The sentimental sniper.

War is hell!

My position had been carefully chosen after hours of painstaking selection. From here I couldn’t be seen. My camouflage was perfect.
My face was blackened and streaked with green and with a handful of the soft dirt that surrounded my position.
My long-range snipers rifle was similarly blackened and wrapped with the same grass in which I lay comfortably concealed.
I blended naturally into the thick grass on the crest of a hill that afforded me a wide vista of the terrain that lay before me.

Here I had lain for hours in No Man’s Land; that area between the two advancing armies.
I idly wondered how many lives would be lost over the battle for this worthless piece of scrub-land.
Land on which shepherds had grazed their flocks for centuries, now a prized possession to both countries.
How many sons would never be returning home to their families after this skirmish?
How many wives and children would be without a husband and father, alone and lost, left to struggle for their very existence.

I shook my head to clear these unwelcome visions.
I’d a job to do, and I had to do it well.
There could be no time allocated for maudlin thoughts to cloud my judgement which was just as well, because I’d just sighted the first of the advancing scouts.
He moved quickly and deftly, using every inch of cover he could find.
My orders were to let the first three pass unharmed.
My colleague, suitably concealed about two-hundred metres behind me, would take care of them. I was to take the next three out. A proficient sniper should be able to kill three targets before being detected.

Lying stock-still I watched the first three pass close to me.
They looked so young. The sweat was running down their faces, and they were being driven by fear.
They were scared! They had been well trained, but the fear in their eyes showed that they were novices in this war game.

The next group appeared in my sights and I had a good field of fire.
Now I’d only to hear the crack of my colleagues rifle to commence my own onslaught.

Yes, war was hell when you allowed your sensitive side to struggle to the surface.
Will it ever end?


Mr. Kitosdad,

I can’t catch the phrase.

to cloud my judgement: to relax attantion
just as well: Your flat is so dirty, you can live in a dustbin just as well.
The judgemment was a bit cloudy yet, wasn’t it?


Good morning my little friend.

“There could be no time allocated for maudlin thoughts to cloud my judgement.”

This sentence was supposed to portray that fact that a sniper is a cold-blooded killer.
There is no room in his heart for compassion for his fellow man. His job is to do exactly as he is ordered; to kill the enemy, male or female, young or old. He cannot allow sentiment to divert his train of thought. It is kill, kill, kill.

Any clearer now?

War is hell!
Written by Kito’s daddy.
Narrated by EvilDwarf
on Sunday the 28th. of August in 2010

please explain:
I idly wondered…

Well done mister!

scrub-land. Land with only sparse or little growth.
idly wondered. To have random thoughts about the subject

The written message cropped up before the voice message.

Look ahead, don’t ignore me! I know a huge hulk from the Highlands.

And I know a big, muscular girl in Hamburg. :slight_smile:

Once a muscly woman from Hamburg,
married a Scottish hulk named Dirk;
Now when seing their wedding photo,
nobody really don’t know;
who is Dirk,
and who is the muscly woman from Hamburg, hi hi hi.

Hang on a second, I’ve got to get this call.
By the way, do you know something about ‘get’?

Please listen to my recording and respond with a voice message too. Many thanks.