IV

That which had the greatest effect on me while at the intelligence

office was a description by Lieut. Zannini of the life of the

inhabitants of the invaded regions. He told me of their sufferings; he

assured me that in every moment, every second, they feel Italian and

the more the enemy tries to overcome their sentiments with violence,

the greater grows within them the feeling of revolt and exasperation.

Lieut. Zannini had been taken prisoner during the retreat and by

disguising himself as a soldier prisoner had succeeded in living in

hiding for several days among the peasants, who did all they could to

protect him from the German gendarmes authorized to seize him. He told

me that many of the Italian prisoners, especially those native to the

invaded regions, had succeeded in establishing themselves with some

family, which welcomed them indeed because a man was of great help in

the work on the fields and in protecting the women from the enemy

soldiers.

Throughout the invaded regions the enemy used our prisoners freely for

work on the roads to construct the new railroad from Sacile to

Vittorio. These prisoners, who are held without food and are compelled

to sleep in unhealthy places, often attempt to escape. They wander

about the country begging bread right and left, only returning to the

concentration camp where the whipping post and the prison await them

when they have become exhausted by suffering and privation.

Although the enemy’s hatred against our soldiers is great, they cannot

always prevent the population from coming to our assistance. At times

some of the prisoners, feigning sickness, or because they have special

classification papers, are permitted by the Austrian authorities to

reside for some time with an Italian family.

Now, why couldn’t I become a prisoner? Why, granted that I succeeded in

passing to the other side, couldn’t I join one of these companies? The

idea seemed commendable since I would then be able to approach some

Austrian soldier, and who knows but that among them I might find one

able to give me important information! Furthermore, the plan was

especially suitable, since the largest concentration camp for prisoners

was at Vittorio, and because at Vittorio also there was established the

command of the sixth Austrian army and in the proximity of so important

a command there is ever more likelihood of indiscretions. Vittorio is

again a point of great strategical importance. At Vittorio begins the

great road which leads to Belluno and the Cadore, beside the other road

which crosses the valley of Folina to Vidor.

In the latest encounters it had been observed that the enemy had always

attempted to force our front on the side of the Grappa. Therefore

it would be interesting to attempt to know what was taking place

within the enemy’s back area, where undoubtedly he was making huge

preparations.

The fact that the German general Von Buelow himself had established his

command at Vittorio, indicated the importance of this post. It was

indeed one of those strategical points from which branch forth all the

ramifications of the enemy’s efforts. At Vittorio I know the land inch

by inch; at Vittorio too there remained several persons from my house

who could help me greatly and find some food for me, for from all

reports it appeared that the food supply in the invaded regions was

continually getting worse and that it was difficult even to find a

handful of flour with which to make bread.

Nor did it seem difficult to enter one of these concentration camps,

because it was reported that the enemy had not as yet made a complete

list of all those in the camps, and furthermore there were many with no

qualifying mark except their uniform of Italian soldier. Who knows, but

that if I were to succeed in passing for a prisoner I might not be

detailed, as were certain of our soldiers, to act as automobilists or

letter carrier for some Austrian command? That truly would be ideal for

I then could have access to many reports which otherwise would escape

me. For at bottom I had become convinced that enemy soldiers are little

informed of what happens at headquarters. We Italians are ingenuous

enough to believe that the humblest specimen from the enemy army knows

all the plans of the enemy, whereas, having regard to the fact that the

population which forms the Austrian army is as a whole of a lesser

grade of intelligence, I believe that they are less informed of the

plans than any one of our soldiers. I believed that should a spy try to

get important information from a plain soldier he would learn little

that would be interesting.

A further difficulty which however did not at once occur to me was that

of establishing immediate communications with my own lines. Were I

employed by the Austrian command, I certainly would have a great deal

to do. The life of the two automobilists I had met was full of action

and they had little peace either by night or by day. At times they even

had to do the rounds for some enemy soldier if they wanted to get a bit

of bread to appease their hunger. Therefore my time would be limited.

How too could I explain my sudden disappearances, how explain to my

companions all those complex secret manipulations necessary to

establish communications with the other side? No, the plan of feigning

to be a prisoner would not do. Some other plan had to be studied.

I really cannot understand why I worried my brain so hunting for

something extraordinary when the simplest solution was to disguise

myself as a peasant. No one can know better than I, who have lived in

that region for so many years, the dialect, the customs of its

peasants. It seemed therefore plausible that I should seek to become

one of them, that I should essay to gain access to some isolated house

unhaunted by enemy soldiers, there to establish my general headquarters

whence I might get into communication with whatever favorable elements

I might find in the nearby regions.

