We were received by the Colonel commanding this sector of the artillery, a grizzled warrior, wearing a knitted woollen sleeping cap pulled well down over his ears, which gave him a somewhat quaint and unmilitary appearance.
The “observation post” was merely a small hole through the rocks, and so awkward to get at that only two people could look through it at the same time. Immediately facing you across a shallow valley was a barren hill of no great elevation (of course it must be remembered we were here several thousand feet up). There was no sign of life or vegetation, and it looked so singularly bare and uninteresting that unless you had been told to look at it your attention would never have been attracted to it.
Yet this was the much talked of Col di Lana. Seen, however, through field glasses its aspect altered considerably, and you could not fail to notice what appeared to be row upon row of battered stone walls, and also that the ridge was very much broken up, shewing patches everywhere of red sand.
The “stone walls,” the Colonel told us, were what remained of the Austrian trenches and the patches of sand were caused by the incessant bombardment by the Italians. At that moment there was not the slightest sign of military activity anywhere, no sound of a gun disturbed the still air.
It seemed incredible that we were gazing on the most redoubtable position on the whole Front, and one that for weeks had barred the Italian advance in this direction.
Someone remarked that it did not look so very formidable after all, and asked the Colonel if it would really mean a very big effort to capture it.
“To take that innocent looking summit now,” he replied gravely, “would necessitate attacking it with a couple of hundred thousand men and being prepared to lose half of them. We shall get it by other means, but it will take some time; meanwhile every yard of it is covered by my batteries.”
We continued to gaze on the silent landscape with increasing interest, when suddenly, as though an idea had occurred to him, the Colonel said that if we did not mind waiting twenty minutes or so he would show us what his gunners could do. Of course we asked for nothing better. So he went up to the telephone cabin and was there a little while; he then came back and told us to follow him.
He led the way down a ravine enclosed by lofty cliffs close by. At the foot of it were large boulders, some with sandbags spread on them. This was his sharpshooter’s lair, he informed us, but for the moment they were not there.
We were then told to hide ourselves as much as possible behind the rocks and watch what was going to happen on the Col di Lana, which was in full view from here.