Six months on the Italian frontPrice, Julius M. (Julius Mendes)
History
Six months on the Italian front
Price, Julius M. (Julius Mendes)
World War, 1914-1918 -- Campaigns -- Italo-Austrian; World War, 1914-1918 -- Personal narratives
We walked away slowly through the deepening gloom. There was not a
light to be seen anywhere. Now and again the loud report of a big gun
awakened the echoes of the empty streets.
My companions were much upset at the reception we had received,
and were discussing the matter at great length as we went along;
meanwhile I was gradually feeling very hungry and tired and heartily
sick of this aimless wandering along in the obscurity.
Suddenly they came to a decision, and announced to me that we were
going to spend the night in Gorizia, as it would be a pity to return
to Udine and perhaps just miss something important, as there was no
doubt, they explained to me, there was something _en l’air_.
Of course I had no opinion to offer in the matter as I understood so
little Italian, so there was nothing for it but to fall in with their
views. Moreover, there was no possibility of my getting away without
them since the car was theirs.
It having, therefore, been decided to remain in Gorizia, the next
important question was where to put up for the night.
There was, as I have said, not a light to be seen anywhere; not a
soul was about, the soldiers having long since returned to their
quarters. The two cafés were closed, and we were prowling along in
the dark like a lot of tramps in a city of the dead.
Had I been able to join in the conversation of my companions I might
perhaps have found the adventure amusing, but as it was, from my
point of view, it was deadly dull and uninteresting; however, I tried
to buck myself up with the idea that something exciting might happen
later, and so it did, as will be seen.
Our car, it appeared, had been left in the entrance of an hotel
opposite the theatre, so we made our way there to make sure it was
safe. The hotel we found was not locked up, although it was quite
deserted. On a table in the vestibule we, fortunately, discovered a
piece of candle, and, lighting it, we started to explore the place to
see if there was a chance of fixing ourselves up for the night in any
of the rooms.
It was a curious experience, and one that I shall long remember. The
hotel was quite a large one, and to our astonishment all the rooms
were in perfect order, with beds made, water in the jugs and bottles,
and soap, towels, everything in fact in readiness for visitors. We
could have wished for nothing better, except, perhaps, to have found
a whole candle instead of a piece of one; for the idea of being left
in the dark in a short time rather nullified the comfort by which we
were surrounded.
There were so many rooms to choose from that we were inclined to be
fastidious; it is not often that one has the run of a whole hotel,
and gratis at that; however, we settled on two, with a sitting room
in between and with two beds in each.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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