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 gladly accepted the invitation to have some lunch in the
mess-room, for the keen air had given both of us healthy appetites,
and while we were doing justice to a well-cooked steak with fried
potatoes and a flask of very excellent _Valtellino_. I had a chat
with some of the younger officers, and learned to my surprise that
they had not stirred from the place since they had come up nearly
three months before, and they had no hope of getting leave for a long
time to come as things were developing and the winter coming along.
A visit from two civilians like ourselves, who could give them some
news of the outside world, was therefore a veritable red-letter day
for them.
Yet, in spite of the monotony of their existence, these cheery
fellows did not complain. There was always plenty to occupy their
minds, they said, and prevent them from brooding over old times. To
defend the Forcola at all hazards was now their sole pre-occupation;
and after all, they added, with an attempt at mirth, they might
easily have been stationed in a still more isolated spot and with
fewer companions. Such admirable equanimity was only what I expected
to find now that I knew the Italian soldier, so it did not surprise
me at all.
After lunch, as the Austrian batteries seemed to be getting busier,
we strolled up to the “observation post,” a sort of tunnel in
which was a telephone installation and an instrument known as a
“goniometre,” a powerful telescope in miniature, combined with a
novel kind of range-finder, through which the slightest movement of
the enemy can be instantly detected and telephoned to the officers in
command of the different gun emplacements. The machine is always in
readiness, as it is so fixed that once it is focussed it requires no
re-adjustment.
There was a small, irregular hole at the end of the tunnel that
faced the enemy’s line, and through this the goniometre pointed. Two
soldiers were on duty, one to keep his eye on the opposite mountain,
the other to manipulate the telephone. It evidently required some
practice to use the telescope, as I had a good look through it and
could scarcely make out anything.
When we visited the post the Italian batteries were not yet replying
to what I was informed were only the usual daily greetings of the
Austrians, but their response would doubtless be sent in due course,
judging from the conversation of the operator with the telephone.
Everything we saw was so absorbingly interesting that we should have
liked to remain on the Forcola many hours more, but time was getting
on by now, and we had to think of getting back.
As may be imagined, after my experience coming up I was particularly
dreading this moment to arrive. I thought it best, however, to say
nothing and trust to luck in getting down without another attack of
vertigo. When we said goodbye to our genial hosts, several soldiers
were about to descend also, so we were to have company.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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