One of the methods I considered valuable for obtaining, without

suspicion, the location of the enemy troops, was that of collecting

such postcards and newspapers as soldiers often enough forget or leave

in the houses where they have dwelt. For on the postcard, beside the

address and the number of the regiment, there is always written the

number of the Feld Post to which a soldier belongs and this number of

the Feld Post corresponds to the number of the division to which the

soldier belongs. It follows therefore that if I could communicate to

our side many Feld Post numbers, they who had the division numbers

corresponding to those of the Feld Post, would easily be able to

compile the location of the enemy troops. This method then seemed to me

the most feasible in that it did not entail such questions as might

evoke suspicion, because the answers to my unspoken questions would be

exact, and because before communicating a report it is ever necessary

to have a document on which to base it.

The great difficulty of disguising myself as a peasant on account of my

youthful aspect did however give me pause. I did not believe that those

prisoners who succeeded in establishing themselves in the homes of

friends in the invaded region were of my age, but rather men of an

older class who furthermore caused the enemy to believe that they were

yet older than in truth they were. Yet one way of conveying the

impression that I was older than my years, was by growing a beard. I

believed it would be well for me to let my beard grow, especially as

many of the peasants of our regions, notably the mountaineers around

Vittorio, have the habit of wearing a thick, untrimmed beard. I

resolved then that from the morrow the barber should see me no more, in

the hope that in a few weeks I should not recognize my own image in the

mirror.

Lieut. Zannini, in his return flight to our own lines, made use of a

small rowboat procured near Caorle. Through a small canal he reached

the sea, and on a foggy night putting out further, succeeded in

reaching our lines near Cortellazzo. Why couldn’t I do the same only in

the opposite direction? It was true of course that Lieut. Zannini was

directed towards our lines and that once he had passed the dangerous

zone he had been certain of arriving among friends, whereas for me the

difficulties were bound to increase rather than lessen as soon as I had

arrived on the other side. Then too it was absolutely impossible to

venture so blindly towards the enemy territory without the company of

some fisherman from those regions who knew the coastline well and on

what spot to make a landing. Quite true, but where were we to find such

a fisherman and one willing to lend his services for so hazardous an

undertaking?

One morning I consulted Lieut. Ancillotio about it. He is one of our

expert pilots of chasing machines, and owns vast estates in the invaded

regions, especially along the sea. Nearly all the lands of the

lieutenant are interlaced with drainage canals. It appeared to me that

perhaps one of his peasants would know the entire intricate system of

canals which lead to the sea. It was no easy matter however to find a

man sufficiently cold-blooded for an attempt at such an undertaking,

and one possessing the proper physical and moral attributes necessary

for its successful completion.

Who would assure me again that once we had arrived in enemy territory

such a man would not lose his courage and betray me by some hasty move

or a careless word? However, the more I thought of it, the more I was

convinced that for such an enterprise I must have a trusted companion;

and one not of officer rank lest there should develop two commands, and

two opinions which at times might conflict. This companion must be

simple, trustworthy, faithful; one whose sole task was tacitly to obey

the orders received, and to be an instrument for furthering my plans

and my decisions. There would be, too, moments in which I should need

rest but I should not be able to sleep save someone be on guard. The

greater my labor, the greater my efforts, the more necessary would it

be for me to rest, that I might rebuild and restore my weakened

energies for return to further work. In the same manner when my soldier

should prove weary, I would stand on guard for him, and thus each would

help the other.

I wished to examine the photographic chart of the flooded region in

which I had decided to land with my boat, that I might discover whether

a landing was possible. No easy thing to discern from a photograph

where there is or is not water! I deemed it best to examine the

topographical chart compiled from a careful study of the photographs.

Only a few roads emerged from the flooded regions. There were many

houses completely surrounded by water. Also from the information I

received from Lieut. Zannini, I learned that several families were

living isolated in their houses surrounded by water, but since they

have set aside certain provisions they welcome the peculiar conditions

which prevent more frequent visits from the Austrians. Granted that I

arrived as far as the shore with my boat, it was a doubtful matter

whether I should find it possible to navigate the flooded district,

since there were but the fewest places of reference by which I might

take my bearings. What if, instead, after landing, I were to proceed on

foot along one of the roads which had not been flooded? Even this idea,

which at first seemed feasible I was forced to abandon, because it was

more than probable that the Austrians had placed sentinels along the

scattered roads, and it is impossible to force a passage on a road even

if there is but one armed man guarding it. In case I were discovered

where could I try to escape? Certainly not in the water which would be

surrounding me on every side.

