With British Guns in Italy: A Tribute to Italian AchievementDalton, Hugh Dalton, Baron
History
With British Guns in Italy: A Tribute to Italian Achievement
Dalton, Hugh Dalton, Baron
World War, 1914-1918 -- Italy
We had certainly been spotted. And then we suddenly saw another plane,
this time an Italian, coming from the left, flying high, hard in
pursuit. The Austrian began to rise, but the Italian outpaced him and
got right above him, and pressed him gradually down towards the ground.
We heard the wooden-sounding _clack-clack-clack_ of machine gun fire.
And then we saw the Austrian evidently go out of control, diving toward
the ground, more and more rapidly, and the Italian circling downwards
above him; and then the Austrian went out of sight behind the acacias
and a few moments later a column of smoke began to rise. He had crashed
in flames, just this side of the river, and his valuable information
with him. The Italian flew back over us, triumphantly and very low this
time, and waved his hand to us. And we gave him a grateful cheer.
CHAPTER XXXVII
THE BEGINNING OF THE LAST BATTLE
By the night of October 24th the river had fallen a few inches, and
British Infantry crossed in small boats to the Grave di Papadopoli, a
long island of sand in the middle of the stream. On the right a
Battalion of the Gordons crossed, rowed over by Venetian boatmen. I met
one of their officers afterwards. "Everyone of those boatmen deserved a
decoration," he said. "They were all as cool under heavy shell fire as
if they had been rowing on the Grand Canal." Our Infantry held their
preliminary positions here for two days, in spite of considerable
Austrian bombardment and counter-attacks. British aeroplanes flew over
the island and dropped rations in sandbags. Throughout the fighting of
these two days, we were standing by ready to open fire, if orders should
come. But no orders came and we remained a silent Battery.
But on the night of October 26th, half an hour before midnight, the big
bombardment opened and our guns spoke again. It was to be their last
great oration. It was, of its kind, a fine, thunderous performance, and
the Austrian reply, in our own neighbourhood, was feeble. Evidently they
had not spotted our position, thanks to that Italian airman. Our targets
were enemy Batteries and Brigade Headquarters. We fired gas shells
continuously for many hours, switching from one target to another, until
a strong wind got up, rendering gas shelling comparatively ineffective.
Then we got orders to change to high explosive. The gun detachments
worked splendidly, as always. We were below strength and could not
furnish complete reliefs, but no one spared himself or grumbled.
On the morning of the 27th, just before 7 o'clock, our Infantry
attacked, crossing from the island to the further bank of the river.
There were no bridges, and the water was breast high in some places. In
places it came right over the heads of the smaller men, but their taller
comrades pulled them through. Where the current was strongest, cables
were thrown across and firmly secured, and to these men held on, as they
forced their passage through the water.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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