Unusual Passengers
James (or Jammie) the Sniper.
This was a cheerful character that I picked up
early on a Saturday morning to take to the Community Centre for the day away
from his long suffering wife. He opened
his front door clutching the top of his trousers saying to me; ‘can you fasten
up my belt for me, my missus can’t do it, arthritis’. ‘Sure’ I said, ‘stand still’. Minutes later we were in the car heading over
to the Community Centre and he started telling me about his Army days, I must
admit that I love listening to old Army stories. ‘I was a sniper’ he said, I looked at him and
replied that I had never met a sniper before; ‘yes in the Second World War, I
didn’t want to be, but they made me.’
‘Did you shoot anybody?’ I asked. ‘Yes’ he said; ‘I was pretty ruthless, I’ve
shot quite a few Germans. I’m
ninety-one’ he said. I really thought he
was about seventy six, but that meant that he was around nineteen to early
twenties during WW2. He went on to tell
me that he was in the D. Day Landings in Normandy, and that he and his platoon
attacked a machine gun position, capturing it from the Gunners, and then
turning the gun onto the German lines killing many soldiers. ‘Did you get injured
in the war then?’ I asked. ‘Oh yes’ he replied;
‘I got shot in the foot, crossing a river on France, in a small boat, I fell out
of it and got washed down the river, it was a bit hairy, but I got through it alright.’
Although
he was a bit unsteady on his feet, there was nothing wrong with his memory. He could sing all the old war songs; no problem
about that. I looked at this frail old man
sat in the car at the side of me who didn’t look like he would say boo to a mouse
and wondered about how different his early life in those way years had been to mine.
He must have seen some weird and wonderful
sights.
