Part 4
I wished to examine the photographic chart of the flooded region in which I had decided to land with my boat, that I might discover whether a landing was possible. No easy thing to discern from a photograph where there is or is not water! I deemed it best to examine the topographical chart compiled from a careful study of the photographs. Only a few roads emerged from the flooded regions. There were many houses completely surrounded by water. Also from the information I received from Lieut. Zannini, I learned that several families were living isolated in their houses surrounded by water, but since they have set aside certain provisions they welcome the peculiar conditions which prevent more frequent visits from the Austrians. Granted that I arrived as far as the shore with my boat, it was a doubtful matter whether I should find it possible to navigate the flooded district, since there were but the fewest places of reference by which I might take my bearings. What if, instead, after landing, I were to proceed on foot along one of the roads which had not been flooded? Even this idea, which at first seemed feasible I was forced to abandon, because it was more than probable that the Austrians had placed sentinels along the scattered roads, and it is impossible to force a passage on a road even if there is but one armed man guarding it. In case I were discovered where could I try to escape? Certainly not in the water which would be surrounding me on every side.
From Commander Granaffei, who has charge of our army’s affairs with the fleet, I learned that during the night one of our silent motor boats often succeeded in getting very near the shore along Caorle. This motor boat, beside its regular motors, is equipped with an electric motor which is absolutely noiseless. Why not make the attempt in one of these? If a landing at Caorle, which is at a short distance from our lines, was not possible, why not try to penetrate with the motor boat, farther along the coast where the surveillance of the enemy was assuredly less strict?
Upon examining the map I discovered an admirable spot: the pinegrove which is near the mouth of the Tagliamento. I pictured myself arriving there by night, taking cover in the woods, tranquilly awaiting the rising of the sun that I might study my bearings and then calmly start upon my journey. But alas! There was another difficulty. The mouth of the Tagliamento is more than sixty miles distant from Vittorio, which was the place I had selected as the base from which to begin my work of observation. Sixty miles, which are trifling under normal conditions, become an enormous distance when in enemy territory. For it becomes necessary in traversing so long a tract to enlist the services of too many people; the spy’s secret must be revealed at least in part to too many persons, and although I am absolutely convinced of the loyalty of our people, although I have had numerous proofs that they have risked and suffered all to shield our men, yet who shall assure me that in so vast a zone, among so many people there is not one traitor, one who, not so much to harm me personally as to injure some enemy of his with whom I may have chanced to sojourn, will spy on me? Furthermore it became evident to me that not until I had with my own eyes observed the habits of the enemy, scrutinizing them at work in their own camps, would it become possible for me to wander collecting the necessary information in person. Until I had come in actual contact with them, I believed it were better for me to remain hidden and to use others for my purposes. It did not seem as if the best way in which to make my debut were to travel over sixty miles of enemy territory, through a zone which would undoubtedly be strictly guarded, in that this territory adjoined the area in which were the bridges, railroads, and the roads along which the enemy was transporting all his new material toward the front.
Upon these considerations, I became convinced that to facilitate the enterprise, it would be necessary for me to set foot in enemy territory not far from the place chosen as general headquarters. The only medium then which would permit me to land not far from Vittorio was the aeroplane. The flats however not far from Vittorio, would facilitate greatly the work of my pilot. Obviously the landing could not be effected during the day time; it would therefore have to be essayed at night. But here again were new difficulties, for night-landings are usually made with the aid of searchlights so that, apart from all other considerations, a landing would be difficult by the uncertain light of the moon on a landing spot never yet adventured by a pilot.
On examining the map there appeared several fields deemed suitable for the attempt. Near our lines is the aerodrome of Case San Felice where the Austrians during the first days of the retreat had established their hangars, because they believed our supplies of artillery of high caliber to be so depleted that we would not molest them. A vain belief! For I have reason to know that they were not a little surprised when one morning they heard arrive overhead many shots from a naval “152.” (I had suggested that series for I could not tolerate the fact that the Germans had adopted as their alighting camp an aerodrome which belonged to me.) After that morning, the enemy aviators transported their tents farther back. But the camp remained, and inasmuch as several days ago Austrian planes had landed on the field it seemed highly probable that there had been no recent works such as would obstruct the landing of a plane. At times, a small hole, a rock, or a bush is enough to so damage an aeroplane that it cannot again lift from the field. In my case, it was absolutely essential that our aeroplane land in such a manner as for it to be able to be up and away again immediately. For what would become of us if for any reason we were compelled to remain on the other side?
