CHAPTER XIV
Slow but certain progress on the Trentino front—An open secret—The mining of the Castalleto summit.—Carried out by Alpini—Recapture of Monte Cimone; also by Alpini—Heroic exploits—Udine one’s pied à terre—An ideal “News centre”—The Isonzo Front—The old days of the war correspondent as compared with the present conditions—Well to be prepared—Returning to Udine for lunch—Attracting attention—Unjustifiable—Things quiet at the Front—Unusual heat of the summer—Changeable weather at Udine—Early days of August—Increasing activity in the Isonzo Sector—Significant fact—Communiqué of August 4th—The communiqué of the following day—General attack by Italians all along this Front—Arrange start for scene of action—My car companions 6th August—Magnificent progress everywhere—Afternoon news—Capture of Monte Sabottina announced—We make for Vipulzano—On the road—Stirring scenes—“New” regiments—“Are we down-hearted”—The penchant for Englishmen—A cortège of prisoners—Like a huge crowd of beggars—Half-starved and terror-stricken strapping young fellows.
CHAPTER XIV
The success of the counter-offensive of General Cadorna in the Trentino had a cogent bearing on the stirring events which were to take place a few weeks later. Meanwhile, as I have pointed out, the Austrians, although pushed back, were by no means beaten, and during the whole of the month of July the Trentino Front loomed large in the communiqués.
Slow but certain progress was continually being reported, and if nothing startling in the shape of an advance could be recorded, it was satisfactory to note that the Italians were without a doubt holding up the greater part of the entire Austrian Army on this Front alone.
This has been demonstrated beyond controversy, and in itself was no mean achievement, and spoke volumes for the tenacity and endurance of the Italian soldier, for it must not be overlooked that this Army was not composed of the offscourings of the Dual Empire, but its crack regiments, and commanded by its most distinguished officers.
It was an open secret that had it not been for an error of judgment and generalship on the Italian side, the Austrians would never have been so near achieving success.
The sudden mise en retraite of one of the best known generals, together with several divisional officers, bore this out, and proved that General Cadorna will not overlook incompetency at a critical moment, however high-placed may be the offender, or what his previous record may be. This faculty, if one can so term it, of coming to rapid decisions and holding by them is one of the most characteristic traits of the Italian Generalissimo.
In the Trentino the weeks following the great push may, therefore, have appeared quiet in comparison with what had taken place during these exciting days, but they were by no means uneventful; on the contrary, they were marked by two exceptionally brilliant exploits which, as was seen, had considerable influence on operations elsewhere, and went far to consolidating the Italian gains.
The mining and blowing up of the important Austrian position on the Castalleto summit, east of the peak of Col dei Bos, was one of these feats.
The work was entrusted to the Alpini, and was brilliantly carried out, as may be imagined, for the Alpini never do things by halves. With infinite perseverence, and in the face of continual difficulty, and peril, a tunnel some twelve hundred yards in length was bored, an immense charge of dynamite was exploded, and the whole of the Austrian force that occupied the summit was buried in the wreckage.
This success restored to the Italians the command of the Dolomites Road, and enabled them to resist all attempts on the part of the Austrians to regain the position.
The other great event of the month was the recapture of Monte Cimone, the mountain which towers above Arsiero. This exploit was also accomplished by the Alpini.
The table-like summit had been in the possession of the Austrians since the latter part of May, and had been transformed by them into a veritable citadel, and one of the strongest points on their line of defence in this region.
The Alpini, as was to be expected from these mountaineering athletes, set out without hesitation to accomplish what must have looked like the impossible to the ordinary soldier, though it was really but a repetition of previous heroic exploits of a like nature.
It appeared to me as a layman, incredible that anything but a chamois could clamber up the cliff-like front of Cimone—that any human being could do it never occurred to me for a moment.
It looked a sheer impossibility, yet the Alpini did it, and in spite of the plunging fire from machine guns on the summit, and the shells from flanking batteries at Settecase further up the valley of the Astico.
Verily these soldier mountaineers have well merited the eagle plumes that adorn their Tyrolean hats.
I have recounted these exploits, because they appeared to me to exemplify the burning enthusiasm that animated the troops, and made them eager to undertake anything that was asked of them. From what one could gather, scarcely a day passed without some unrecorded deed of daring being accomplished.
Of course it was not possible for a correspondent to learn beforehand any details of the operations about to be carried out, so, in the event of anything big happening, it was purely a matter of luck being on the spot or anywhere near it.
For this reason one made of Udine a pied à terre, as it was obvious there was nothing to be gained by motoring from place to place on the offchance of seeing something dramatic. At Headquarters one got to know anything there was in the shape of news, and one could arrange one’s movements accordingly.
