World War, 1914-1918 -- Personal narratives, Italian
light might by chance fall on us. We silently crossed the short stretch
which separated us from the first branch of the stream. When we reached
the water we bathed our temples and drank a cool draught which gave us
great relief. A deep joy possessed us for we believed we were free. We
believed we could easily reach the other side. We crossed many small
courses where the water was very low and not rapid. At last we found
ourselves in front of the main current and at once, from the noise of
the current we realized this crossing would be far different from the
others. We tried to enter the stream, but as soon as we had taken a few
steps forward the impetuous water threatened to engulf us. We clasped
ourselves tightly one to the other and tried to resist that we might
advance, but the rushing current reached up to our necks and we should
have had to struggle hard and long before reaching the other side. None
of us was an expert swimmer, no one knew how to conquer the current,
and after numerous attempts we returned to the bank, disappointed and
disgusted that we could not cross. And now what should we do? I
preferred to face a platoon of armed Austrians rather than struggle
with this whirling water which I did not know, for unknown dangers have
ever frightened me. We dared not delay any longer and the only course
left open to us was to return before dawn surprised us.
After numerous difficulties we succeeded in reaching the place where we
had left our clothing; we dressed hurriedly and commenced our journey
back. We felt very weary and hungry and all these sensations were
rendered more acute by the disillusion and grief within us at not
having got through. The distance to be traversed before we reached home
again was great and after resting a short while in a house at Miane we
walked by day on the main highway without worrying much about the
gendarmes. We wished to reach Tarzo before night, to reach the
hospitable house where we should find a bit of food. Hunger gave wings
to our feet. On the way we passed several platoons of gendarmes and in
accordance with their usual system they all let us pass and then called
us back at once to show our papers. These papers must have been truly
marvelous because no one questioned them and we proceeded without
difficulties. My poor feet were in a pitiful condition and the rough,
heavy underwear rubbing against the bruises made by the wires and
entanglements hurt terribly.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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