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ËÝÌõ Liam O¡ÇFlaherty ¡È The Sniper¡É¡ÖÁÀ·âʼ¡× (No.13)
¡¡The sniper looked at his enemy falling and he shuddered. The lust of battle died in him. He became bitten by remorse. The sweat stood out in beads on his forehead. Weakened by his wound and the long summer day of fasting and watching on the roof, he revolted from the sight of the shattered mass of his dead enemy. His teeth chattered. He began to gibber to himself, cursing the war, cursing himself, cursing everybody.
¡¡He looked at the smoking revolver in his hand and with an oath he hurled it to the roof at his feet. The revolver went off with the concussion, and the bullet whizzed past the sniper¡Çs head. He was frightened back to his senses by the shock. His nerves steadied. The cloud of fear scattered from his mind and he laughed.
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ËÝÌõ Liam O¡ÇFlaherty ¡È The Sniper¡É¡ÖÁÀ·âʼ¡× (No.14)
¡¡Taking the whisky flask from his pocket, he emptied it at a draught. He felt reckless under the influence of the spirits. He decided to leave the roof and look for his company commander to report. Everywhere around was quiet. There was not much danger in going through the streets. He picked up his revolver and put it in his pocket. Then he crawled down through the sky-light to the house underneath.
¡¡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 if he knew him. Perhaps he had been in his own company before the split in the army. He decided to risk going over to have a look at him. He peered around the corner into O¡ÇConnel Street. In the upper part of the street there was heavy firing, but around here all was quiet.
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¡¡The sniper darted across the street. A machine gun tore up the ground around him with a hail of bullets, but he escaped. He threw himself face downwards beside the corps. The machine gun stopped. Then the sniper turned over the body and looked into his brother¡Çs face.
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