CHAPTER VI
Florence in war time—War correspondents to visit the Front—I receive a letter from Mr. Capel Cure of the Embassy—Return to Rome—Signor Barzilai, Head of Foreign Press Bureau—I am officially “accepted”—Correspondents to muster at Brescia—Rome to Brescia via Milan—The gathering of the correspondents—Names of those present—Papers represented—The correspondent’s armlet—Speech of welcome by General Porro—Plan of journey announced—Introduced to officers of Censorship—To leave war zone at conclusion of tour of Front—“Shepherding” the correspondents—Censorships established at various places—Correspondents’ motor cars—Clubbing together—Car-parties—My companions—Imposing array of correspondents’ cars—National flags—Cordiality amongst all correspondents and Censors—Good-fellowship shown by Italians—Banquet to celebrate the occasion.
The King appeared indefatigable and was out and about in all weathers ([see page 49])
To face page 62
CHAPTER VI
I stayed in the City of Dante for nearly a month, and was fully engaged the whole time working up the sketches I had brought with me from the Front. It was fortunate, as I soon discovered that I had plenty to occupy me, for there was nothing whatever to be seen in Florence that conveyed any suggestion of war.
As a matter of fact, the war did not appear to affect the Florentines at all; everything was going on in the city exactly the same as when I was there some few years before, and if you did not read the papers of a day you might have almost forgotten it. I was glad therefore to be able to keep in touch with it through the medium of my work, as I had no desire to live the life of an art student or dilettante here, delightful as it is under normal conditions.
Towards the end of July it became known that there was a chance in the near future of a restricted number of Italian and foreign war correspondents being officially recognized and permitted to visit the Front, and I received a friendly letter from Mr. Capel Cure, at the British Embassy, advising me to return forthwith to Rome if I wished to be included in the English group. I left Florence, therefore, by the first train for the capital.
For the next few days I haunted 11 bis via Pompeo Magno, the residence of Signor Barzilai, the genial President of the Italian Press Association, and the rooms of Signor Baldassarre, the Head of the Foreign Press Bureau, at the Ministero del Interno, till at last, to my great relief, I was notified that I was on the official list of correspondents.
I had been on tenterhooks all the time for fear my escapade at Udine would militate against my being accepted.
It was then announced that the chosen few were to muster at Brescia to meet the officers appointed to act as censors and to chaperon them during a tour of the Front, which was to occupy six or seven weeks, and which would cover at least 3,000 kilometres.
From Rome to Brescia is quite a long journey, via Milan, where one has to pass a night.
There was quite a big gathering at the reception of correspondents in the quaint little Town Hall where we assembled, as, in spite of the weeding-out process which had taken place in Rome, no fewer than forty-one papers were represented—twenty-six Italian, six French, seven English, and two Swiss.
As was to be expected, Italian journalism was widely represented. It had no less than twenty-six correspondents, and every town of importance in Italy appeared to have sent someone.
I cannot recall the names of all the talented fellows who had been despatched from every corner of the Peninsula to record the doings on the Italian Front.
First and foremost, of course, was Luigi Barzini, without whom the assemblage would have been quite incomplete, as he is probably the most popular of press writers in the world to-day. In Italy, in fact, he is a sort of institution, and it is certainly no exaggeration to state that he is as well-known by sight as the King or General Cadorna.
Then there were Benedetti, Baccio Bacci, Fraccaroli, Gino Piva, Giovanni Miceli, and Aldo Molinari, the black and white artist and photographer, to cite only a few names in the brilliant attroupement of Italian journalistic talent.
The French Press had six representatives: the Temps, Jean Carrère, one of the best known and most popular of foreign correspondents, who speaks Italian like his mother tongue; the Petit Parisien, Serge Basset; the Echo de Paris, Jules Rateau; the Journal, Georges Prade; the Illustration, Robert Vaucher; and the Petit Marseillais, Bauderesque. As genial and typically French a crew as one could meet anywhere.
The English Press was also well to the fore. The Times, as the most powerful of British journals on the continent, was appropriately represented by a giant in stature, W. Kidston McClure, as amiable and erudite a gentleman as ever stood six feet eight inches upright in his socks, and who, by reason of his great height, raised The Times a head and shoulders above the rest of us.
