With the car we could, bar accidents, time our return to a minute almost, if we wanted to; and it was really remarkable how seldom any contretemps occurred on the road—an occasional puncture, nothing more.
Such confidence, in fact, did the Italian correspondents place in their cars, or the offchance of “getting something somewhere,” that they hardly ever guarded against accidents by providing themselves with food and drink when on an excursion, and my companions were always surprised when I insisted on taking a parcel of creature comforts for us all, in case we wanted them, for I had discovered what it meant to be really hungry and thirsty.
The least severely wounded occupants jumped out of the wagon ([see page 179])
To face page 186
One day, when visiting a position, I had forgotten to take anything with me, but consoled myself with the idea that I should at least be able to get a crust of bread and a drink of wine on the way.
But it turned out that we were in an outlying district, so I had to pay the penalty of my forgetfulness by being famished all day, as one does not like to ask anything of the soldiers if one can help it: they usually only have sufficient for themselves, and would be too good-natured to refuse you.
Returning to Udine for lunch, to my mind, always gave a touch of the unreal to the scenes you had just witnessed.
There were, as I have said, several really decent restaurants in the town, where everything was well served, and the appointments were quite good. These would be crowded of a day, and one always saw many ladies at lunch-time and dinner.
At one or other of these places you could be sure of meeting friends, and as one was usually much too hot and tired after a long motor drive to trouble to go back to one’s rooms to change, you would drop into a restaurant just as you were, in campaigning kit, and covered with dust or mud.