雷那蒂进来时我醒过来，但是他不讲话，我就又睡着了。第二天天亮前，我就穿上衣服走了。我走时他并没有醒。

我没到过培恩西柴高原，这时走过河对面我从前受伤的地方，走上从前奥军所盘踞的山坡，心中有一种奇异的感觉。那边现在新铺有一条险峻的山路，还有许多军用卡车。再过去路平坦下来，我望见雾中的树林和峻岭。那些树林一下子被占领了，所以没多大毁伤。再往前走，路没有了山丘的掩护，所以路两边和顶上都搭有席子，作为遮蔽。路的尽头是一个已经毁坏了的村子。村子过去一点的高处，就是前线。附近有许多大炮。村子里的房屋被破坏得很厉害，不过组织工作做得很好，到处有指路标。我们找到了吉诺，他给我们喝点咖啡，然后带我去见了几个人，看了那些救护站。吉诺说英国救护车在培恩西柴高原上还要过去一点的拉夫涅工作。他很佩服英国人。他说，炮轰有时还有，不过伤人不多。现在雨季一开始，病人要多起来。奥军据说要发动进攻，可他不相信。我们据说也要发动进攻，但是新来的部队并没有调来，所以所谓进攻恐怕也是谈谈罢了。这里吃的东西少，他很希望能回到哥里察去饱餐一顿。昨天晚饭我吃什么？我告诉了他，他说太好了。给他印象最深的是甜点心。我只说是一客甜点心，没有详细说明，他以为是什么考究的精品，想不到只是面包布丁。

我可知道他要给调到哪里去？我说我不知道，不过其他的救护车中有一些正在卡波雷多。他倒希望上那儿去。那是个很好的小镇，他特别喜欢镇后那座耸入云霄的高山。吉诺是个好小伙，人人好像都喜欢他。他说战斗打得最惨的地方是在圣迦伯烈山，还有伦姆外围的进攻，搞得太糟了。他说在我们前边和上边的特尔诺伐山脉，奥军在树林里布置了好些大炮，夜里常常狠狠地轰击我们的道路。特别刺激他神经的是敌人的海军炮队。这种炮，你只消看到它那种直射的弹道就认得出。先是啪的开炮声，随即就是炮弹的一阵子尖叫。他们往往是双炮齐发，一门紧挨着一门，炸裂的弹片特别大。他拿了一片给我看，那是块锯齿形的边缘较平整的铁片，有一英尺多长。看起来就像巴比特合金1。

“我想这种炮弹并不十分有效，”吉诺说。“但是把我可吓坏了。那声响就好像在对着你冲来似的。先是砰的一声，随即是尖锐的啸声和爆炸。如果一听就叫人吓得半死，那么即使没有受伤，又有什么用呢？”1

他说对面敌军阵地中现在有克罗地亚人，还有些马扎尔人。我们的部队还在进攻的阵地里。倘若奥军来进攻的话，我们这边既没有电话，又没有地方可以退守。高原上突出来的那一排低低的山丘，本来是防守的好阵地，但是我们并没有组织利用这个天然险要。我对培恩西柴高原究竟有怎样的看法？

我本以为它还要平坦点，更像个高原。想不到这地方竟是这样高低不平的。

1这里所讲的基督教是广义的，也包括天主教。波斯尼亚（现属南斯拉夫）的居民是斯拉夫民族，多信奉回教，因为过去属于土耳其帝国。

1 耶稣在被捕的那晚，曾同门徒彼得等在客西马尼园祷告。就捕时彼得拔刀抵抗，为耶稣所斥责。详见《圣经·马太福音》第26 章。

“高地上的平原，”吉诺说，“但其实并没有平原。”

我们回到他住的地方，一幢房子的地窖。我说，我原以为一道山顶较平坦而有一定深度的山脉，比一系列的小山防守起来要容易而稳当。上山进攻并不比在平地上打困难，我说。“那就要看是哪种山了，”他说。“你瞧瞧圣迦伯烈山。”“不错，”我说，“但是难就难在山顶是平坦的。人家攻上山顶是相当容易的。”

“不见得十分容易吧，”他说。

“是的，”我说，“但是圣迦伯烈山是特别的，因为与其说它是山，不如说它是座要塞。奥军在那儿做防御工事已经多年了。”我的意思是，从战术上来讲，凡是某种运动性的战争，以一系列时山当作一条战线是无法守住的，因为那太容易受敌人的包抄了。你该有可能机动的余地，而一座山是不太能机动的。况且，从山上向下射击，总是会射过头的。倘若左右翼被包抄了，最高峰上的精兵也就完了。我不相信在山上打仗能解决什么问题。关于这一点，我曾经想了又想，我说。你抢去一座山，我夺来一座山，但是要认真打仗的话，大家还得先下山来。