The field of San Felice had moreover the advantage of being little more than a mile distant from one of our farm houses. The inhabitants of this farm house were truly devoted to us and the overseer, whose name was Bellotto, had been in his youth my father’s coachman, and was greatly attached to him. But since (there are difficulties in every plan) the field was situated near several houses and very near the highway from Conegliano to Cimetta, which had undoubtedly become one of the main arteries for enemy traffic, I did not know whether it would be wise to alight in a field so near dwellings and a main highway. On the other hand, I was convinced that the surveillance near the front would be heavier, and who knows but that near Case San Felice there may be some piece of Austrian artillery of large caliber? It really would be too discouraging, if after having organized and planned every detail we should be taken prisoners at once. No, I believed that it was absolutely necessary for the landing place to be near Vittorio, but in a zone less frequented by the enemy. The zone which I believed more suitable to my purpose was the hilly, wooded section of the near Alps which surround Vittorio. For the little city of Vittorio lies at the foot of the Venetian Alps. It consists of two villages, Ceneda and Serravalle and is all surrounded by hills. The village of Ceneda extends over the plains, whereas that of Serravalle lies where the valley narrows. The river Meschio flows through Vittorio. The outskirts of Serravalle rest on the Venetian Alps and on the great road d’Alemagna which rises at the pass of Fadalto and divides the mass of the Visentin hill from that of Cansiglio.
There are many lakes in this region. The Fadalto Pass is between Lake Morto and the Lake of Santa Croce. From Santa Croce to Vittorio there are not more than ten miles of steep ascent. Another idea occurred to me; why not make use of a hydroplane?... and descend on the Lake of Santa Croce? Even this idea which at first seemed plausible had to be discarded for several reasons. Although the hydroplane can at times penetrate into inland regions, it is not a very practical means of locomotion when away from the sea. In our case we would have to travel forty miles to arrive at the determined spot. It did not seem advisable to venture out at night into a confused, mountainous region, and furthermore, the wings might, by the light of the moon, be clearly mirrored in the water and so be visible to the enemy, and even did we succeed in landing on the water unobserved, how could I reach the shore?
Therefore I considered instead the zone which lies at the foot of Mount Cavallo, north of Pordenone. The heath of Aviano, which is not more than twenty miles from Vittorio, is very extensive and has numerous places suitable for landings. In fact before the retreat, we had at Comina and at Aviano our largest aviation camps for bombing-planes. Almost all the expeditions of Caproni planes which bombed Pola left from those two camps. The ground is both in good condition and extensive and although there are numerous little streams, these do not afford serious obstacles since they are clearly visible. The region is almost entirely uninhabited and there was no reason to believe that the Austrians had erected any special construction which might annoy us. If we could land in a field between Fontana Fredda and Aviano, we might try to reach the mountain quickly. The fording of the Livenza River would not give us much trouble, for we could trace it almost to its source. On examining the map, the best point for a crossing seemed to be between Polcenigo and Sarone.
Many matters had to be taken into consideration in order that my plans might be successful. I had first to find a suitable place, then a pilot with such attributes as an aviator and soldier as would enable him to face the many surprises of the undertaking. No type of plane with the propeller in front could be considered, because a landing with such a plane at night is far more difficult, since the pilot cannot see the ground in front of him. Both the “Pomilio” and the “Saml” which were at our disposal were not especially suitable for the kind of descent which we would have to make. Our plane must be capable of carrying three persons, because I had absolutely decided to take with me a soldier from the invaded regions. This soldier would be of great help to me, and if I decided to stop at some farm house, it would be doubly safe to stop with the parents of this soldier, that our hosts might have a double reason for protecting me and for shielding me if, with my life, the life of one of their own is coupled.
The plane which I deemed would be especially suitable for this operation was the “Voisin,” an old type of machine no longer in much use because it is too slow and has not much power of “climb.” But in my case neither great speed nor great height was needed. What I did need was a sturdy plane equipped with a truly powerful undercarriage. The “Voisin” rests on four wheels which support the “cabane” and four powerful springs of steel fasten the wheels to the fuselage. I have seen several accidents with a “Voisin,” but in many cases the sturdiness of the undercarriage has saved the aviators who, with another plane, would have met with certain death. The “Voisin” is constructed wholly of steel, and I myself had the opportunity of testing its resistance in one of my early flights when, through an error in judgment as to our height on the part of the pilot we struck the top branches of a tree. The steel skeleton of the wings resisted the blow and we had the supreme joy of landing on the ground with our wings covered with the many leaves which we had loosened with our speed.
