It was quite remarkable considering this how little there was in the shape of incident to record, or for the matter of that, to sketch either. Everything appeared to be so perfectly organized that it worked like a big well-oiled machine. It reminded me not a little of a road in China with its endless stream of human beings. One mountain road is very much like another, and to me on the look-out for subjects for my sketch book, there was a very great sameness everywhere, except the dust, which was worse than I have seen it anywhere, even in South Africa. It could have given points to the densest London fog and won easily. The big military motor _Camions_, raised such clouds of it that progress at times was almost impossible. You could scarcely see a yard ahead, and where you knew that the roadway ended abruptly on one side, it was not altogether pleasant to reflect that your safety depended solely on the skill or luck of your chauffeur—a speck of grit in his eye, a momentary lapse of “nerve,” and you might find yourself in “Kingdom Come.” In fact, it always struck me that the risk you ran from shell-fire was infinitesimal as compared with that of motoring on these mountain roads. We were only permitted to go a little way beyond Caporetto, the General having given instructions that he did not desire any motor traffic further along the road as it might interfere with his “arrangements.” As we were quite exposed to the Austrian batteries this appeared reasonable enough, so, accompanied by a very amiable and learned Staff Officer as guide we ascended a hill close by from which we were able to gain some idea of what was going on. Facing us were being carried out the most important strategic operations on the whole of the Italian Front. We were looking up the valley of the Isonzo River, here somewhat narrowed; the stream, from the height where we were standing, looking like a dark blue ribbon laid across white gravel. Precipitous mountains rose abruptly from either side of the valley, and towering above all was Monte Rombon, 10,000 feet high, at the very summit of which the Austrians had their most strongly fortified position in the Front. This position was the key of the Austrian defences in the sector, and to capture it the Italians, at the time of our visit, were putting out every effort. It was already completely invested, and the Italians were bombarding it with heavy artillery, placed on Mount Svinjak opposite. We could see the shells bursting high up on the precipitous slopes of the mountain. The report of the guns echoed and re-echoed grandly, but the tiny puffs of smoke looked ridiculously insignificant in comparison to the volume of sound.