to mistake for a mere hurricane
of confused commotion. Within five minutes Captain Medola came up to me
and said that the Colonel had ordered him to drag our tractor and guns.
Medola was in command of a Battery of long guns, and had one of these
attached to a powerful tractor on the road in front of us. To this long
gun, therefore, we now attached our tractor, useless as a tractor but
containing valuable gun stores, and our three guns. It was a tremendous
strain for one tractor, however strong, to pull, and we decided a little
later to abandon our own tractor and most of its contents.

Medola, having handed over his horse to an orderly, who was to ride on
ahead and arrange for a fresh supply of petrol for his tractors, of
which there were three, mounted the front of the leading tractor and I
got up beside him. He rendered us most invaluable help in a most willing
spirit and at considerable risk to himself. For he undoubtedly had to go
much more slowly with us in tow than he could have gone if he had been
alone.

We saw another Battery of Italian heavy guns going along the road,
heavier than either ours or Medola's. They were an ancient type, which
we had seen sometimes on the Carso, and not of very high military value.
But their gunners took a regimental and affectionate pride in those old
guns. They had neither tractors nor horses, but they had dragged their
beloved pieces for thirty miles from the rocky heights of the Carso,
along good roads and bad, up and down hill, through impossible traffic
blocks, down on to the plains as far as Palmanova, with nothing but long
ropes and their own strong arms. They had forty men hauling on each gun.
At Palmanova new hauling parties had been put on, who dragged the guns
another thirty miles to the far side of the Tagliamento at Latisana. And
as they hauled, they sang, until they were too tired to go on singing,
and could only raise, from time to time, their rhythmical periodic cry
of "Sforza!... Sforza!"[1]

[Footnote 1: "Heave!... Heave!"]

As we passed through Muzzano, the town and road were heavily bombed. The
bell in the campanile jangled wildly and weeping women crowded into the
church, as though thinking to find sanctuary there. Others stood gazing
helplessly up into the sky. Here I saw some Italian Infantry, mostly
young, who were delighted to be retreating. "Forward, you militarists!"
they cried to us as we passed. "This is your punishment! How much longer
do you thin