XIX

Towards evening, when a light breeze made breathing more easy, I heard

the leaves rustle and found Rino in front of me with provisions and

good news. I could eat very little for I was too weak, but the little I

did eat, gave me new strength. Rino told me that Bottecchia was still

alive, that they had ceased beating him and that they brought him to

the headquarters at Vittorio where they confronted him with his sister.

She answered very ably to a long, strenuous examination. She made a

false confession that Giovannino had been taken prisoner in the last

offensive in June; that she had procured the false papers which they

had found on him by sending to the headquarters at Tappa di Vittorio a

peasant classified unfit for military service who greatly resembled her

brother, that this peasant had obtained a legitimization paper and had

passed it on to Giovannino. The Austrian authorities with unusual

clemency had believed her tale, had set her free, and had kept my

soldier as a prisoner of war. No aeroplane had come to give a smoke

signal. Furthermore, Rino told me that everything seemed more peaceful,

but I could put little faith in this for I feared that under the calm a

storm was brewing. I consented to follow him for it was absolutely

impossible for me to continue living under present conditions, and

because I had to be nearer friends, and had to be better informed of

what was happening, to see what shape events were taking.

Therefore, after having decided that the “Voisin” would not keep its

appointment, I returned to Fregona and again visited Maria de Luca, the

good woman who had already helped me so much. She was not in the least

impressed by all that had happened and she offered to give me lodgings

in her house where the gendarmes had not entered for a long time. I

willingly accepted, also because I thought that by being near Vittorio

I might be able to help Giovannino escape. On the very day I arrived,

when we least expected it, a platoon of gendarmes arrived and asked to

search the house for hidden metals. I barely had time to go from the

cellar to the stable and climb up to the hay-loft before they entered.

I buried myself in the hay close to the wall where the hay was

thickest. The gendarmes entered the house, examined every inch without

leaving a thing unturned. Finally, as they did not find what they were

searching for, they came to the barn, and as they climbed up the stairs

to the hay-loft, I heard one of them mumble in German, “Still, he must

be here, I am certain.” Without hesitating a second they began digging

their bayonets in the hay to see if someone were hidden in it. I

crouched as close to the wall as possible and heard the sharp points

pass a few inches above my head. At last they went! I drew a long

breath and the close call I had just had made me think of the future. I

decided not to be over-confident. This visit probably was the first of

a series of other careful searches, and therefore, I had better keep my

eyes open and try every means of escaping from their vigilance. I

shaved off my mustache, put on a worn, patched skirt, a torn waist and

a black handkerchief on my head, as is the custom of our peasant women,

and with a hoe on my shoulder I went towards the grain fields on the

hill. I crouched between two furrows and pretended to work so that a

passing gendarme would never suspect that the ugly old woman working

with her shoulders towards him was the man with the beard whom they

were hunting. But even this disguise had its disadvantages. I should

not have liked to meet a gendarme in the woods at night while dressed

as a woman. I looked like an old hag, but one never can tell. I

appealed for another disguise to wear at night to a cousin of Maria de

Luca who lived at Fregona and who mended all the uniforms of the

transient soldiers who stopped there. I acquired one of the Italian

uniforms left in a house by one of our soldiers at the time of the

retreat and I sent it to this seamstress asking her to make the changes

necessary for transforming it into an Austrian uniform. The son of my

landlady had a rifle and some German cartridges stolen from the Germans

during the first days of the invasion. To please me he dug up the

weapon and the shoulder straps from the wheat-field where they had been

buried. With this and the help of a yellow and black band on which the

magic word “Gendarmerie” had been written I became a perfect Austrian

gendarme in flesh and bones. Naturally I did not use this disguise in

the day-time. As long as it was light I would stay hidden under a

projecting rock concealed by shrubs which one could reach after a long,

difficult and rough ascent. This little promontory was almost

inaccessible, a veritable eagle’s nest. Nevertheless, during the

dangerous hours the children would station themselves at points from

which they could dominate the movement on the roads and as soon as they

saw a platoon of gendarmes approaching they would make a certain noise

and I would hide under the bushes where I was certain no one would find

me. By night, however, I would take long walks about the country to

exercise my legs and to visit the people I wanted to see. I then also

exercised my gendarme’s privilege of searching for pigeons.

As I walked in the woods at night disguised as a gendarme, to avoid

meeting anyone, I occasionally fired a shot in air. For deserters and

prisoners, on hearing these shots, would flee in the direction opposite

to the one from which the shot is fired, and the very gendarmes, who

amused themselves by frightening the population in this way and then

entering their houses to steal, avoided the area in which they have

heard the shots supposing that some of their comrades are there

already. In these nocturnal peregrinations I communicated with the

community teacher and doctor at Fregona, and together with the pastor

we plotted a means for attempting to escape. Although I had taken all

these precautions not to be discovered, someone might be shadowing me

and referring my every move to the Austrians. I learnt, for instance,

that the enemy knew that my beard had been cut. Therefore, I should

have to be even more careful and not let anyone see me.