“倘若有的国家拿山做国境线，那怎么办呢？”他问。

“这我还没想出法子来，”我说，两人都笑起来。“但是，”我说，“在从前，奥军总是在维罗那周围那块四方平原上遭到打击的。人家让他们下到平原，然后迎头痛击。”

“是的，”吉诺说。“但是那些人是法国人，你在别人的国土上打仗，军事问题就可以干净利落地予以解决。”

“是的，”我同意道，“倘若是你自己的国土，干起来可不能那么科学化。”

“俄国人可搞成过，叫拿破仑跌入陷阱。”

“是的，但是人家国大地方宽。要是你想在意大利这样对付拿破仑，那你只好退到布林迪西1去。”“那地方糟透了，”吉诺说。“你到过那儿吗？”

“到过，但没有呆过。”

“我是个爱国者，”吉诺说。“可是要我爱布林迪西或是塔兰多2却不可能。”

“你爱不爱培恩西柴高原？”我问。

“这土地是神圣的，”他说。“不过我希望它能多长一点马铃薯。你知道，我们来时，发现了一些奥国佬种下的马铃薯地。”

“这里的食物果真缺乏吗？”

“我总是东西不够吃，不过我虽是个饭量大的人，倒也没有挨过饿。这里的大灶伙食一般。前线部队吃得相当好，但是支援人员就没有那么多东西吃。一定在什么地方出了毛病。食物本该是充足的。”

“一定是黄牛偷到旁的地方去贩卖了。”

“对啦，他们尽量拿充足的食物供应在前线的部队，但是后援人员的伙食可就很缺乏了。弄得后援人员只好把奥军种下的马铃薯和树林里的栗子吃个精光。应当给他们好一点的食物。我们都是饭量大的人。我相信食物本来是一定够的。

1 巴比特合金是种以锡、锑、铜等炼成的合金。巴比特是发明人的姓氏。

2 马扎尔人为匈牙利的主要民族。克罗地亚人是当时奥匈帝国境内的一种斯拉夫族人。克罗地亚现归南斯拉夫。

士兵的伙食不够吃，这很不好。肚子吃不饱，心思就不同，这一点你注意到了没有？”

“我注意到了，”我说。“这样不能打胜仗，却能打败仗。”

“我们不谈败仗吧。谈败仗已谈得够多了。今年夏天的战斗可不能算是徒劳的。”

我一声不响。我每逢听到神圣、光荣、牺牲等字眼和徒劳这一说法，总觉得局促不安。这些字眼我们早已听过，有时还是站在雨中听，站在听觉达

不到的地方听，只听到一些大声喊出来的字眼；况且，我们也读过这些字眼，从人们贴在层层旧公告上的新公告上读到过。但是到了现在，我观察了好久，可没看到什么神圣的事，而那些所谓光荣的事，并没有什么光荣，而所谓牺牲，那就像芝加哥的屠场，只不过这里屠宰好的肉不是装进罐头，而是掩埋掉罢了。有许多字眼我现在再也听不进去，到末了，只有地名还保持着尊严。还有某些数字和某些日期也是如此，只有这一些和地名你讲起来才有意义。抽象的名词，像光荣、荣誉、勇敢或神圣，倘若跟具体的名称——例如村庄的名称、路的号数、河名、部队的番号和重大日期等等——放在一起，就简直令人厌恶。吉诺是个爱国者，所以有时他讲的话叫我们彼此之间产生隔阂，但是他人很不错，我也了解他是个爱国者。他生下来就是爱国的。后来他同柏图齐赶着原车回哥里察去了。

那天整天暴风雨。风刮着雨，到处积水，到处泥泞。那些被毁的房屋上的灰泥又灰又湿。快近薄暮时，雨停了，我从第二急救站那儿，望见赤裸而湿淋淋的秋天的原野，山峰顶上有云，路上的席屏湿淋淋地滴着水。太阳在沉落前又露了一次面，映照着山脊后边的光秃的树林。山脊上的树林里，奥军有许多大炮，不过开炮的倒是没有几门。我看着前线附近一幢毁坏的农舍上空突然出现的一团团榴霰弹的烟，轻柔的烟团，中央出现黄白色的闪光。你看见了闪光，然后才听见炮声，看见那个烟团在风中变形而变得稀薄。村屋的瓦砾堆中有许多榴霰弹中的铁弹，急救站那幢破屋子旁边的路上也有，但是那天下午敌人并没向急救站的附近打炮。我们装了两车伤员，在淋湿的席屏遮掩好的路上开着走，残照的余辉从条条席子的空隙中射进来。我们还没走到山后那段露天的路上，太阳下去了。我们在没遮掩的路上朝前驶，正当车子转个弯，由敞开的郊野驶进搭有席子的方形甬道时，雨又下了。

