We saw the shells bursting with mechanical precision, and in endless succession, along the summit, which was being gradually pounded to bits. Through your binoculars you searched in vain for some sign of life or man’s handiwork on the desolate ridge, and it was difficult to realize the importance attached to it. Yet it was certain that the enemy was concealed there, and in great strength otherwise this incessant and methodical bombardment would not have been deemed necessary. We had a bit of a stroll round on our way back to the car, and found that, considering the town was midway between the Italian and Austrian batteries, remarkably little damage had been done. What struck me as particularly interesting was that many of the heavy calibre Austrian shells had failed to explode. There was a huge one I was shown that had wrecked a small house simply by its weight alone. It was lying on the ground amongst a heap of débris, quite unimpaired except for a few small scratches. If it had exploded it would probably have destroyed half the side of the street. One had heard so many rumours of the deterioration in the quality of the Austrian projectiles that you wondered whether this was a proof of it. The visit to Gradisca practically concluded our tour of the fighting Fronts. We made another excursion to Cervignano Aquileia and Grado, but this was practically outside the range of military operations, so it was more in the nature of a pleasure trip than anything else. Still it helped to convey a good idea of what had already been accomplished in the conquered area. Cervignano, a rather large and important town, was full of troops, but I learned that these were only “resting” there after a long spell of the trenches. It looked a very pleasant place to “rest” in, and, judging from the cheery looks of the men, they thoroughly appreciated the change, though it was not always peace and quietude even here, as Austrian aircraft had a nasty habit of paying unexpected visits every now and then, I was told. Several women and children had already been killed by aeroplane bombs and a few houses damaged. Aquileia, the ancient capital of Venetia, was only interesting from an archæological point of view, as it presented no military features. A learned officer showed us over the museum and the fine church, with its Roman pavement, and both were, doubtless, interesting and instructive from a student point of view, _mais ce n’était pas la guerre_. I loathe sightseeing, but I suppose it would have been sacrilege if we had missed seeing them since we were there. From Aquilei we had a pleasant motor run through a peaceful countryside to Belvedere, a tiny “port” at the head of the Adriatic, where we embarked on a Government launch for Grado, which is situated on an island a couple of miles away.