The Flying Spy

by Camillo De Carlo

We had to be on our guard so as not to fall in the jaws of the wolf when least expected. We were bound to travel more slowly and try to stay as far as possible from dwellings. Had we been dressed in civilian clothes we should have been less conspicuous, but if anyone were to see us in Italian uniforms, with our healthy appearance and clothes not badly worn, he might suspect us at once and spread the news. Furthermore we had to be very careful not to meet Austrian soldiers. We had to avoid the roads where the gendarmes usually walk.

The languid melody of night had been superseded by the brisker melody of the morning. It seemed as if all the voices of the country were of one accord to tell us the tale of the light which was about to rise, to celebrate the praises of the great light-giver which, having traversed the starry deserts, returns to us with the joys of the awakening. The air had become colder, there was in it something sharper, something which invigorates one for the struggle of the day. Towards the east, towards the distant aviation fields where the searchlight faded in the first greenish lights of dawn, a thin, pale, wan light penetrated and followed the grave majesty of night, the grave, deep azure vault in which Venus had lit her torch.

The houses became more frequent and from them there sounded occasional confused noise of voices. Something common and familiar was awakened in our consciences. The wonder of sleep was interrupted by the little necessities of every hour, and these needs were revealed to us by the noise of wooden shoes running downstairs, by a virile voice, or by the bellowing or mooing of an animal as it awakened. The roosters raised their silvery voices towards the sun and their joyous chants multiplied and increased along the plain with the light. Life was being reborn again in a multitude of ways and we had not reached a safe spot as yet, we had not reached the mountain where we should be able to change our clothes. We were compelled to quicken our steps, lest we be discovered unexpectedly, and since in the many noises we had heard nothing abnormal, nothing which indicated the presence of the enemy, we hastened all the more to reach the hills embossed in the thick foliage of the chestnut trees.

A small village extended at a short distance to our right and the tranquil houses with their sloping roofs of wood clustered about the church like little devout women who wished to enter. Our progress was now more difficult because at times our path was crossed by wire railings, by low walls which must be jumped, and every now and then there was no alternative but to travel along stretches of road where we were likely to have unpleasant encounters. A bluish smoke rose from the chimneys and through a thick curtain of leaves I got a glimpse of a peasant who having collected his heifers, urged them on with the tip of his staff. There was only a short distance left for us to cross and having followed for a few moments a wall along the road, and having crossed a small ditch, we again found ourselves in open country and fronting hills sloping toward the plain. We began to ascend and nature at once became wilder, the cultivation less cared for, and thick entanglements of shrubs and thorns encircled the sturdy, knotted trunks of the chestnut trees. These gently sloping hills followed one another in rapid succession, so that no sooner had the climber reached the top of one of them than up shot another elevation which required further ascent. But we had to descend again towards the bottom of the valley from which there rose a sudden cloud of smoke. Between the backs of two mountains which outlined their sharp shapes against the sky there appeared the square imposing mass of the Castle of Polcenigo. We quickened our pace while descending and passed near a small clearing in which a few trenches had been dug and above which projected several targets of cardboard. This must have been a practice field for the enemy, and therefore we could not delay long in its vicinity; for directly the sun rose, there would probably arrive enemy soldiers. Rapidly we traversed the distance which still separated us from the river and without removing our shoes or turning up our trousers we plunged into the water, which reached to our knees, and which separated us from another hill where the wood was so thick and compact that it would serve as a safe refuge in which to change our clothing.

A small rocky path rose towards the summit of the hill and the water of a brook eddied and leaped down through the rocks. The vegetation about us was composed largely of shrubs, and the climbing vines about the massive trunks of the chestnut trees formed intricate labyrinths which it was not easy to enter. At intervals a small clearing opened before us and we chose one of these, not too distant from the top of the hill, as a suitable place in which to make the necessary changes.

This was really a streak of luck because we were thoroughly wet, and it would do us no harm to change into dry clothes. The only thing we wanted to change was our shoes but on certain occasions one cannot afford to be too particular. We undressed and put on the coarse underwear and our heavy peasant suits. I glanced at the front of my uniform on which the three blue medal ribbons, which I did not wish to leave behind me even when I left my country, were pinned. Bottecchia made a bundle of our cast-off clothing and threw it under a tree which could be recognized at once for its height. Those suits might prove useful. If at a future date we should be found and made prisoners we could show our tallies and call ourselves Italian aviation officers who had been compelled to land in a camp near Aviano, because of a sudden damage to the motor. We could say we had ordered the pilot to destroy the plane and that we had obtained civilian clothes from some peasants in which we attempted to reach our own lines. The pilot instead of destroying the plane perhaps had succeeded in adjusting the magneto and had departed leaving us in enemy territory. To prove the truth of our tale we could show them our uniforms which we had left under the tree where they were at present. This version seemed plausible and I hoped that in case of necessity I should be able to convince the Austrians.

