Took me up to The Hook that one afternoon and
I reported to the platoon commander that
was there to tell him I was on location.
They gave me the topographical maps and
I asked a few questions about what activities,
what areas should I look for, enemy activity this
type of thing. And I had to find what we generally
call the hide, some place where I could hide myself.
And the chances of taking extremely long
rifle shots did not really exist because
it was somewhat like the
First World War, establish lines.
We lived in trenches as the enemy did
only about 400 yards apart.
That’s like next to nothing.
The shooting I did, I’d set my sights
on a field elevation of 400 yards.
In any case there was a
blown out observation post we had and
it was completely destroyed.
I crawled under what was left of it and
there was a little slit so if I kept my
rifle muzzle in there so that the blast
wouldn’t be seen by the enemy,
they couldn’t even detect where the
sound came from because I put plugs
in my ears, of course. I remember it was
toilet tissue rolled up in a ball.
That’s where I did my shooting from.
My very first day about three o’clock that
afternoon a fellow climbed out of a Chinese
trench in broad daylight. He climbed out of the
trench and starts walking out to the end of this
point that he was on. He was obviously going
out to set himself up for the evening.
It was winter and 3 o’clock it was starting
to get dark. By 4 o’clock it’s dark.
So he was moving out and they were so
bloody brazen. There had been no anti-counter
sniper activity at all. And in broad daylight
this bloody fool walked out,
well I shot and killed him.
His body fell down into the front of our position.
The reason I guess that I am telling you all
this is that there’s a human side to all of
these things. People can imagine of course.
But very briefly. This is not meant boastful,
I hope it’s not thought of that way.
But that night they did a search for intelligence
purposes on that Chinese body and he had
an American snooper scope, an infrared
scope mounted on an
American .30 caliber carbon rifle. The night
before this our own patrols coming in through
the wire to come back up onto our position.
They had finished whatever they were
going to do out there in “No Man’s Land”
the last fellow in the group was a corporal.
Corporal Gill was his name. He was shot
right through the head as they were coming
in through our own wire. Some sniper but
obviously with night equipment had shot
and killed Corporal Gill.
Corporal Gill had been the batman to the
colonel for a couple of years
in Kingston, or excuse me,
Cornwall and then Petawawa.
And when the unit went into the field the
officers had to give up their valets or
batman and in this case Corporal Gill
became a section leader within
one of the rifle companies.
And he was killed as such. But he was
almost like a son to the colonel.
The very next day a runner
came up to find me unofficially, of course,
with a brand new unused sandbag and
in there was a bottle of single malt scotch
from the colonel’s private collection.
And a verbal, no written, of course,
verbal instructions were Zuber, find a cave
and hide yourself for a couple of days.
In other words, go away and get drunk.
Well, in actual fact what happened the bottle
lasted about an hour and a half in that
little tunnel. I was a hero for about an hour.
Anyway, when they did the search on that
Chinese sniper, they found Corporal Gill’s
dog tags on him. That was his trophy.
And in the war diary, every unit keeps a
diary on a day to day basis,
and the regimental war diary which has
since been released from the secret list,
of course years ago, it mentions that
Zuber evened the score today.