From Commander Granaffei, who has charge of our army’s affairs with the

fleet, I learned that during the night one of our silent motor boats

often succeeded in getting very near the shore along Caorle. This motor

boat, beside its regular motors, is equipped with an electric motor

which is absolutely noiseless. Why not make the attempt in one of

these? If a landing at Caorle, which is at a short distance from our

lines, was not possible, why not try to penetrate with the motor boat,

farther along the coast where the surveillance of the enemy was

assuredly less strict?

Upon examining the map I discovered an admirable spot: the pinegrove

which is near the mouth of the Tagliamento. I pictured myself arriving

there by night, taking cover in the woods, tranquilly awaiting the

rising of the sun that I might study my bearings and then calmly start

upon my journey. But alas! There was another difficulty. The mouth of

the Tagliamento is more than sixty miles distant from Vittorio, which

was the place I had selected as the base from which to begin my work of

observation. Sixty miles, which are trifling under normal conditions,

become an enormous distance when in enemy territory. For it becomes

necessary in traversing so long a tract to enlist the services of too

many people; the spy’s secret must be revealed at least in part to too

many persons, and although I am absolutely convinced of the loyalty of

our people, although I have had numerous proofs that they have risked

and suffered all to shield our men, yet who shall assure me that in so

vast a zone, among so many people there is not one traitor, one who,

not so much to harm me personally as to injure some enemy of his with

whom I may have chanced to sojourn, will spy on me? Furthermore it

became evident to me that not until I had with my own eyes observed the

habits of the enemy, scrutinizing them at work in their own camps,

would it become possible for me to wander collecting the necessary

information in person. Until I had come in actual contact with them, I

believed it were better for me to remain hidden and to use others for

my purposes. It did not seem as if the best way in which to make my

debut were to travel over sixty miles of enemy territory, through a

zone which would undoubtedly be strictly guarded, in that this

territory adjoined the area in which were the bridges, railroads, and

the roads along which the enemy was transporting all his new material

toward the front.

Upon these considerations, I became convinced that to facilitate the

enterprise, it would be necessary for me to set foot in enemy territory

not far from the place chosen as general headquarters. The only medium

then which would permit me to land not far from Vittorio was the

aeroplane. The flats however not far from Vittorio, would facilitate

greatly the work of my pilot. Obviously the landing could not be

effected during the day time; it would therefore have to be essayed at

night. But here again were new difficulties, for night-landings are

usually made with the aid of searchlights so that, apart from all other

considerations, a landing would be difficult by the uncertain light of

the moon on a landing spot never yet adventured by a pilot.

On examining the map there appeared several fields deemed suitable for

the attempt. Near our lines is the aerodrome of Case San Felice where

the Austrians during the first days of the retreat had established

their hangars, because they believed our supplies of artillery of high

caliber to be so depleted that we would not molest them. A vain belief!

For I have reason to know that they were not a little surprised when

one morning they heard arrive overhead many shots from a naval “152.”

(I had suggested that series for I could not tolerate the fact that the

Germans had adopted as their alighting camp an aerodrome which belonged

to me.) After that morning, the enemy aviators transported their tents

farther back. But the camp remained, and inasmuch as several days ago

Austrian planes had landed on the field it seemed highly probable that

there had been no recent works such as would obstruct the landing of a

plane. At times, a small hole, a rock, or a bush is enough to so damage

an aeroplane that it cannot again lift from the field. In my case, it

was absolutely essential that our aeroplane land in such a manner as

for it to be able to be up and away again immediately. For what would

become of us if for any reason we were compelled to remain on the other

side?

The field of San Felice had moreover the advantage of being little more

than a mile distant from one of our farm houses. The inhabitants of

this farm house were truly devoted to us and the overseer, whose name

was Bellotto, had been in his youth my father’s coachman, and was

greatly attached to him. But since (there are difficulties in every

plan) the field was situated near several houses and very near the

highway from Conegliano to Cimetta, which had undoubtedly become one of

the main arteries for enemy traffic, I did not know whether it would be

wise to alight in a field so near dwellings and a main highway. On the

other hand, I was convinced that the surveillance near the front would

be heavier, and who knows but that near Case San Felice there may be

some piece of Austrian artillery of large caliber? It really would be

too discouraging, if after having organized and planned every detail we

should be taken prisoners at once. No, I believed that it was

absolutely necessary for the landing place to be near Vittorio, but in

a zone less frequented by the enemy. The zone which I believed more

suitable to my purpose was the hilly, wooded section of the near Alps

which surround Vittorio. For the little city of Vittorio lies at the

foot of the Venetian Alps. It consists of two villages, Ceneda and

Serravalle and is all surrounded by hills. The village of Ceneda

extends over the plains, whereas that of Serravalle lies where the

valley narrows. The river Meschio flows through Vittorio. The outskirts

of Serravalle rest on the Venetian Alps and on the great road

d’Alemagna which rises at the pass of Fadalto and divides the mass of

the Visentin hill from that of Cansiglio.

