The greatest air raid of all the forty-five which Venice had endured
since the war's beginning was that of the night of Feb. 26-27, 1918. It
lasted eight hours--from 10:20 to 6:15 A. M.--and there was not a single
interval of more than half an hour during all that time of brilliant
moonlight in which bombs were not falling on the city. There were 300 in
all. Thirty-eight houses were smashed, the Royal Palace was struck, one
wing of an old people's home was blown to pieces, and three churches
were damaged, including that of St. Chrysostom, in which an altar with
one of Cellini's last landscapes was wrecked. Fifteen bombs fell near
the Doges' Palace, one barely missing the Bridge of Sighs and falling
into the narrow canal which it spans. Ten bombs fell around the Rialto
Bridge. About fifteen civilians were wounded seriously, including two
women. Only one man was killed, thanks to the promptness with which the
Venetians now take shelter.
According to the official account at least fifty airplanes took part in
the raid, and some of these returned again and again, bringing fresh
cargoes of bombs throughout the night. The Austrian lines are so near
that the trip to the bomb bases and back again requires only twenty-five
minutes, and this was the average length of the intervals between the
bombardments. G. Ward Price, a war correspondent, in describing the
experiences of that night, wrote:
"Suddenly another crash re-echoed throughout the city, and the din of
the bombardment started once more. I followed the quickly vanishing
throng through an archway, where a green light marked a place of
shelter. For two hours I was part of a close-packed throng in the dark
vaulted room. There were women and wide-eyed children there in plenty,
tired out with the long standing, which for them lasted until dawn, but
none showing alarm, though, in addition to the nerve trying din outside,
a constant shower of pieces of shell and flying bits of masonry whirred
and pelted and pattered down incessantly outside.