One in particular, with whom I had a chat, as she spoke French fluently, was distinctly an attractive personality, and was dressed as daintily as any Parisienne.
I asked if she and her girl friends were not horribly frightened by the noise of the battle and the arrival of the Italian troops.
No, they were not, she replied emphatically, because the Austrian officers, before going away, had told them they had nothing to fear, as they would be back within a week with half a million troops and drive the Italians out again.
She was so good looking, and was so confident this would really happen, that we had not the heart to try and convince her otherwise.
She was beginning to tell us some of her experiences during the bombardment when one of the staff officers came up and whispered to us that it was not advisable that day to talk too much with the inhabitants. Almost needless to add we took the hint.
Carabinieri were already on guard here at the entrance to the building, and from their stolid, impassive demeanour one would have thought they were part and parcel of the municipality of Gorizia. Here is an example of their all-round handiness.
In an adjoining street a big house had been set on fire by a shell, and had been burning for three days we were told. There was no water available to put it out with, and the inhabitants of the houses round were in terror in case it should spread.
The Carabinieri did not stand looking on, but took the matter in hand without hesitation, found out where the fire pump was kept, cleared the street, and in a very short time were fixing up a water supply.
But the occasions when the Carabinieri were en evidence were legion.
On the broad pavement outside the Café during the hot afternoon their Colonel and one of his officers held a sort of rough-and-ready court of enquiry. Chairs were brought out and placed under the trees, and three civilian “suspects” were brought up to undergo a summary sort of cross-examination.