I had not attached much credence to the statement that the Austrians had established a sort of precedent as to time with regard to opening fire every day, but out of curiosity I glanced at my watch as we started back.
It may have been a mere coincidence, but it was just on eleven o’clock. Beyond, however, the dull booming of the guns in the direction of Hill No. 144, there was no sign yet of artillery activity anywhere near Monfalcone.
We had crossed the pontoon bridge and were making our way along the canal bank when there was the report of a gun not very far away in the enemy’s lines, and the screech of a shell passing over our heads proved beyond a doubt that the “Daily Strafe” was about to commence.
The shell burst on the outskirts of the town and in the direction in which we were going. My companion, who was walking on ahead, called out jocularly that we should be “just in time.”
From now the firing increased every minute, and it seemed to me that the sole objective of the Austrian gunners was the place where we had left our car.
We met several groups of soldiers as we went along, and I noticed that if a shell happened to be coming over just then, the majority of the men always stopped and crouched down against the protecting wall of the trench.
This prompted my asking my companion what he considered to be the best thing to do when under fire. “Take no notice of it,” was his laconic reply.
In Monfalcone the streets were nearly deserted, though whether in consequence of the shelling commencing or some other cause, I could not tell; anyhow, as there was nothing further to see that day we returned to Udine “in time for lunch.”
A couple of days later I was back again on the Carso. A big attack on the Austrian positions at Veliki Hribach, near Doberdo, having suddenly developed.
Difficulties had to be surmounted here which were totally different to any previously encountered, as the offensive was made through close-growing woodland.