We gladly accepted his suggestion, so it was arranged we should start early the next day as we had a stiff climb before us. We then went back to the village.
It was getting towards nightfall, and the narrow main street recalled vaguely Chamonix. It was crowded with Alpine soldiers, and in the dusk they conveyed some impression of mountaineering tourists, the illusion being heightened by the clank of their hobnailed boots on the cobbles and the alpenstoks they all carried.
The village had not been evacuated as most of them are near the Front, so there were women and children about. The principal hotel was open, and we got two good rooms for the night, and what was more to the point, for we were both famished after our long drive, one of the best dinners I have had anywhere in Italy, the big cities included. It was a table d’hôte for the officers, but we were informed there was “probably no objection” to our dining at it.
Our appearance in the dining room created no little surprise, as we were the only civilians present, our Press badges especially exciting much comment, as this was the first time that correspondents had been here.
Following the lead of my colleague, I bowed first to the Colonel, who was at the head of the table, then to the rest of the officers present, and we sat down at a small table by ourselves, amidst the somewhat embarrassing attention we were attracting. This soon wore off, however, as Italian officers are gentlemen not Huns, and it was evidently realised that we had permission to come to Bormio or we should not have ventured to be there.
CHAPTER VIII
On the summit of the Forcola—We start off in “military” time—Our guide—Hard climbing—Realize we are no longer youthful—Under fire—Necessary precautions—Our goal in sight—An awful bit of track—Vertigo—A terrifying predicament—In the Forcola position—A gigantic ant-heap—Unique position of the Forcola—A glorious panorama—The Austrian Tyrol—The three frontiers—Shown round position—Self-contained arsenal—Lunch in the mess-room—Interesting chat—The “observation post”—The goniometre—Return to Bormio—Decide to pass another night there—An invitation from the sergeants—Amusing incident.
CHAPTER VIII
The summit of the Forcola is only nine kilometres as the crow flies from Bormio, but we were told that it meant covering at least three times that distance to reach our destination, and the hard climb would make it appear much more.
We therefore got off in military time in the morning, and went a bit of the way in the car till we came to a sort of wayside châlet, quite Swiss in appearance, where a detachment of Alpini was stationed.