The Sniper

“[The sniper’s eyes] were deep and thoughtful, the eyes of a man who is used to looking at death.”

This quote expresses the sniper’s experience with war. O’Flaherty characterizes his protagonist briefly, but makes it clear that the sniper has been hardened by battle. Though the reader may assume that the sniper has killed many, he is far from brutish; rather, he is thoughtful, suggesting that the deaths he has witnessed or caused have affected him deeply.

“He paused for a moment, considering whether he should risk a smoke. It was dangerous. The flash might be seen in the darkness, and there were enemies watching. He decided to take the risk.”

The sniper must weigh the risk and benefit of his actions. Even lighting a cigarette poses serious risk. It turns out that the sniper’s decision is in fact dangerous; after he lights the cigarette, the enemy shoots in his direction.

“There was nothing to be seen—just the dim outline of the opposite housetop against the blue sky. His enemy was under cover.”

After he is shot at, the sniper makes observations and peeks over the parapet; the war-ravaged landscape sits in darkness. The sniper realizes that his enemy is another sniper and thus not so different from himself. This lack of difference foreshadows the enemy’s real identity.

“An old woman with a tattered shawl around her head comes out of a side street to talk with a man in the turret of the armored car. The sniper wants to shoot at the armored car, but he knows that his bullets will not penetrate its fortified exterior. The old woman points in the direction of the sniper, who now realizes that she is an informer.”

Identities have been shifted within this war-torn landscape. An elderly woman wearing tattered clothing would normally represent an entirely nonthreatening persona; however, the sniper soon realizes that this woman represents a significant threat to his life.

“The turret opened. A man’s head and shoulders appeared, looking toward the sniper. The sniper raised his rifle and fired. The head fell heavily on the turret wall.”

O’Flaherty’s description of death does not treat the individual as a human being, but instead as an assembly of body parts. The protagonist, via O’Flaherty’s narration, does not seem to appreciate the life he has just taken but instead notices the heft of the head as though it were an inanimate object.

“Quickly he drew his knife from his pocket, opened it on the breastwork of the parapet, and ripped open the sleeve. There was a small hole where the bullet had entered. On the other side there was no hole. The bullet had lodged in the bone. It must have fractured it. He bent the arm below the wound. the arm bent back easily. He ground his teeth to overcome the pain.”

After the sniper has been hit, he notices that he cannot feel his forearm. He does not respond emotionally but focuses on dressing his wound promptly. These lines demonstrate how dispassionate, even mechanical, one must be in war.

“Morning must not find him wounded on the roof. The enemy on the opposite roof covered his escape. He must kill that enemy and he could not use his rifle. He had only a revolver to do it. Then he thought of a plan.”

The sniper demonstrates his commitment to self-preservation. Though wounded, he plans his escape. His quickness and clear thinking demonstrates his experience with war.

“The sniper slanted the rifle forward. The cap clipped down into the street. Then catching the rifle in the middle, the sniper dropped his left hand over the roof and let it hang, lifelessly. After a few moments he let the rifle drop to the street. Then he sank to the roof, dragging his hand with him.”

The sniper executes his ruse: O’Flaherty shows, rather than explains, the sniper’s actions. This absence of emotional interiority contributes to the feeling of isolation in the story.

“The other sniper, seeing the cap and rifle fall, thought that he had killed his man. He was now standing before a row of chimney pots, looking across, with his head clearly silhouetted against the western sky.”

The protagonist’s trick succeeds. The unrecognizability of the enemy sniper results in his death at the hands of his own brother.

“Then when the smoke cleared, he peered across and uttered a cry of joy. His enemy had been hit. He was reeling over the parapet in his death agony.”

The protagonist is so hardened by the war that he experiences joy at having killed another human. O’Flaherty juxtaposes “joy” with “death agony” to elicit disgust, and to exhibit the extent to which war can corrupt soldiers.

“The sniper looked at his enemy falling and he shuddered. The lust of battle died in him. He became bitten by remorse.”

The protagonist transforms. Despite having exulted in his victim’s death, he almost immediately regrets the kill. The protagonist does not yet know that the enemy sniper is his brother. The fact that his remorse precedes this knowledge redeems and humanizes him.

“His teeth chattered, he began to gibber to himself, cursing the war, cursing himself, cursing everybody.”

The protagonist feels regret. He has been driven mad by the war. His spirit is broken, and his cursing and gibbering imply that he has been victimized to the extent of insanity.

“When the sniper reached the laneway on the street level, he felt a sudden curiosity as to the identity of the enemy sniper whom he had killed. He decided that he was a good shot, whoever he was. He wondered did he know him. Perhaps he had been in his own company before the split in the army.”

The sniper wants to know his enemy. There is the notion that a worthy enemy—such as the enemy sniper—makes a victory more valiant. These lines foreshadow that the protagonist knows the individual; in fact, they are brothers.