In the middle of the night when all were asleep, very cautiously I

approached the house of Maria de Luca. I climbed up and entered the

hay-loft, thence I descended to the stable, from the stable to the

cellar and finally entered the kitchen without making the least noise.

By day now I did not feel safe even in my secluded hiding-place. I

dared not stop for more than an hour anywhere and I wandered from hill

to hill from wood to wood to hide my tracks. I tried to change my

disguise as often as possible. Generally by day I went dressed as a

woman and by night as a gendarme. I had become convinced that even the

clemency used towards the sister of Giovannino was nothing but a

feint done in the hope that the poor woman would try to get into

communication again with her accomplices, through whom they hoped

finally to reach the head of the band, the notorious man with the

beard. Therefore, I broke all relations with Minelle and the house of

the refugees. Occasionally, however, Rino came at night to meet me on

the hill and these were the only moments in which I enjoyed a bit of

calm, a bit of rest.

One day, after returning from a more strenuous walk than usual, I felt

dizzy, chills came over me and soon a fever so strong seized me that I

became delirious.... I remember only the sweet face of a woman bending

over my pillow during the long hours filled with terrible nightmares; I

remember a charitable hand to which I clung desperately while gasping

for breath; then the awakening, the quick convalescence in a

comfortable bed surrounded by the whispers of many anxious friends who

hoped for my speedy recovery.... Later I learnt that I had had the

influenza, that I had been near death, and that I owed my recovery to

the intelligent care of the doctor of Fregona and the affectionate care

of the good Maria who had tended me as carefully as though she had been

my own mother. I later learned that while I was sick with very high

fever the gendarmes came to search the house. The women carried me

on a mattress to the cellar where they hid me under a huge cask.

Fortunately, the gendarmes were contented with a less detailed search

than formerly and with my usual good fortune I miraculously escaped the

danger of being taken.

One evening while I was still convalescing and as we were seated about

the fire, talking, we heard sharp knocks at the door. I ran to hide at

once but Maria shortly after came and told me there was no danger, that

our visitors were four Italian sergeants who had escaped from the

concentration camp at Consiglio and had come to ask for something to

eat and the road to Vidor where they wanted to try to cross the Piave.

I returned and found myself face to face with the fugitives. Three of

them had the worn, tired look of most prisoners, but one looked healthy

and sturdy and as if he had not suffered much.

“I am a sergeant in the artillery taken prisoner during the last

offensive. My name is Italo Maggi and I was born at Como, therefore, I

can swim like a fish and can row well because I was a boatman on the

lake. These three men, who are not at home in the water, have placed

their trust in me because they hope I shall be able to get them over to

the other side. We don’t care if a stray shot hits us, what we do want

is to get out of the hands of these tyrants.”

Truly this man must have been sent to me by the divine Providence. In

our last attempt we had not succeeded in passing because none of us

could swim well enough to face so turbulent a stream. But, with the

help of the sergeant I was certain to succeed. I could be useful to him

as a guide for I knew a place where we could cross and then I would

trust to the strength of his robust arms to carry us across. But the

other men would be in the way, for experience had taught me that in

ventures of such a nature the group must be small. I, therefore, called

Italo aside and briefly explained to him that I was an Italian officer,

that I knew the road to the Piave very well and that I could obtain

some civilian clothes or an Austrian uniform for him, according to what

disguise he would decide to wear. My physical condition then was such

that I could not travel so I begged him not to abandon me but to wait a

few days. We would then complete the details of our plan and let the

others journey alone and try their luck. I hesitated for a long time

before forsaking them but at times the necessities of war are cruel. I

had no way of getting either the food or the clothing necessary for

enabling them to attempt the venture. To journey with them in their

actual condition would have meant certain seizure. On the other hand by

placing my services at the disposal of Italo I was certain I could

bring him and myself to safety. The sergeant accepted at once and

placed himself at my disposal. We dressed him in civilian clothes and

he wandered about with me for several days while we waited until the

uniform of an Austrian soldier was prepared for him.

At the last moment we changed our plan; my sergeant was to be dressed

as a civilian and was to follow behind me so that if we were to meet a

gendarme he, who did not know German, would pretend he was a prisoner,

and I, dressed as an Austrian soldier, would pretend I was the gendarme

who had arrested him.