夜里起了风，到清早三时，正当大雨倾盆直泻的当儿，敌军发炮轰击，克罗地业部队穿越山上的草场和一片片的树林，冲到前线来。他们冒着雨在黑暗中混打一阵，由第二线一批惊慌的士兵发动反攻，才把敌人赶了回去。在雨中开了许多炮，放了许多火箭，全线都响起了机枪声和步枪声。他们没有再来攻，前线比较沉寂了，在一阵阵风雨中，我们听得见北面远远地有猛烈的炮轰声。

伤员到救护站来了，有的由人用担架抬来，有的自己走，有的由人家背着越过田野而来。他们全身湿透，都吓得要命。我们把担架上的伤员由急救站的地下室抬上来，装满了两部救护车，当我伸手关上第二部车的车门时，我发觉打在脸上的雨已变成雪了。雪花在雨中又猛又快地落下来。

天亮时还在刮狂风，雪倒停了。掉在湿地上的雪已融化，而现在又下起雨来了。天刚亮，敌人又发动一次进攻，但是没有得逞。那天我们整天等待敌人来攻，一直等到太阳下山。在南面，那条有树林的长山岭底下，奥军的大炮集中在那里，又开始炮轰了。我们也等待他们的炮轰，但是并没有来。

天黑下来了。村子后边田野上的大炮开起来了，听见炮弹从我们这边往外开，心里倒很舒服。

我们听说敌人进攻南边已失败了。那天夜里他们不再进攻，但是我们又听说，他们在北边突破了我们的阵地。夜里有人传话来叫大家准备撤退。这消息是急救站那个上尉告诉我的。他的消息是从旅部听来的。过了一会儿，他接到电话，说方才的消息是小广播。旅部奉令坚守培恩西柴这条战线，不顾任何变化。我问起关于突破的消息，他说他在旅部听说，奥军突破了第二十七军团阵地，直逼卡波雷多。北边整天有大恶战。

“倘若那批龟儿子真的让他们突破的话，我们就成为瓮中之鳖了，”他说。“进攻的是德国部队，”一位军医说。一提起德国人，大家谈虎变色。我们不想跟德国人打交道。

“一共有十五师德军，”军医说。“他们已经突破过来，我们就要给切断了。”

“在旅部，他们说这条战线非守住不可。他们说，敌人的突破还不太厉害，我们要守住从马焦莱峰一直横穿山区的新阵地。”

“他们这消息是从哪儿听来的？”

“从师部。”

“叫我们撤退的就是师部来的命令嘛。”

“我们是直属军团的，”我说。“但是在这儿，我受你的指挥。自然，你什么时候叫我走我就走。但是命令是退还是守，总得弄个清楚。”“命令是留守这地方。你把伤员从这儿运到后送站。”

“有时候我们还把伤员从后送站运到野战医院，”我说。“告诉我，我没见识过撤退——要是果真撤退，这些伤员怎么撤退法呢？”

“没法把伤员全部运走。能运多少就运多少，其余的只好撂下。”“那么车子装什么呢？”

“医院设备。”

“好的，”我说。

第二天夜里，撤退开始了。我们听说德军和奥军突破了北面的阵地，现在正沿着山谷直冲下来，向西维特尔和乌迪内挺进。撤退倒很有秩序，士兵们身上淋湿，心里愠悻。夜里，我们开着车子在拥挤的路上慢慢地走，越过了冒雨撤离前线的部队、大炮、马儿拖着的车子、骡子和卡车。并不比进兵时更混乱一点。

那天夜里，我们帮助那些野战医院撤退——野战医院就设在高原上那些毁坏最少的村庄里——把伤员运到河床边的普拉伐；第二天一整天，又是冒着雨协助撤退普拉伐的医院和后送站。那天雨下个不停，培恩西柴的部队冒着十月里的秋雨，撤出了高原，渡过了河，经过了那年春天开始打胜仗的地方。第二天中午，我们到了哥里察。雨停了，城里几乎全空了。我们车子开上街时，碰见那个专门招待士兵的窑子正在把姐儿们装进一部卡车。姐儿一共有七个，都戴着帽子，披着外衣，手里提着小提包。其中有两个在哭。有一个对我们笑笑，还伸出舌头来上下播弄。她长着厚嘴唇和黑眼睛。我停住车，跑过去找那管姐儿的说话。军官窑子的姐儿们当天一早就走了，她说。她们上哪儿去了？到科内利阿诺去了，她说。卡车开动了。那个厚嘴唇的姐儿又对着我们伸出舌头来。管姐儿的挥挥手。那两个姐儿仍旧在哭。其余的则饶有兴趣地望着车外的城镇。我回到了车上。“我们应当跟她们一同走，”