From the point of view of the journalist, the Censorship Club-room was an ideal “news” centre, since it is not absolutely necessary for him to see what he writes about—so much can be done from hearsay—but for me, as an illustrator, it was obviously a very different matter, and doubtless I missed many a good subject for my pencil through not being fortunate enough to be in the vicinity when some dramatic incident was taking place.
It has always struck me that a pen picture has therefore an advantage over a pencil one. You can, if forced to, make it through the medium of your ears, and your eyes are not essential for its accuracy, as is the case with an artist’s notes.
For several weeks the correspondents were all gathered together at Udine, and only left it occasionally for short excursions.
The Isonzo Front was, from the motoring point of view, so short a distance away that you could start off in the car at six o’clock in the morning, be right up to the firing line by half-past seven, see all there was to see and be back in Udine easily in time for lunch. This, of course, would not have been possible before the advent of the petrol engine.
In the old days of the war correspondent, when he could only get about by means of horses, a “trip” such as is now made easily in a morning would have meant a real “journey” of probably a couple of days, and providing himself with food and probably sleeping outfit as well, so as to be prepared against all contingencies.
With the car we could, bar accidents, time our return to a minute almost, if we wanted to; and it was really remarkable how seldom any contretemps occurred on the road—an occasional puncture, nothing more.
Such confidence, in fact, did the Italian correspondents place in their cars, or the offchance of “getting something somewhere,” that they hardly ever guarded against accidents by providing themselves with food and drink when on an excursion, and my companions were always surprised when I insisted on taking a parcel of creature comforts for us all, in case we wanted them, for I had discovered what it meant to be really hungry and thirsty.
The least severely wounded occupants jumped out of the wagon ([see page 179])
To face page 186
One day, when visiting a position, I had forgotten to take anything with me, but consoled myself with the idea that I should at least be able to get a crust of bread and a drink of wine on the way.
But it turned out that we were in an outlying district, so I had to pay the penalty of my forgetfulness by being famished all day, as one does not like to ask anything of the soldiers if one can help it: they usually only have sufficient for themselves, and would be too good-natured to refuse you.
Returning to Udine for lunch, to my mind, always gave a touch of the unreal to the scenes you had just witnessed.
There were, as I have said, several really decent restaurants in the town, where everything was well served, and the appointments were quite good. These would be crowded of a day, and one always saw many ladies at lunch-time and dinner.
At one or other of these places you could be sure of meeting friends, and as one was usually much too hot and tired after a long motor drive to trouble to go back to one’s rooms to change, you would drop into a restaurant just as you were, in campaigning kit, and covered with dust or mud.
It generally happened, therefore, that you attracted as much attention amongst the well-dressed habitués of the place as if you were “got up” for a fancy-dress ball.
At times, when one came back after a surfeit of horrors, it almost seemed unjustifiable to be sitting down to a civilised meal in a cheerful restaurant.
Of course it goes without saying that Udine was not by any means inclined to be light-hearted, and usually the sole topic of conversation everywhere was “la Guerra” and the operations on the different Fronts.
There was an entire absence of excitement at all times, in spite of the daily thrills provided us by the local press, and the arrival in the evening of the big daily papers of Milan, Rome, etc.
When things were quiet at the Front, life in Udine was stagnant, and I often used to wonder what the Italian correspondents could find to write or wire about every day, for they always seemed to be hard at it, even when the communiqués were of the very briefest character.
Meanwhile events were undoubtedly shaping well, and day by day one heard of minor successes in Trentino, and steady Italian progress all along the line.
It was only what we all expected, but there was nothing yet of a sufficiently startling nature going on anywhere to induce one to start on motor trips to witness long range artillery duels.
Moreover, you had got to know every mile almost of the road leading to the front lines, and it ended by becoming as monotonous as it had been interesting at first, as you seldom saw any change.
The guns were always booming in the distance, the “drachen” hung motionless in the still air, and Taubes came over and were fired on assiduously but generally without result by the anti-aircraft guns.
Fresh subjects for one’s sketch book became more and more difficult to find. It was a period of comparative suspense so far as one was able to judge, and as combined with this, it was a summer of unusual heat even for Italy, a good deal of superabundant energy was necessary to rouse you to activity when there was so little to call for it.
Udine was also bearing out its evil reputation of having the most changeable weather of any place in Italy. Three fine days and a thunderstorm became a bit monotonous, however much you might get used to it.
In the early days of August there was every indication that the period of quiescence was coming to an end, and the communiqués began to refer persistently to increasing activity in the Isonzo sector, and the Trentino was barely mentioned.
The atmosphere for some days past had been charged with rumours that big events were impending, but one got so used to rumours here that no undue importance was attached to the latest. You could only hope that there was some truth in it, as one was beginning to get heartily sick of doing nothing.
Still it was a significant fact that the King and General Cadorna had been frequently seen in this sector during the preceding week and that important movements of troops and materiel were taking place daily.
