As we got amongst them, Barzini, with true Latin impulsiveness, shook hands effusively with all those around him, and complimented them on their plucky achievement. It was this little touch of human nature that explained to me the secret of his popularity with the soldiers. Word was passed round “Ecco Barzini,” and the men crowded round to get a glimpse of the famous war correspondent. Under cover of the overhanging rocks one was able to observe the curtain of shell-fire in comparative security, though at any moment one of these shells might drop “short” and make mincemeat of us. The Austrians had got the range wonderfully, and every shell burst somewhere along the river which was really good shooting, but their real object was, of course, to endeavour to destroy the bridges and for the moment they were devoting all their attention to the iron one, which was about four hundred yards below where we were standing, and across which a stream of artillery and munition caissons was passing. It was truly astonishing how close they got to it each time, considering they were firing from Monte Santo, nearly four miles away, and a slender iron bridge is not much of a target at that distance. I have never seen such explosions before. They were firing 305mm. shells, and the result was appalling to watch. They might have been mines exploding, the radius of destruction was so enormous. It brought your heart into your mouth each time you heard the approaching wail of a shell, for fear this might be the one to “get home.” You watched the bridge and waited in a state of fascination as it were. Suddenly, as we were gazing with our eyes glued to our field glasses, someone called out in a tone of horror, “they’ve hit it at last.” A shrapnel had burst low down, right in the centre of the bridge, and just above a gun-team that was going along at the trot. For a moment, till the smoke lifted, we thought that men, horses, and guns were blown to pieces; it looked as though nothing could escape, but when it had cleared off we saw that only one of the horses had been killed. In incredibly quick time the dead animal was cut loose and the team continued on its way. There was no sign whatever of undue haste or excitement; it was as though an ordinary review manœuvre was being carried out. The coolness of the drivers was so impressive that I heard several men near me exclaim enthusiastically “Magnifico! magnifico!!” I made up my mind to go later on to the spot and make a careful sketch of the surroundings with the idea of painting a picture of the incident after the war; but I never had an opportunity, as, a few days after, the Austrians succeeded in destroying the bridge. It was very palpable that at any moment one really unlucky shot could hold up the entire line of communications and prevent supplies from coming up for hours.