In fact, after a time one got to recognise instantly the Royal Fiat, however grimy and bespattered with mud it might be, for the King appeared indefatigable and was out and about in all weathers, and was said to have visited all the sectors of the Front and to be never satisfied unless he saw for himself all that was going on amongst the troops.

His undaunted courage is proverbial in Italy, and no danger, however great, deters him going anywhere if he sets his mind on it, as his personal staff knows only too well. In this connection I recollect a story that was told which will illustrate this.

On one occasion His Majesty expressed his intention of joining the advance guard on a height just occupied and which was being heavily fired on by the enemy. An officer of Alpini respectfully pointed out the danger and difficulty of attempting it. The King laughingly replied that where the Alpini could go an old Chamois-hunter like himself could also go, and insisted on climbing to the position.

The presence of the King always stimulated immensely the enthusiasm of the troops, and this was particularly noticeable when he accompanied the first brigade which crossed the Isonzo on a bridge thrown by the Engineers.

It is this desire to be not only with but amongst his soldiers and sharing their perils that has helped so much to establish the sort of fraternal love and sympathy that exists between Victor Emanuele and me men, which one cannot fail to notice whenever the word goes round “Here comes the King.”

It was quite touching to hear on all sides the expressions of affection of the big rough soldiers for the wiry little man, covered with dust, who saluted one and all so genially as he whirled past in the big car.

It is this feeling of brotherhood of which the King sets the example that animates the whole army—one could not fail to be struck by it—officers, non-commissioned officers and men are all on the most friendly terms together and there is probably no more democratic army in the world to-day than the Italian.

In this connection I recall a pleasing incident I witnessed one day on a mountain track; an officer riding a mule at the head of a small detachment of soldiers, who were plodding along stolidly in the intense heat, was reading his newspaper aloud for the benefit of them all. Curiously enough this camaraderie leads to no impairment of discipline—rather the contrary perhaps, as for instance, one sees men go out of their way, so to speak, to salute officers at all times, not as a matter of duty only, but to show their respect for their rank.

I was more particularly reminded of this on my return to London, where the laxity shewn by the rank and file towards officers in the matter of saluting in the streets is particularly noticeable.