There are many lakes in this region. The Fadalto Pass is between Lake

Morto and the Lake of Santa Croce. From Santa Croce to Vittorio there

are not more than ten miles of steep ascent. Another idea occurred to

me; why not make use of a hydroplane?... and descend on the Lake of

Santa Croce? Even this idea which at first seemed plausible had to be

discarded for several reasons. Although the hydroplane can at times

penetrate into inland regions, it is not a very practical means of

locomotion when away from the sea. In our case we would have to travel

forty miles to arrive at the determined spot. It did not seem advisable

to venture out at night into a confused, mountainous region, and

furthermore, the wings might, by the light of the moon, be clearly

mirrored in the water and so be visible to the enemy, and even did we

succeed in landing on the water unobserved, how could I reach the shore?

Therefore I considered instead the zone which lies at the foot of Mount

Cavallo, north of Pordenone. The heath of Aviano, which is not more

than twenty miles from Vittorio, is very extensive and has numerous

places suitable for landings. In fact before the retreat, we had at

Comina and at Aviano our largest aviation camps for bombing-planes.

Almost all the expeditions of Caproni planes which bombed Pola left

from those two camps. The ground is both in good condition and

extensive and although there are numerous little streams, these do not

afford serious obstacles since they are clearly visible. The region is

almost entirely uninhabited and there was no reason to believe that the

Austrians had erected any special construction which might annoy us. If

we could land in a field between Fontana Fredda and Aviano, we might

try to reach the mountain quickly. The fording of the Livenza River

would not give us much trouble, for we could trace it almost to its

source. On examining the map, the best point for a crossing seemed to

be between Polcenigo and Sarone.

Many matters had to be taken into consideration in order that my plans

might be successful. I had first to find a suitable place, then a pilot

with such attributes as an aviator and soldier as would enable him to

face the many surprises of the undertaking. No type of plane with the

propeller in front could be considered, because a landing with such a

plane at night is far more difficult, since the pilot cannot see the

ground in front of him. Both the “Pomilio” and the “Saml” which were at

our disposal were not especially suitable for the kind of descent which

we would have to make. Our plane must be capable of carrying three

persons, because I had absolutely decided to take with me a soldier

from the invaded regions. This soldier would be of great help to me,

and if I decided to stop at some farm house, it would be doubly safe to

stop with the parents of this soldier, that our hosts might have a

double reason for protecting me and for shielding me if, with my life,

the life of one of their own is coupled.

The plane which I deemed would be especially suitable for this

operation was the “Voisin,” an old type of machine no longer in much

use because it is too slow and has not much power of “climb.” But in my

case neither great speed nor great height was needed. What I did need

was a sturdy plane equipped with a truly powerful undercarriage. The

“Voisin” rests on four wheels which support the “cabane” and four

powerful springs of steel fasten the wheels to the fuselage. I have

seen several accidents with a “Voisin,” but in many cases the

sturdiness of the undercarriage has saved the aviators who, with

another plane, would have met with certain death. The “Voisin” is

constructed wholly of steel, and I myself had the opportunity of

testing its resistance in one of my early flights when, through an

error in judgment as to our height on the part of the pilot we struck

the top branches of a tree. The steel skeleton of the wings resisted

the blow and we had the supreme joy of landing on the ground with our

wings covered with the many leaves which we had loosened with our speed.

In regard to the pilot, I had a certain one in mind, Umberto Gelmetti,

a Captain in the Bersaglieri, who was in my squadron during those

glorious twenty-five days when we battled and conquered in the sky over

the Carso. He was now with one of the chasing machines, but still an

efficient pilot of the “Voisin.” He might prove a suitable pilot. He

was an expert and there was no feat too daring for him to attempt.

