e
hardly settled down when a sniper opened up on us from the rear, taking
a chip out of the wheel to my right. Ping! Ping! Ping! and the tree
standing ten feet in our rear was nipped. Ping! Ping! and the shield of
the gun got it this time. We were concealed behind the gun shield, which
protected us pretty thoroughly from the front fire and were
congratulating ourselves on our haven of safety when Ping! Ping! again
from our rear came the messages from a sniper hidden there. In glancing
back over my shoulder I noticed in the pitchy blackness the flash of a
rifle simultaneously with the report, and it seemed to come from a
haystack about 200 yards to our right.

"Blais, look back for a minute and tell me what you see."

Black darkness again for a few minutes, then another flare; we both
watched intently.

"By God!" exclaimed Blaisdell simultaneously with another report. "Right
out of the stack!" There was nothing for us to do but to lie there and
watch, and we absolutely confirmed our convictions that we were being
sniped at from this particular haystack.

When our watch was up I made my way to the ruin occupied by our relief,
woke them and told them to keep their eyes open for the haystack and
make themselves as small as midgets. Shortly after they started,
Blaisdell came in. He told me that the relief party had been sniped at
every step of the way to the gun. As Blaisdell entered, the open door
threw out a fitful glare of light from our flickering candle, and a
report from this particular haystack was followed by a bullet that
knocked off a chip of brick just above the doorway. Our friend was
certainly industrious, but I hoped to go him one better in the morning.
I grabbed the phone and called up headquarters, informing them of what I
had seen from the stock. The O.C. said the matter would be looked into
immediately.

There was no sleeping that night; we were too excited and chattered away
like school girls over our experiences, and to pass the time the
inevitable card game started. During the game the sniping was active and
continuous, the bullets chipping the building in all quarters. Our light
was from a candle jammed into a jam tin and set between a couple of sand
bags that we used for a table. Our mate, who had not yet taken his turn
on the gun-watch, was inclined to be rather skeptical about our story
of the sniper, declaring it couldn't be possible that Fritzie could be
carrying on such work in the very mids