Far away in the distance, behind the line of the Piave, which on clear days outlines itself as a thin silver streak on the plain, our observation balloons arose. I counted twelve and with an incredible feeling of homesickness I remembered that under them lay our dear land. While descending the hill I saw a little hut, half demolished, from which came a thin stream of smoke. I wished to see who could live within such battered walls. As I opened the door a nauseating stench came forth. At first I thought the place uninhabited, but near the manger I espied two human bodies enveloped in a long wrap. I tried to get them to talk, but at first they would not answer me. Finally, from above that confusion of rags, I saw not a head, but something which looked more like a skull than a head. A feeble voice which seemed to come from afar murmured, “Leave us in peace, leave us alone, let us die here. We are two escaped Italian prisoners from the concentration camp at Vittorio, where they used to give us nothing to eat and would nourish us with beatings. As long as the Russian prisoners stayed here we fed ourselves on their herd of cattle, but now it is fifteen days since they have gone and we have had nothing but snails and the mushrooms in the woods. We are here at the end of the manger so that if a gendarme should open the door he would not see us (the man coughed), but for some time we have not had even enough strength to get up and we lie here all day waiting for the hour of liberation, in the hope that death at least will free us forever from our torturers!” XIV It was June 14th. Time 11:30 P.M.: the night was serene; great peace reigned over the hills and mountains; no sound reached us. From afar off in the direction of Capella the feeble voice of a piano brought us the echoes of a Viennese waltz. All this calm surprised and frightened me for I knew what was preparing beneath the calm exterior. That evening I had received a note from Brunora on which were written the sole words, “until to-morrow.”