On February 27th I went to Captain Gelmetti and I laid my proposal

point-blank before him. He accepted the general outline of the plan but

wished to confer as to details. My first idea was, starting from our

territory, to soar to a great altitude over the established field,

then, with engine cut out, to volplane to earth. Captain Gelmetti

remarked that although this method had the advantage of not making any

noise, it had other difficulties. With our motor “ticking over” we

could, if at the last moment we were to spy an obstacle, at once take

flight again. For instance, were we when about to land within

observation of Austrians encamped, we should have a chance of escaping

were our motor in motion, whereas, with motor stopped we should be

compelled to accept our fate. Furthermore who would swing the propeller

to start our motor again? At times it will take several minutes to set

a propeller going and we in enemy territory would certainly have no

time to lose. We might use a small magneto as a self-starter, but such

systems are but uncertain resources with aeroplanes in their present

state of development, and furthermore, after making a descent with a

propeller not in motion our motor would have “gone cold,” and we would

still be compelled to run the engine for some time upon the ground “to

warm her up.” This unusual noise would attract the attention of the

Austrians. The only means for overcoming all difficulties was to apply

such a powerful silencer to the plane as would deaden the noise of the

motor, so that while descending, with the engine making but few

revolutions, the firing of the engine would scarcely be heard and there

would only remain the rustle of the propeller. All these considerations

were discussed with Colonel Smaniotto who, promising to take a great

interest in the enterprise, gave orders for the transport to us of an

old “Voisin” lying in a park at the front with all equipment we thought

necessary.

Meanwhile, my beard was beginning to grow, and since I did not wish to

explain to any one the reasons for this adornment on my chin, and since

I knew there were many Venetian soldiers from the invaded regions in

the eighth Regiment of Bersaglieri, I asked Colonel Smaniotto to send

me for a short time to the trenches so that, being in personal contact

with those boys, I might the better get to know and choose the type

suitable for me as a companion. The choice of a partner in such an

undertaking is difficult, because beside the physical and moral

attributes and the courage necessary, he must be of a cool temperament,

at once calm and calculating, able to weigh well the importance of the

mission to which he is called, the dangers he is likely to face, not a

man guided merely by his sentiment of patriotism and his ardent desire

to get news of or possibly see again his beloved parents who have

remained on the other side.

Colonel Pirzio Biroli, who knew of our plan, gave me a long list of

willing Venetian soldiers. The choice was really difficult because

there were many of them, and I did not wish to compromise myself nor

let them know my plans. I kept the real reason for my presence in the

trenches a secret even from the officers of the regiment, telling them

that I had been delegated by the command to study the aerial activities

of our adversaries. I spent whole days conversing with the soldiers,

studying their character and seeking the man who seemed to possess the

complicated qualities I required. I discarded many at once who would be

of great value in an assault, but who did not show the necessary

seriousness. I told all of them that I sought the names of the soldiers

from the invaded region because the command was desirous of devising a

system whereby they would be able to communicate with their families

who had remained therein. In this way, I got them to talk to me, to ask

me anxiously about the fate of their villages, the condition of their

homes, and being an aviator, they believed I knew all secrets and could

tell them of the most intimate details which are hidden within the

houses. By a process of elimination I arrived at a small group of the

most willing of those whose homes were in the vicinity of Vittorio.

Among them there was one who seemed especially suitable, Giovanni

Bottecchia, born at San Martino di Colle but whose aunts live in a

little village which rests on the mountains near Vittorio. The little

village is A’Fregona and the wooded, uneven condition of the land,

which is far from any roads, was suited for my plans. He was a sturdy

youth, a trifle stubborn, as are all mountain folk of our regions, but

he was instilled with great love of his country and a deep sense of

responsibility. Whenever I spoke to him of what was taking place on the

other side, he became profoundly indignant. He hated the invader not

only because the invader had separated him from his family, because he

was stealing and pillaging everything, but above all because the hated

invader had violated our territory. So elevated a sentiment was

noteworthy in the simple heart of a soldier, and he was one of the few

who reacted so powerfully and so sincerely to my arguments. To test his

ability of keeping a secret, I told him a small part of our project,

and asked him not to tell anyone, not even the officers of the regiment

if they should ask him. I then requested Colonel Pirzio Biroli to send

for him and question him, to see if he would disclose anything.

Bottecchia did not reveal a single word; on the contrary he evaded the

questions of the Colonel with a certain diplomatic ability. This

seriousness, this ability of keeping a secret, this enthusiasm, were

truly exceptional qualities. The fact that the house of his parents was

in a convenient spot was a further asset. Another point in his favor

was the fact that he had been a driver and therefore knew every road

and path along the mountains. As I questioned him about well-known

places, on common trips, he answered with such exactness in every

detail that I was really astonished and gradually I persuaded myself

that if I was to have a companion I could not find a better one than he.

Gradually I disclosed to him my plan in every detail. His courage

instead of diminishing in the face of so many difficulties, increased.

He became enthusiastic. He asked me anxiously the day, the hour, when

we should begin our adventure, thus showing he was eager to hurl

himself at once into the greatest danger. To him I owed some important

bits of information, some suggestions and modifications in our plan. At

first I had decided to leave the camp disguised as a peasant, but

Bottecchia rightly remarked it would be better to remain in uniform and

carry our disguise under our arms, so that in case the Austrians were

to surprise us while alighting, we would not have to explain to them

our plan, but could say we were aviators who, after a nocturnal flight

to ascertain the conditions at the railroad station at Casarsa, had

been compelled to land because of a fault in the motor. The enemy would

not have time to notice our civilian clothes on the plane, for at the

first alarm, we would have made them disappear by means of a special

infernal machine with which our planes are equipped in case they have

to land in enemy territory.