In regard to the pilot, I had a certain one in mind, Umberto Gelmetti, a Captain in the Bersaglieri, who was in my squadron during those glorious twenty-five days when we battled and conquered in the sky over the Carso. He was now with one of the chasing machines, but still an efficient pilot of the “Voisin.” He might prove a suitable pilot. He was an expert and there was no feat too daring for him to attempt.
On February 27th I went to Captain Gelmetti and I laid my proposal point-blank before him. He accepted the general outline of the plan but wished to confer as to details. My first idea was, starting from our territory, to soar to a great altitude over the established field, then, with engine cut out, to volplane to earth. Captain Gelmetti remarked that although this method had the advantage of not making any noise, it had other difficulties. With our motor “ticking over” we could, if at the last moment we were to spy an obstacle, at once take flight again. For instance, were we when about to land within observation of Austrians encamped, we should have a chance of escaping were our motor in motion, whereas, with motor stopped we should be compelled to accept our fate. Furthermore who would swing the propeller to start our motor again? At times it will take several minutes to set a propeller going and we in enemy territory would certainly have no time to lose. We might use a small magneto as a self-starter, but such systems are but uncertain resources with aeroplanes in their present state of development, and furthermore, after making a descent with a propeller not in motion our motor would have “gone cold,” and we would still be compelled to run the engine for some time upon the ground “to warm her up.” This unusual noise would attract the attention of the Austrians. The only means for overcoming all difficulties was to apply such a powerful silencer to the plane as would deaden the noise of the motor, so that while descending, with the engine making but few revolutions, the firing of the engine would scarcely be heard and there would only remain the rustle of the propeller. All these considerations were discussed with Colonel Smaniotto who, promising to take a great interest in the enterprise, gave orders for the transport to us of an old “Voisin” lying in a park at the front with all equipment we thought necessary.
Meanwhile, my beard was beginning to grow, and since I did not wish to explain to any one the reasons for this adornment on my chin, and since I knew there were many Venetian soldiers from the invaded regions in the eighth Regiment of Bersaglieri, I asked Colonel Smaniotto to send me for a short time to the trenches so that, being in personal contact with those boys, I might the better get to know and choose the type suitable for me as a companion. The choice of a partner in such an undertaking is difficult, because beside the physical and moral attributes and the courage necessary, he must be of a cool temperament, at once calm and calculating, able to weigh well the importance of the mission to which he is called, the dangers he is likely to face, not a man guided merely by his sentiment of patriotism and his ardent desire to get news of or possibly see again his beloved parents who have remained on the other side.
Colonel Pirzio Biroli, who knew of our plan, gave me a long list of willing Venetian soldiers. The choice was really difficult because there were many of them, and I did not wish to compromise myself nor let them know my plans. I kept the real reason for my presence in the trenches a secret even from the officers of the regiment, telling them that I had been delegated by the command to study the aerial activities of our adversaries. I spent whole days conversing with the soldiers, studying their character and seeking the man who seemed to possess the complicated qualities I required. I discarded many at once who would be of great value in an assault, but who did not show the necessary seriousness. I told all of them that I sought the names of the soldiers from the invaded region because the command was desirous of devising a system whereby they would be able to communicate with their families who had remained therein. In this way, I got them to talk to me, to ask me anxiously about the fate of their villages, the condition of their homes, and being an aviator, they believed I knew all secrets and could tell them of the most intimate details which are hidden within the houses. By a process of elimination I arrived at a small group of the most willing of those whose homes were in the vicinity of Vittorio. Among them there was one who seemed especially suitable, Giovanni Bottecchia, born at San Martino di Colle but whose aunts live in a little village which rests on the mountains near Vittorio. The little village is A’Fregona and the wooded, uneven condition of the land, which is far from any roads, was suited for my plans. He was a sturdy youth, a trifle stubborn, as are all mountain folk of our regions, but he was instilled with great love of his country and a deep sense of responsibility. Whenever I spoke to him of what was taking place on the other side, he became profoundly indignant. He hated the invader not only because the invader had separated him from his family, because he was stealing and pillaging everything, but above all because the hated invader had violated our territory. So elevated a sentiment was noteworthy in the simple heart of a soldier, and he was one of the few who reacted so powerfully and so sincerely to my arguments. To test his ability of keeping a secret, I told him a small part of our project, and asked him not to tell anyone, not even the officers of the regiment if they should ask him. I then requested Colonel Pirzio Biroli to send for him and question him, to see if he would disclose anything. Bottecchia did not reveal a single word; on the contrary he evaded the questions of the Colonel with a certain diplomatic ability. This seriousness, this ability of keeping a secret, this enthusiasm, were truly exceptional qualities. The fact that the house of his parents was in a convenient spot was a further asset. Another point in his favor was the fact that he had been a driver and therefore knew every road and path along the mountains. As I questioned him about well-known places, on common trips, he answered with such exactness in every detail that I was really astonished and gradually I persuaded myself that if I was to have a companion I could not find a better one than he.