It was not, however, till the 4th August that there were any real indications that rumour for once was true.
In his communiqué of that date the Generalissimo concluded with a line which, read in the light of subsequent events, was pregnant with historic interest: “On the Isonzo, commencement of very active fire with heavy shells.”
The communiqué of the following day gave the welcome intelligence that there had been a vigorous attack in the Monfalcone sector, and that 145 prisoners, amongst whom were four officers, had been taken.
After this there appeared no doubt that something really important was afoot, and this was confirmed by news that came in during the day that a general attack by the Italians all along this Front was rapidly developing.
There was no hesitation about leaving Udine now, and the correspondents prepared to start at once. I arranged for a seat in the car of Gino Piva, of the Resto del Carlino, of Bologna, and with us was Roberto Cantalupo, of the Corriere d’Italia, of Rome.
Meanwhile one could hear the thunder of the guns in Udine, and from the terrace of the castle the smoke of the bursting shells on the hills was quite distinctly visible, although forty miles away, and during the night the flashes from the guns looked like distant lightning.
On the 6th of August the whole town was agog with excitement all day, and news arrived almost every hour with the welcome intelligence of magnificent progress everywhere.
As it was already rather late to make a start, we decided to wait till the following morning before leaving, in order to be better able to judge from the news that came in the meantime which would be the best point to make for, a somewhat important consideration.
We did not want to waste time and petrol rushing about all over the country, and one knew from previous experience that it was generally only at Headquarters that reliable information could be obtained.
Out in the country nobody ever seemed to know anything of what was going on a mile away from his own section. As it turned out, it was particularly fortunate we deferred our departure.
Late in the afternoon the news reached Udine that the first line of the Austrian defences from Monte Sabottina to Monte San Michele had been completely destroyed by the terrific bombardment of the Italian artillery, and that the infantry were preparing to advance.
Later it was announced that Monte Sabottina itself, the key of the defences of Gorizia, had been captured and many prisoners taken. Events were indeed marching with startling rapidity.
We got away shortly after five in the morning, as there was no time to lose, the way things were shaping. I learned we were to make for Vipulzano, the Headquarters of General Capello, the commander of the sixth corps d’armée operating in the Sabottina zone, and where from all accounts, we should get a capital point de vue if the attack developed further, as it is only three miles from Monte Sabottina itself.
We went via Cormons, and, as might have been expected, there was a big movement of troops all along the road. The offensive had evidently been so well timed and pre-arranged that everything was already on the spot and in readiness to proceed anywhere at a moment’s notice. The capture of Sabottina was no haphazard slice of luck, but the result of a well-matured coup.
We passed several “new regiments” of infantry on their way to the trenches, and one could not fail to be greatly impressed by their smart appearance. Well clothed and shod, their accoutrements and arms in perfect condition, they looked fit to go anywhere and capable of holding their own against any troops Austria could put up. The men were bubbling over with animal spirits and enthusiasm, and we came in for a lot of good-natured banter as we drove past.
As I was in khaki there was no mistaking my nationality, and they seemed delighted to see an Englishman. In fact, I heard several real cockney remarks made for my benefit by fellows who had evidently lived in England, such as:
“Are we down-hearted?”
“Give my love to London,” which elicited much laughter from their comrades, and cries of viva l’Inghilterra.
In this connection I must say that the penchant for Englishmen and everything English was quite remarkable amongst the soldiers everywhere at the Front, and I am convinced that most of the good-fellowship shewn to me whilst in Italy was chiefly by reason of this sympathy rather than from anything personal.
In a village through which we had to pass we were held up for nearly three-quarters of an hour, whilst a long column of prisoners from Sabottina passed.
There must have been over three thousand, and it would be difficult to imagine a more depressing spectacle than this long cortège of weary, dispirited men, plodding moodily through the ruined village. The convoy was guarded by soldiers, and the inevitable carabinieri on horseback.
Had it not been for the uniformity of colour, which was, however, but a semblance of the original field-grey, and their head-gear, there was scarcely anything to indicate that only a few hours previously these had all been fully armed and equipped soldiers.
It looked almost like a huge crowd of beggars going past, for most of the bedraggled men were in rags, and very few had any belongings, and all had a half-starved, terror-stricken appearance that was pitiable.
As a matter of fact, many of them we learned had not eaten or drunk anything for several days, the awful intensity of the fire of the Italian Artillery having prevented any supplies reaching them. Several were badly wounded, and limped along painfully or were assisted by their comrades.
So many stories have been going around the Press of the degeneration of the Austrian Army, that I was astonished to see that most of the prisoners were strapping young fellows. From what I had read, I should have expected a preponderance of old men and weedy youths.
If these were specimens of the troops Austria is still able to put in the field, then she cannot yet be in such a condition of délabrement as has been stated.