innocent victims they have sacrificed for their pride and mania for conquest. This war was desired by the rich, by the munition makers who ask for nothing better than that the war continue so they can make more money. Meanwhile, they send the poor people to the front to get shot and we, because of these sharks, must go hungry. Now, for instance, if I do not find any wheat at Caorle my children will get nothing to eat. I suppose your children away off in Dalmatia are in a pretty sad state too, because despite all the accusations against Austria of starving our particular regions, I know very well that the conditions there are about the same as here.” The old man sighed and returned my passport. I took off my shoes and crossed with my companions. The kind of talk I had heard so often repeated by Austrian soldiers produced the desired effect when I used it and that poor gendarme certainly could not suspect that the complaining school teacher was the very Lieutenant General for whom he had been warned to be on guard. The first incident cheered us, and we felt that luck was with us and that everything would turn out for the best. We continued along the main road, and while passing through Meduna I recognized the villa of a friend where I had often been a guest. We met several platoons of Austrian shock troops returning from practice. They tramped heavily along the road, their large helmets curved above them, and a solemn, slow chant accompanied their rhythmic tread. We slept at Lorenzaga and in the morning we continued on the dusty road. We passed the great market-place at San Stino di Livenza near the river without any incidents and following closely beside the dikes we arrived at Torre di Mosto. Thence we proceeded cautiously to Paese della Salute. There we had been directed to Don Giovanni Morgantin and he greeted us with great cordiality. He gave us a generous meal, hitched his horse and made us ride in his carriage. He was a great friend of the mayor of Caorle and was to introduce us to him so that the mayor might furnish us with a boat with which to cross the water which separated us from our lines. The horse’s trot made the bells jingle and we marveled that we had again become prosperous and could ride after tramping for so long and envying those who passed us by in carriages. Now we could really call ourselves safe, for the priest who was with us was on very friendly terms with the Austrians and those with him would never be suspected. Furthermore, the band on my arm had already worked miracles. Before arriving at San Stino a gendarme approached me and asked me in the Venetian dialect, “What time is it, Master?” I courteously answered him and gave him the information he desired.