Canadian Corps we had no such troubles as these, because we had plenty of skilled riflemen who had previously used telescopes and who knew their peculiarities, faults — and virtues. One such man to a division may indeed be priceless at a time like this, and we Canadians had several such to the battalion. Our Ross rifles were promptly sighted in fight with both ’scope and iron sights — and kept that way until turned back into ordnance stores again.

Having checked up on the alignment of the telescope and seen that it is right, tight and proper, it now remains to get hold of some suitable ammunition — and enough of it. Not all the ammunition issued to troops in the field will be suitable for use, in fact, very little of it is likely to come within the requirements of accuracy as demanded by the sniper. I have spoken elsewhere of our troubles along this line, suffice it here to say that if you do locate some accurate ammunition grab on to it — enough to last a long while too. There may be a bit of competition when it comes to “grabbing off” this good ammunition. Amongst my immediate associates in the 21st Battalion were any number of really good riflemen — experienced big game hunters and guides who honestly knew good ammunition from bad. These men always selected their ammunition with the greatest of care, and when we happened to locate a case of some reliable, standard make they would promptly gather around and load up with it, often taking many