There was also a real “curio” which I much coveted, but which was too heavy to take as a souvenir, in the shape of a small brass cannon mounted on wheels. What this miniature ordnance-piece was used for I could not make out, as I had never seen one before. All this booty, of course, only represented what the Austrians had abandoned near here. The amount of rifle ammunition captured must have been enormous. General Marazzi, with several of his staff officers, were using the entrance of the arch as a temporary orderly room, with table and armchairs. Though he was, of course, much occupied, he courteously gave us any information we wanted. He even went further by presenting us with an Austrian rifle apiece as souvenirs of the victory. The roadway from here passed along the foot of Podgora, the ridge of sinister memories. Every yard of the ground here had been deluged with blood, and had witnessed some of the most desperate fighting in the war. It had once been thickly wooded but now nought remains of the trees on its hog-back and slopes but jagged and charred stumps. There was not a trace of vegetation, and one could see that the surface had been literally ground to powder by high explosives. Shells were still bursting over it, but they appeared to raise dust rather than soil, so friable had it become. In the long, straggling and partially destroyed village of Grafenberg through which we now wandered, there were some Italian soldiers, but so few that one might have wondered why they had been left there at all. A tell-tale odour on all sides conveyed in all probability one of the reasons. The dead were lying about everywhere and in all sorts of odd places, in the gutters alongside the road, just inside garden gates, anywhere they had happened to fall. There was a ghastly object seated in quite a life-like position in a doorway, with a supply of hand-grenades by its side. Grafenberg was distinctly not a place to linger in. Meanwhile we were walking parallel with the Isonzo, which was only a hundred yards or so away; and the Austrians, though in full rout, were keeping up a terrific flanking fire with their heavy artillery, placed on Monte Santo and Monte San Gabriele with the idea undoubtedly of destroying the bridges. Two were already wrecked beyond immediate repair, one of the arches of the magnificent railway viaduct had been blown up, and the long wooden structure just above Grafenberg had been rendered useless for the moment. There were two others still intact: an iron bridge the artillery and cavalry were crossing by and a small foot-bridge we were making for. To demolish these, and so further delay the Italian advance, was now the object of the Austrians. To effect this they were sending over projectiles of the biggest calibre. The terrifying noise of the explosion of these enormous shells would have sufficed to demoralise most troops.