However, my usual program was interrupted one day by a communication from the Intelligence Division of the Third Army, sent by Colonel Smaniotto, ordering me to report at once to the Command for important instructions. I had but just returned from a flight and was editing my report on the movements I had noticed on the coast roads and the modifications I had noticed on an enemy bridge over the new Piave, when the summons came. Swiftly enough I traversed by automobile the short distance between the aviation camp at Marcon and the headquarters of the division which were in a villa in Mogliano. The colonel immediately received me, with his customary smile and courteous manner. He was seated in front of a large table burdened by maps and books—a high table which dominated other smaller tables at which officers in charge of special departments of the Intelligence Division were seated. Colonel Smaniotto was the leading mind in the Intelligence Division. He possessed the calm, fine, discriminating mentality which analyzed all the varied reports—strange, common, unusual, gathered from all sides, whence he prepared an exact summary of the enemy forces and plans for the use of the General Staff. With his clear, straightforward look he would stare into our eyes to divine our thoughts; his manner was serious and tranquil; his entire personality inspired faith and confidence. “Are you from Vittorio?” he asked me. “No, sir. I was born in Venice, but the old house of my family is in Vittorio, and in Vittorio, Congliano, Cimetta, Fontanelle, in fact scattered all over that region we have—or rather we had—extensive properties.” “Did you know,” the Colonel continued with a smile, “that the command of the German army of Von Buelow had established itself in your house in Vittorio?” “I did not know.” “But why? Don’t you read the daily bulletins which are circulated to keep the aviators informed about the enemy forces?” “No, sir. For the past few days I have been flying a great deal and I have had less time for reading.” “What would you say,” he asked me point-blank, “if I were to propose to you an excursion to go on the enemy side for the purpose of seeking exact information about the condition of the enemy? Nothing has been determined as yet—the time, nor the means for effecting this project. Think it over. We need a trustworthy person, a man who is serious, and in whom we can have absolute faith. I am glad to see you have already two medals, one of silver and one of bronze. This might be a chance for you to earn a medal of gold. As I said before, I have as yet no particular plan. It is up to you, knowing well as you do that countryside, and the habits of its peasantry and their dialects, to devise some way for landing and keeping yourself on the other side. Tell me, now, when your family left Vittorio, didn’t you leave some custodian or guardian to look after the houses?”