ys of fresh drivers took over all the
lorries and tractors which would still go. The rest went into the ditch
on top of the dead horses and derelict carts. The heavier loads which
single tractors had been pulling were split up between two or more. In a
surprisingly short time the whole mass began to move.

Here I parted from Medola, who had been a very good friend to us. Our
three guns got a new tractor to themselves and I got up beside the
driver. And so at last we entered Latisana. Our new driver was immensely
enthusiastic, but very excited. He told me that he had had two brothers
killed in the war and had applied, when the retreat began, to be
transferred from Mechanical Transport to the Infantry. That morning, he
said, he had heard General Pettiti, who was our Army Corps Commander,
give the order that all the British Batteries must first be got across
the river and only then the Italian. I said that I saw no good reason
for this preference, but that anyhow he was driving the last three
British guns. This pleased him tremendously. By now I was wrapped up in
a new and dry Italian blanket, which I had taken from an abandoned cart
by the roadside.

Our tractor, less enthusiastic than its driver, broke down continually.
It was rumoured that the bridge had been blown up already, and there
were wild screams of despair from a crowd of women, who came running
past us. At last we turned the last corner and came in sight of the
Tagliamento. The bridge was still intact. Italian Generals were rushing
to and fro, gesticulating, giving orders. General Pettiti sent a
special orderly to ask me if mine were the last British guns. I told him
yes. Our tractor broke down three times on the bridge itself. But at
last we were over. One of our party had an Italian flag and waved it and
cried "Viva l'Italia!" Not long after, the bridge went up, with an
explosion that could be heard for miles around.

CHAPTER XXIII

FROM THE TAGLIAMENTO TO TREVISO

I heard later that the Major and his party had reached Latisana the
previous day. Winterton had joined them near Muzzano. They had marched
for forty-eight hours practically without food and with only some three
hours' rest in stray halts. They had been magnificent, but they were
utterly done, and the Major, who had been most done of all, told me
afterwards that it had made him cry to watch them hobbling along,--some
of them men too old or of too low a medical category to have passed for