This unidentified man is the fourth shield bearer assigned to protect ensign Visscher¹². His role is the same as that of Cruijsbergen¹⁵ beside him: to form a moving wall around the vulnerable standard-bearer.

Like Cruijsbergen, he wears an antique 16th century helmet, the kind that by 1642 was more decorative than practical. Behind him, on his right side, we see the decorated upper rim of his shield, partly hidden behind Cruijsbergens larger rondache.
He carries it behind his back, which tells us that he is not in motion. His gaze is directed upward. If we follow that line of sight toward the left wall, we arrive at a cluster of pikes leaning against the building.
A dozen or so are visible, some placed rather carelessly.
Rembrandt may have included them to suggest the presence of many more pikemen outside the frame, and to show that this shield bearer is keeping watch over the ensign he is required to protect. His upward glance is not dramatic, but it is attentive.

In Gerrit Lundens copy of The Night Watch from 1649, this same man appears with a small but intriguing difference. He has no leather helmet band, but he has gained an ear.
Did Lundens make an error, or a conscious adjustment? With the exception of Sergeant Engelen⁰¹, every other helmet in the painting has such a protective band.
Historians generally agree that Lundens did not intentionally alter Rembrandts design. Commissioned by Banninck Cocq¹⁶, he made his copy directly from the four-meter-high original in the Kloveniersdoelen, a room that was already poorly lit.
The higher up in the painting he had to look, the more difficult his perspective became, and the less precise his rendering.

This makes the comparison between the two works unexpectedly rewarding. Lundens copy has survived in near-perfect condition for almost four centuries. Rembrandts original, by contrast, endured fireplace smoke, tobacco fumes, humidity, mold, curious hands, and several well-intended but not always expert restorations.

This unknown shield bearer, with his antique helmet and upward glance, becomes a small but telling example of how two versions of the same scene can diverge, and how much the painting has lived through since it first hung in the Kloveniersdoelen.