Thus the first few weeks of war fully bore out the expectations of those who were convinced that the skill of General Cadorna and the spirit of the Italian army would be more than a match for any efforts of the Austrians, and justified the confidence which was felt on all sides.
Events moved rapidly during those early weeks of the war, and success followed success without intermission.
Monfalcone, the seaport on the Adriatic, with its important shipbuilding yards, Gradisca and Sagrado were added to the list of Austrian towns captured by the Italians in June, together with the important position of Monte Corrada. All of which represented a distinct advance into enemy territory in the direction of Trieste.
It was not, however, a “walk over,” and the Italians had to pay dearly in places for their successes. The fighting for the middle Isonzo continued fiercely, and there were severe losses round Plava before the place was taken. The Austrians, however, lost still more heavily.
The attack on Gorizia, which was to last so many months, may be said to have commenced about the middle of June, when the Italians were able to start bombarding the fortifications of Santa Maria, San Pietro, San Marco, and Santa Lucia, besides the Austrian positions dominating the town, especially Mount San Gabriele.
Of course all this meant long range artillery duels day after day, which presented but little spectacular interest, though it was obvious that there was method in all this vast expenditure of ammunition, purposeless as it may have appeared to the layman; to me as an artist, however, there were plenty of subjects for sketches, and without having to search for them through field glasses. Not far afield there were always interesting incidents—little touches of human nature in the camps and on the road that fortunately for me had so far escaped the attention of the ubiquitous photographer.
On one occasion, for instance, I saw Mass being celebrated in a small encampment in the mountains; for it must be remembered that the innate piety and religious spirit of the Italian Army have been evident in every step of our Ally’s campaign against Austria.
On a road in the wild district near Pontebba a rude altar of rough boxes was set up—the altar cloth was a soldier’s blanket—the priest’s assistants were soldiers.
It was a common soldier who rang the bell at the Elevation of the Host, and the kneeling troops told of the devout spirit in which they had entered not only into the Divine Service but also into the war.
A battery was passing along the road at that moment, and the artillerymen bared their heads and piously made the sign of the Cross, whilst a sentry before a row of grey tents fell on his knees.