W. T. Massey was the Daily Telegraph, a good and solid representative of the older type of modern journalism; J. M. N. Jeffries the Daily Mail young man, a slender stripling with brains, and bubbling over with a sort of languid interest in his work, but who, in his immaculate grey flannels and irreproachable ties, somehow gave the impression of just going on or coming off the river rather than starting on a warlike expedition; Martin Donohoe, the Daily Chronicle, the very antithesis of Jeffries, burly and energetic, and in every way a typical representative of Radical journalism, which was further represented by Ernest Smith of the Daily News.
Gino Calza Bedolo, one of the youngest and most talented of rising Italian journalists was “lent” to the Morning Post for this occasion by his paper, the Giornale d’Italia, and a very able and spirited representative did he prove, as the readers of the Morning Post must have found.
And lastly, the Illustrated London News, by your humble servant, sole representative of English pictorial journalism with the Italian Army in the Field.
There were no Americans, as with the somewhat curious exception of the two Swiss, only the allied nations were admitted. I may add that everyone had to wear a white band round his coat sleeve bearing the name of the paper he represented.
We were received by General Porro, Sub-Chief of the Italian General Staff, on behalf of the Generalissimo, and he made a cordial speech of welcome, in which he introduced us to the officers of the censorship and detailed the arrangements that had been made to enable the correspondents to see as much as possible of the operations.
Everything for our big journey had been planned out with true Italian thoroughness, even to providing every one of us with a set of large and reliable maps, whilst on the head of giving permission to see all we desired there was no cause for complaint, as we were to be allowed to go everywhere along the Front; the only reason for disappointment being in the information that immediately after the tour was finished we should be obliged to leave the war zone until further orders.
It was therefore to be a modified version of the modern method of shepherding the war-correspondents as initiated by the Japanese in the Russo-Japanese War; however, the latitude given as to freedom of action was very generous.
Censorships were established at important centres such as Brescia, Verona, Vicenza, Belluno, and Udine, and visits to the various positions along the Front within fairly easy distance of these places were allowed.
The Correspondents were expected to have their own motor cars, and, of course, pay all expenses, but the Government supplied horses or mules for the mountaineering work whenever necessary. It had been made known in Rome that we should have to provide our own transport, so there had been a general clubbing together with a view to sharing cars and thus dividing up the expenses which were bound to be heavy. Little coteries were thus formed, and, as might have been anticipated, the three nationalities were segregated.
When I had got to Rome I found the car-parties were already formed, and there was no room for me amongst the English, but I was lucky enough to be introduced to two very nice young fellows, Italians, Gino Calza Bedolo, of the Giornale d’Italia, and Aldo Molinari, of the Illustrazion Italiana, who gladly let me take a share in their car, as they both spoke French and were very keen on going everywhere and seeing all there was to see. I felt I had really fallen on my feet and was going to have an interesting time, and so it turned out, as will be seen.
The array of correspondents’ cars was quite imposing, and as most of them were packed full up with baggage and decorated with the national flag of the occupants the effect may be imagined. It was certainly a memorable occasion for Brescia, and a crowd assembled outside the Town Hall to watch the strange scene.
The utmost cordiality sprang up immediately, not only amongst the Correspondents but with the Censors also, who were all officers selected for their thorough knowledge of French and English, and as, of course, it was also necessary that they spoke these languages fluently, this in itself helped not a little to establish at once a friendly relationship between us all.
The good fellowship shown by the Italian journalists towards their French and English confrères was quite remarkable from the very start. On the evening of the day of the reception at Brescia they invited us to a banquet to celebrate the occasion, and gave us a delightful accueil and a splendid dinner. Belcredi, Vice-President of the Italian Association of Journalists, was in the chair, and made a great speech, in which he expressed the pleasure of himself and his confrères at meeting us at Brescia, and emphasizing the sincerity of the friendship between Italy and the Allies.
Jean Carrère, of the Temps, and McClure, of The Times, responded eloquently in Italian on behalf of the French and English correspondents, after which all formality ceased and the utmost camaraderie ensued, although we had only known each other a few hours it was also already like a gathering of old friends. It was an evening to be remembered and of the happiest augury, as will be seen.