We stood up. The resplendent sun was already high in the heavens and all the plain was flooded with its light. The fields which we had traversed extended across the background of the picture and we recognized the rows of poplar trees towards which we had sped when we first alighted. Then we saw again all the cultivated district, the scattered houses we had encountered at the beginning and finally the compact mass of houses of Budoia which we miraculously passed without unpleasant rencontres. Everything about us seemed marvelous. The plants, the flowers, the bushes, the grass seemed to have a new fascination for us. The very rising of the sun astonished us, as though the sun should arise otherwise than in our own territory. Finally we began to consider the insurmountable barrier which separated us from our people, and looking towards the west we sought for a sign of something from the other side. Everywhere we were surrounded by enemy territory. Delay in this spot however was dangerous. We should try to get our bearings more definitely in mind; waiting then in some secluded nook until night fell once more.

It would be interesting to be able to watch from an elevated point the movement on the Sarone-Polcenigo road and we therefore continued our walk towards the other side of the hill; that side which dominated the road. I threw a last glance towards the tree beneath which our uniforms rested, hoping I should never need to see them again. The wood was so thick and tangled that it was difficult to open a passageway among the dense foliage. At length we emerged on a large clearing. In the center the heavy walls of a large house arose. The chimney was tranquilly exhaling a bluish smoke which faded away in the clear atmosphere of the morning. We barely had time to hide before we saw a young woman carrying a large pail of milk come out from the half-open door. How we should have liked to step out and talk with her; how we should have liked to drink a glass of milk! But dared we do it when in that house there might be billeted some enemy soldiers? We turned away and resumed our weary march through the contorted coils of the climbing vines. Occasionally a lizard glided swiftly through the low juniper-bushes which were in bud and we turned, fearful that some suspicious person was following us. The wood became gradually thinner and the hill descended rapidly towards the road. We stopped in a sort of cave surrounded by shrubs from which we could see everything without being seen. In front of us rose the stony wall of the Cansiglio which is almost without vegetation; the sections nearer the lowland however, seemed more cultivated than in previous years. On one side the Livenza, which from its very source forms wide turns over a vast sloping tract of ground, divided our hill from the mountain in front of us. The Church of the Santissima could be distinguished on the further side of the valley and a few houses were scattered here and there over the slopes. We tried to get our bearings so as to study what road to follow as soon as night should fall. That village which we saw about two miles away in the gap between the hills and the Cansiglio was Sarone. Yes, certainly, because lower down, before the long zigzagging of the ascending road, I recognized the great furnaces which are marked on the map. We had to decide whether it would be more convenient to pass to the right or to the left of the village, and both of us decided to pass by way of the mountain where the dwellings are less frequent. For, by that way it would be easier for us to pass unobserved. I thought it would be better to follow a little mule-path which seemed to pass over several small precipices where, one could guess, there was a quarry, and thence, by keeping always towards the center, we should arrive at Belvedere.

The hours followed each other slowly; the sun was high and the noise of the cicadas made itself heard about us. The fields in front of us were peopled with workers and the furrows in which the wheat was planted glistened distinctly. Several women, easily identifiable from the black kerchiefs tied about their heads and the traditional full skirt, were hoeing near us. So far there had been no sign of the enemy, yet from what I heard at Sarone, there should be the command of a brigade of Honwed nearby and therefore also the command of the gendarmes. Several hours had passed and still not a single wagon nor a single soldier had been seen. Suddenly we heard the buzzing of a motor overhead. We raised our eyes and over us an enemy plane flew low, clearly distinguishable by the crosses on its wings. We now had to resign ourselves to the sight of seeing those colors, which we often fought on our front, pass over our heads. Here the machines which would fly at great height and would be followed by bursts of shrapnel would be the planes with the tricolor of our friends and comrades.

Noon had now passed. We inferred this from the position of the sun for we had no watch with us. Subdued whisperings were heard from among the rustling leaves as though persons were passing through the wood which we had crossed. They were the sweet sounds of children’s voices. We left the small clearings at once so as not to be espied and from the wood there came two little boys searching for strawberries. They took the road which led to the house on the top of the hill; after a few seconds every sound ceased. How we should have liked to stop them; how we wished to kiss them, to express to them all our love and how many questions we wished to ask them. But we did not deem it advisable to confide in little children who might talk and so focus on us the attention of soldiers who could not be far distant.