n horse with the composition, and then you will
understand why the Austrians can't see the Italian soldiers in broad
daylight at fifty yards." Its quality of invisibility is, indeed,
positively uncanny. While motoring in the war zone I have repeatedly
come upon bodies of troops resting beside the road, yet, so
marvellously do their uniforms merge into the landscape that, had not
my attention been called to them, I should have passed them by
unnoticed. The uniform of the Italian officer is of precisely the
same cut and apparently of the same material as that of the men, and
as the former not infrequently dispenses with the badges of rank, it
is often difficult to distinguish an officer from a private. The
Italian officers, particularly those of the cavalry regiments, have
always been among the smartest in Europe, but the gorgeous uniforms
which, in the happy, carefree days before the war, added such
brilliant notes of color to the scenes on the Corso and in the
Cascine, have been replaced by a dress which is as simple as it is
serviceable.

The Italian Government has a stern objection to wasteful or unnecessary
expenditure, and all the costly and superfluous trimmings so dear to
the heart of the military have been ruthlessly pruned. But economy is
not insisted upon at the expense of efficiency. Nothing is refused or
stinted that is necessary to keep the soldiers in good health or that
will add to the efficiency of the great fighting-machine. But the war
is proving a heavy financial strain for Italy and she is determined not
to waste on it a single soldo more than she can possibly help. On the
French and British fronts staff-officers are constantly dashing to and
fro in motor-cars on errands of more or less importance. But you see
nothing of that sort in the Italian war zone. The Comando Supremo can,
of course, have all the motor-cars it wants, but it discourages their
use except in cases of necessity. The officers are instructed that,
whenever they can travel by railway without detriment to the interests
of the service, they are expected to do so, for the trains are in
operation to within a few miles of the front and with astonishing
regularity, whereas tires and gasolene cost money. Returning at
nightfall from the front to Udine, we were nearly always stopped by
officers--majors, colonels, and once by a general--who would ask us to
give them a lift into town. It has long been the fashion among
foreigners to think of It