The cannonading began again and it seemed more intense to me than ever before. Perhaps that depended on the acoustics, because to-day the clouds were lower and the ground damp, and because the distance which separated me from the Piave was less than that which separated me from the Grappa. Rino brought me the evening bulletin and the news was anything but good and troubled me very much. The bulletin read: “Between the Piave and San Mauro the Austrians have launched a heavy attack and after a bloody struggle have succeeded in crossing the Narvesa Montebelluna railroad reaching to Casa da Ruos. In the region of the lower Piave, after a violent attack, the enemy has succeeded, in the region of Zenson, in uniting its two bridge defenses and in reaching Meolo and pushing forth some platoons towards Monastir. The resistance of the Italians was weaker to-day.” On the Narvesa Montebelluna railroad and around Meolo passed our line of resistance, and therefore the report that the Austrians had succeeded in forcing several points there was disturbing. If they should succeed in widening their possessions there would be no alternative but to withdraw; retreat would be inevitable. I was still impressed by the barbarous event which I had been compelled to witness without being able to assist the poor victim, and perhaps fatigue helped to make things appear blacker, for I had had no sleep for three days and three nights. I had to rest, and find again the freshness, the optimism which now began to fail me. On the 18th, nothing interesting happened. The bombardment lessened slightly towards noon and began again with great violence later. I asked myself how, after so heated a fight, both sides did not feel the need of a brief respite; I wondered why the Austrians did not ease up a little so as to gain new strength for a last desperate attack.