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His face was the face of a student, thin and ascetic, but his eyes had the cold gleam of the fanatic. They were deep and thoughtful, the eyes of a man who is used to looking at death.
He was eating a sandwich hungrily. He had eaten nothing since morning. He had been too excited to eat.
The story is full of contrasts and contradictions that reflect the nature of a nation divided. The Irish Civil War divides soldier from soldier, brother from brother, and even self from self. The Republican sniper, as he hides on the rooftop, is a lone warrior whose only aim is to kill and not be killed. But the narrator suggests that the sniper is at war with himself, although he may not know it yet. He has the eyes of a fanatic, but the face of a student. He feels the excitement of combat, yet by describing him as “ascetic,” the narrator suggests that the sniper is disciplined in self-denial. He is young, yet his eyes suggest a depth of maturity.
These contrasts and contradictions show a young man who has his whole life ahead of him, yet for the moment that life is fixated on survival. The tension of the coming combat so overwhelms him, in fact, that he cannot even eat—an action necessary for survival and physical health—all day. As he waits for an opportune moment to kill his enemy and thus ensure his own survival, he remembers to eat, gobbling a sandwich. The casual juxtaposition of grabbing a quick snack, a sip of whiskey, and a smoke while waiting to kill begins the story with a striking and unnerving contrast.
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.
During most of the story’s action, the Republican sniper’s state of mind is that of a dedicated soldier. He pragmatically kills those who threaten his life and his faction’s goals. Inured to combat, he takes advantage of a quiet moment to eat and drink. He takes a calculated risk to smoke a cigarette and quickly corrects the calculation when the tiny light exposes his position. He does not flinch before killing an old woman who is an informant. Even while injured and bleeding, he thinks shrewdly enough to trick and kill his enemy.
However, after killing the enemy sniper, the Republican sniper’s mindset suddenly shifts. The excitement of battle deserts him, and he feels regret. The tedium of hunger and of hours lying in wait asserts itself mercilessly. Until the moment that he sees his enemy fall, he has repressed any internal conflict he may be feeling. But as remorse and his own weakened physical condition combine to overwhelm his sense of duty, he suffers a physical collapse that suggests a clash of contradictory impulses. He curses the war and everything associated with it.