V

I led a laborious, tranquil life with the command of the eighth

Bersaglieri which held the line from Fagare to Molino della Sega. Every

now and then there were slight surprise attacks at night and small

bombardments. During the day there was a little isolated shooting upon

the roads most frequented by our wagons, but otherwise there was

nothing abnormal, almost no indication that we were at war. So for many

weeks on many fronts this calm subsisted yet beneath its stillness what

great griefs, what sufferings, what trepidations lay hid!

The willow-trees put forth their first buds; spring came on apace. A

hawthorn bush about which the wire entanglements were twined, foamed,

snow-tinted, under the pale sky. A warm breeze, the lightest of March,

breathed from the South, and at the first cascades of song from larks,

singing as it seemed just beneath the low clouds, we felt faintly

calling in our hearts the echoes of the distant springtimes, now—save

in the moments of this brief episode of war—vanished from the memory

of a child grown man. In the afternoon we heard the first rumblings of

thunder, followed by large warm drops of rain which filled the air with

the smell of fresh earth newly trenched and with the fragrance of

primroses and violets sprouting among the first green leaves. Far off

in the background where the irate mountain seemed to support a curved

garland of clouds, I beheld, illumined by a slanting ray of light, the

cypresses which surround the castle of Conegliano, near which my house

stands. Everything proclaimed the unhinderable beauty of nature, the

joy of youth, were it yet possible even to sense this beauty and this

youth in the great cataclysm which surrounded us. That view and those

cypresses renewed within me the ardent desire to reach the other side.

I pointed out to Bottecchia the steeple of his village church, which

veiled itself far away among the distant vapor of clouds. And by this

sign we became two bosom companions joined by a firm bond of love and

friendship. We became two comrades, dedicated to the same cause, two

comrades whom nothing can stay in the fulfillment of their chosen duty.

Very slowly, so it seemed to me, the days passed by, perhaps because I

slept little at night. For then it was that many small details took

shape, many new angles of sight were discovered, many definite ideas

were formulated. In the morning my soldier and I met and communicated

to each other the experiences and thoughts of the previous night.

One morning I received a letter from Colonel Smaniotto saying that His

Excellency, assistant-Chief of Staff of the Army, Lieut. General

Badoglio was greatly interested in our undertaking and had given orders

that the “Voisin” be dispatched as soon as possible to the front, and

that it be equipped with a silencer reported marvelous. The Colonel

further entrusted me with the task of choosing from among the officers

of the eighth regiment of Bersaglieri some one who, were my venture a

success, would be disposed to attempt the same thing in the region

around Pordenone. After numerous considerations I turned my attention

to Lieutenant De Carli (strangest of coincidences in names!) who seemed

to me to possess the necessary qualities and who had left his mother in

the invaded territory at Tiezzo di Pordenone.

We Italians are truly a great people! He did not hesitate a second

before accepting my project. Without asking for any details he placed

himself at my disposal and merely requested that he be permitted to

take with him his brother, a corporal serving in his company. After

seeing such ardor and such frenzy not to leave a thing undone which

might help drive the enemy from our lands, I became more and more

convinced that it was merely a matter of time before we should achieve

that victory for which we had been summoned.

With the two De Carli brothers and my soldier I returned to headquarters

because there were still many points to be settled, especially what

means of communication we should adopt when we had reached the other

side. From numerous reports it seemed that the time set for the great

Austrian offensive was not far distant, the offensive destined

definitely to crush our army and enable the enemy to turn all his

strength against France. We must be ready before that offensive.