Gradually I disclosed to him my plan in every detail. His courage instead of diminishing in the face of so many difficulties, increased. He became enthusiastic. He asked me anxiously the day, the hour, when we should begin our adventure, thus showing he was eager to hurl himself at once into the greatest danger. To him I owed some important bits of information, some suggestions and modifications in our plan. At first I had decided to leave the camp disguised as a peasant, but Bottecchia rightly remarked it would be better to remain in uniform and carry our disguise under our arms, so that in case the Austrians were to surprise us while alighting, we would not have to explain to them our plan, but could say we were aviators who, after a nocturnal flight to ascertain the conditions at the railroad station at Casarsa, had been compelled to land because of a fault in the motor. The enemy would not have time to notice our civilian clothes on the plane, for at the first alarm, we would have made them disappear by means of a special infernal machine with which our planes are equipped in case they have to land in enemy territory.
V
I led a laborious, tranquil life with the command of the eighth Bersaglieri which held the line from Fagare to Molino della Sega. Every now and then there were slight surprise attacks at night and small bombardments. During the day there was a little isolated shooting upon the roads most frequented by our wagons, but otherwise there was nothing abnormal, almost no indication that we were at war. So for many weeks on many fronts this calm subsisted yet beneath its stillness what great griefs, what sufferings, what trepidations lay hid!
The willow-trees put forth their first buds; spring came on apace. A hawthorn bush about which the wire entanglements were twined, foamed, snow-tinted, under the pale sky. A warm breeze, the lightest of March, breathed from the South, and at the first cascades of song from larks, singing as it seemed just beneath the low clouds, we felt faintly calling in our hearts the echoes of the distant springtimes, now—save in the moments of this brief episode of war—vanished from the memory of a child grown man. In the afternoon we heard the first rumblings of thunder, followed by large warm drops of rain which filled the air with the smell of fresh earth newly trenched and with the fragrance of primroses and violets sprouting among the first green leaves. Far off in the background where the irate mountain seemed to support a curved garland of clouds, I beheld, illumined by a slanting ray of light, the cypresses which surround the castle of Conegliano, near which my house stands. Everything proclaimed the unhinderable beauty of nature, the joy of youth, were it yet possible even to sense this beauty and this youth in the great cataclysm which surrounded us. That view and those cypresses renewed within me the ardent desire to reach the other side. I pointed out to Bottecchia the steeple of his village church, which veiled itself far away among the distant vapor of clouds. And by this sign we became two bosom companions joined by a firm bond of love and friendship. We became two comrades, dedicated to the same cause, two comrades whom nothing can stay in the fulfillment of their chosen duty.
Very slowly, so it seemed to me, the days passed by, perhaps because I slept little at night. For then it was that many small details took shape, many new angles of sight were discovered, many definite ideas were formulated. In the morning my soldier and I met and communicated to each other the experiences and thoughts of the previous night.
One morning I received a letter from Colonel Smaniotto saying that His Excellency, assistant-Chief of Staff of the Army, Lieut. General Badoglio was greatly interested in our undertaking and had given orders that the “Voisin” be dispatched as soon as possible to the front, and that it be equipped with a silencer reported marvelous. The Colonel further entrusted me with the task of choosing from among the officers of the eighth regiment of Bersaglieri some one who, were my venture a success, would be disposed to attempt the same thing in the region around Pordenone. After numerous considerations I turned my attention to Lieutenant De Carli (strangest of coincidences in names!) who seemed to me to possess the necessary qualities and who had left his mother in the invaded territory at Tiezzo di Pordenone.
We Italians are truly a great people! He did not hesitate a second before accepting my project. Without asking for any details he placed himself at my disposal and merely requested that he be permitted to take with him his brother, a corporal serving in his company. After seeing such ardor and such frenzy not to leave a thing undone which might help drive the enemy from our lands, I became more and more convinced that it was merely a matter of time before we should achieve that victory for which we had been summoned.
With the two De Carli brothers and my soldier I returned to headquarters because there were still many points to be settled, especially what means of communication we should adopt when we had reached the other side. From numerous reports it seemed that the time set for the great Austrian offensive was not far distant, the offensive destined definitely to crush our army and enable the enemy to turn all his strength against France. We must be ready before that offensive.