As we did not want to pass through the village of Cordignano where we knew there was a command of gendarmes we made a long detour around the outskirts of the houses. As a precaution along the road, Angelin was delegated to walk about fifty paces in front of us and if he saw anything suspicious he was to stop and we should understand. In the open country we all walked together without being over-careful. Walking along in this way we reached a wheat-field and, without noticing it, we landed right in front of a sentinel who at once called, “Halt.” Again we took to flight and swiftly ran out of range of his shots. Reassured by the good luck which seemed to favor us in our encounters we continued our journey walking on the main highway and hiding for a moment whenever a noisy car would rumble past and light the road with the glare of its searchlights. We risked crossing the great Conegliano-Sacile road and did not meet anyone and thence we directed our steps towards the village of Corbolon where we knew there was a bridge. We now reached the most critical stage of our journey for we had to pass a crossing always guarded by gendarmes who challenged all those who tried to pass. I had no desire to face them for I knew how much trouble they could cause, and I could not decide to try my luck. Perhaps it would be prudent to ask the peasants nearby whether the guards were severe and whether they knew any of the gendarmes who guarded the bridge. We entered a farmhouse and asked the information we wanted. They answered that the policeman on guard was a truly good man and that the preceding evening he had talked with them for a long time. He had told them an extraordinary tale which they could not believe even though he had assured them it was true. He told them he had been instructed to examine carefully the papers of all travelers because the report had spread that an Italian Lieutenant General had descended in an aeroplane in the vicinity of the aviation camp at Aviano and the Austrian command had been searching everywhere for him without success. This tale amused me immensely for I well knew that no Lieutenant General had descended in the aviation camp at Aviano and since I was the only one who had landed in that camp, I had a further proof that the Austrians were hunting me and that legends were already beginning to be formed about my adventure. But we did not lose courage; we decided to try the crossing at all costs. The waters of the Livenza were at a high level and passed over the little bridge. I approached the gendarme and with the greatest indifference I handed him my papers. He looked at me and said that if I wanted to cross I would have to take off my shoes. I agreed with him and while he examined my passport I started a conversation. “What ugly weather! The Italians and Austrians haven’t yet had enough of this terrible, devastating war they are waging against each other; they still are not satisfied with the many