As I did not wish to tell anyone of our plans, and since a large staff

usually ends by knowing all, we decided to establish ourselves in the

prisoners’ concentration camp at Capella where there were a few

officers who were used to silence and discretion. We were living in a

small isolated house, outside the village, and this house had become

the forge where weapons fatal to the enemy were being shaped. Methods

of communication must now be studied. Signaling by night with lights

had to be eliminated because the zone in which I decided to act was in

a small hollow surrounded by hills and so dominated by them that any

lights would be readily visible from them. More appropriate seemed the

method of communicating by means of sheets placed on the ground

according to schedule. Bottecchia told me that near the house in which

his aunts live there was a small brook and in this brook the wash-women

usually did their laundering. The wash was probably laid on the grass

near the brook to dry. I did not see why the Austrians should suspect

an innocuous sheet of conveying information to our command. By taking

as a point of reference a field which could be easily identified, why

would it not be possible to lay the sheets on it in such a manner as to

convey a special meaning to our command? Several aeroplanes were then

sent to photograph the regions selected by us, and in the enlarged

photographs the brook was plainly visible. One could see the house of

my soldier’s aunts, the little bridge which passes over the Friga, and

a small group of houses near a mill, marked on a map of one to

twenty-five thousandth scale. Near this group of houses there was a

large patch of ground which was very distinct in the photograph and

which was but a slight distance from the river. I believed it would be

suitable to indicate on it by means of sheets what we wished to convey

to our command. There were but a few things which would have to be

communicated. A sheet on the southwestern corner of the field would

indicate, “offensive imminent from the side of Montello”; a white sheet

on the southeastern corner would signify “calm”; a sheet on the

northwestern angle of the field would indicate, “enemy troops are

moving towards the plain”; a sheet on the northeastern corner would

mean, “enemy troops are moving towards the mountains”; a sheet placed

in the center of the field would mean, “German reinforcements are

arriving.” Our aeroplanes would come by day and photograph our signals.

The only difficulty lay in the possible discovery of our plan by the

enemy, and its use by the enemy to cheat our command. We must provide

against such a possibility. We therefore decided that the signals be

disposed at different hours every day. If the signals were not placed

in the established hours, then they were to be disregarded. So, even if

the enemy were to discover our system of signals, he could never wrest

from us a confession of the hours in which the signals were to have

been placed. But, although this means of communication might be very

useful during a battle, it is at bottom little more than a very crude,

elementary method for transmitting information.

For communicating more detailed, interesting information, we decided to

rely on carrier pigeons. It would not be easy for us, besides our

clothing and money, to carry pigeons with us, and furthermore, it would

be absolutely impossible to travel for twenty miles in enemy territory

with birds which in case of capture would at once reveal to the enemy

our intentions. We must find some system for delivering the birds on

the territory established as our headquarters. After numerous

experiments we adopted the following method: the birds were to be

closed in little cages in which had been placed paper, pencil and small

bags with their food; these birds were to be dropped at night, by means

of parachutes, from our aeroplanes, but in order not to arouse the

suspicion of the enemy that these birds had been thrown down for

special informers, there was to be placed in every cage a photograph

demonstrating the method of holding the pigeon and of attaching the

message to its leg, together with a printed bulletin addressed to the

people of Veneto. This bulletin was to ask the good peasants for help

in effecting their liberation, and for answers to the following

questions—“What troops are quartered in your vicinity? Have you seen

any cannon pass? When will the offensive begin?”—and many other

similar questions; at the end, the bulletin was to announce that after

the war, prizes were to be awarded to those who could prove that they

sent messages by means of the pigeons.

That the enemy might not discover our abode, the pigeons were to be

thrown down not only on our field, but casually throughout the invaded

region. Since the enemy might make use of this means too, of deceiving

us, and of communicating false reports as to its intentions, we

therefore, studied a code with which to express numbers, and a system

of interpolating insignificant words after a given number of words, so

that before a pigeon-message could be declared authentic, it must pass

certain tests. Thus even if the enemy were to succeed in discovering

part of our secret, he could never send messages so correct in every

detail that they would not be recognized as frauds by our command. I

further decided to number progressively all my pigeon-messages and to

sign them with the coined word, “Genga,” or the phrase, “An Italian.”

On May 1st, while we were conferring together at Campo de Capella, we

had a pleasant surprise. Suddenly, when we least expected it, we heard

the noise of an aeroplane passing low over us. The noise of the motor

sounded familiar, like the round, tranquil thump of the “Isotta,” and

as I raised my head I saw a “Voisin” spiraling about a hundred yards

above us, and an arm stretched from the pilot’s seat waving gaily at

us. At last, we realized that Gelmetti after so many hunts and searches

had succeeded in finding a plane and had brought it from Camp Poggio

Renatico to the front. This was a great step forward, because we would

be able to begin many necessary trials with the apparatus. We must make

the first trial for weight, and then several trials for landing at

night without the use of searchlights, and with the use of the

silencer. I therefore thought it would be better for us to transport

our tents to the aviation camp at Marcon which is not far from the army

and is suited for such experiments.

We were already furnished with our civilian clothes. Mine consisted of

a coarse shirt of wool, a pair of wide trousers of striped velvet like

those used by our mountaineers, a jacket and vest cut in peasant

fashion, and a soft felt hat. I put my disguise on trial by crossing a

field where there were many soldiers who knew me in my regular outfit

and without a beard. I noticed that many of them stared at me in

surprise without recognizing this peasant who walked slowly, dragging

his legs along heavily, as though he were worn out. Between my teeth I

held a small earthen pipe, I am happy that I passed unrecognized. Even

Gelmetti who was resting in the Hangar near his “Spad” was surprised

and astonished to see suddenly standing before him this mountaineer

whom he did not at once recognize.

I did not believe our departure was far distant. All the reports we had

been able to gather recently told of gigantic preparations by the enemy

for an early offensive against us. The Austrians for several months had

been gradually increasing the number of their guns, and new arrivals

from the eastern Roumanian front were continually reported.

The political reasons for this offensive were the great discontent

manifest in all the provinces of Austria because of the scarcity of

food supplies, and the belief, which gradually undermined the morale of

our enemies, that a decisive victory against the Allies was impossible.

The most hostile forces then within the enemy lines were the factions

which have furnished the best troops. The Hungarians had a deep hatred

against Germany, whom they accuse of being the originator of all their

troubles. A newspaper from Budapest mentioned that the drive must be

finished before the great weight of America could make itself felt in

the balance. Therefore, the supreme command of our adversaries was

about to exert itself to the full in speeding the decisive drive on our

front, in the hope that this drive would bring to it not only a victory

of arms, but the conciliation of the hostile, troublesome factions

which were ever becoming more formidable and threatening. Were the

Austrians to succeed in crushing the Italian army, they would throw all

their strength against the southern end of the line in France, and then

the Allied forces, enclosed in the iron circle of Germans on the north

and Austrians on the south, would have to succumb. The officers of the

Austrian staff were confident that they would find our army in the low

spirits in which they found it at the battle of Caporetto. They knew

not that after our magnificent resistance in November and December a

new spirit of moral and material regeneration swept over our soldiers.

Furthermore, our great military machine had effected a thorough

reorganization. The treatment of the troops, the tactical method, the

equipment, the distribution of supplies—all these branches had been

reorganized by wise adaptions of such a kind as to inspire confidence

among the soldiers in their officers and ensure the ultimate victory of

our arms. But we were not to delude ourselves, nor lightly underrate

the imminent danger which threatened us; we had to realize that the

formation of our front would not permit us to withdraw one inch. We

were holding onto the last position in which our stand could be

efficacious. If the Austrians were to succeed in driving us from this

position a great retreat would be necessary, and even if this retreat

were to succeed in saving the army from complete disaster, the new

lines would have to be established far inland on the Mincio or the Po,

and our failure to hold the first position would mean the sacrifice of

Italy’s most beautiful and richest regions, and among them Venice would

have to be ceded to the enemy.

Venice! At the mention of this name my Italian heart cannot but be

set beating! It was absolutely inconceivable, it was absolutely

inadmissible that the barbarian be permitted to trample with feet of

iron the pavements of our squares and our churches. Better were it for

us all to perish rather than permit the German Emperor to issue from

the Doge’s Palace a proclamation of challenge and victory! But the

configuration of our front was terribly against us. Our curved front

which formed a strong salient from the Astico to the sea gave the

Austrians the strategic advantage of being able to launch two attacks

simultaneously in two converging directions, from the mountain and from

the Piave across the plains. If the attack were successful in one of

the two directions, that fact sufficed to cause the downfall of the

other sector. The victorious enemy troops having accomplished a

“break-through” one side of the salient would at once execute a

flanking movement in such a manner that the rest of the front would be

compelled to surrender. The maneuver of Caporetto might be repeated to

our disadvantage, and this time the defeat would be decisive because

the Allies, barely capable of holding back the Germans in France, would

not be able to send a single man to our assistance. Therefore, our

surveillance was becoming all the more anxious, our chiefs more strict

in their reports to the generalissimo of the doings in the various

sectors, and I—I should have the honor of taking part in so great a

drama, I should have the honor of trying to frustrate the enemy designs.

The incidence of numerical strength was greatly to our disadvantage,

for the Austrian army mustered about twenty divisions more than we had.

We would therefore have to dispose of our troops with the greatest

care. Our reserves would have to be concentrated in a central camp

whence they could be readily sent to the section of the front where the

enemy seemed most threatening. There would have to be no doubts, no

hesitations on the part of our leaders; not a single man ought to be

moved to no purpose. It was absolutely necessary for us to know the

enemy’s plan of attack, that we might concentrate every soldier we

could on whatever sector the supreme blow was to be expected. To

discover this plan and report it was my task; a task of danger, a task

of honor, the supreme privilege of a man consecrated to his country, of

a soldier sworn to the faith of the soldier.