博内罗说。“这样，旅行一定挺有意思。”“我们的旅行会是愉快的，”我说。

“恐怕是要大吃苦头的吧。”

“我正是这个意思，”我说。我们顺着车道开到别墅前。

“要是碰上有些硬汉爬上车去逼她们硬搞起来，我倒想看看热闹。”“你看有人会这么做吗？”

“当然啦。第二军中，哪一个不认得这管姐儿的。”

我们到了别墅的门外。

“他们管她叫女修道院院长，”博内罗说。“姐儿们是新来的，但是人人都认得那管姐儿的。她们大概是刚要撤退前才运到的。”

“她们会好好乐一阵子的。”

“我也说她们会好好乐一阵子的。我倒希望可以免费搞她们一下。那妓院的价钱本来就太贵。政府敲诈我们。”

“把车子开出去，叫机工检查一下，”我说。“换一下润滑油，检查一下分速器。装满汽油，然后去睡一会儿。”

“是，中尉长官。”

别墅里空无一人。雷那蒂已经跟着医院撤退了。少校也坐上了小汽车，率领医院人员走了。少校在窗子上留下一张字条，叫我把堆在门廊上的物资装上车，开车到波达诺涅去。机工们早已走光了。我回到汽车间。我到了那儿，其余那两部车子刚开来了，司机们下了车。天又在下雨了。“我是多么——多么困，从普拉伐到这儿来一共睡着了三次，”皮安尼说。“现在我们怎么办，中尉？”

“我们换换油，涂些机油，装满汽油，然后把车子开到前边，把他们留下的破烂装上。”

“以后我们就出发吗？”

“不，我们先睡三小时。”

“天啊，能睡一睡多好啊，”博内罗说。“我已没法睁开眼睛驾车了。”

“你的车子怎么样，艾莫？”我问。

“没问题。”

“给我一套工作服，我帮你加油。”

“千万不可以，中尉，”艾莫说。“根本没事。你去收拾你自己的东西吧。”

“我的东西都收拾好了，”我说。“我去把他们留下来的东西搬出来吧。车子一弄好，你们就开到前边来。”

他们把车子开到别墅前边来，我们就把堆积在门廊上的医院设备装上车子。装完以后，三部车子排成一行，停在车路上的树底下躲雨。我们走进别墅去。

“到厨房去生个火，把衣服烘烘干，”我说。

“衣服干不干没关系，”皮安尼说。“我只想睡觉。”

“我要睡在少校的床上，”博内罗说。“我要在老头子躺的地方睡个觉。”

“我哪儿睡都行，”皮安尼说。

“这儿有两张床，”我打开门说。

“我从来不知道那间房里放的是什么，”博内罗说。

“那是老甲鱼的房间，”皮安尼说。

“你们俩就在那儿睡，”我说，“我会叫醒你们的。”

“中尉，要是你睡得太长久的话，我们就由奥国佬来叫醒吧，”博内罗说。

“我不会睡过头的，”我说。“艾莫在哪儿？”

“他到厨房去了。”

“去睡吧，”我说。

“我就去睡，”皮安尼说。“我已经坐着打盹打了一天啦。我的眼睛总是睁不开。”

“脱掉你的靴子，”博内罗说。“那是老甲鱼的床铺啊。”“我管它什么老甲鱼。”皮安尼躺在床上，一双泥污的靴子直伸着，他的头靠在胳膊上。我走到厨房去。艾莫在炉子里生了火，炉上放了一壶水。

“我想还是做一点实心面吧，”他说。“大家醒来时会肚子饿的。”“你难道不困吗，巴托洛梅奥？”

“不太困。等水一滚我就走。火会自己熄灭的。”“你还是睡一下吧，”我说。“我们可以吃干酪和罐头牛肉。”“这个要好一点，”他说。“吃点热的东西对那两个无政府主义者有好处。你去睡吧，中尉。”

“少校房间里有一张床。”

“那你就去睡吧。”

“不，我回我楼上的老房间去。你可想喝杯酒，巴托洛梅奥？”“大家动身时再喝吧，中尉。现在喝下去可没什么好处。”“要是你三小时后先醒来，而我又没来叫你，你就来叫醒我，行吗？”“我可没有表，中尉。”

“少校房间里墙上有个挂钟。”

“好吧。”

于是我走出去，穿过饭厅和门廊，走上大理石的楼梯，到了我以前和雷那蒂合住的房间。外边在下雨。我走到窗边，望出去。天在黑下来，我看见那三部车子成一排停在树底下。树木在雨中滴着水。因为天冷，树枝上挂着水珠。我回到雷那蒂的床边，躺下去，睡着了。

我们出发前在厨房里吃东西。艾莫搞了一大盆实心面，拌着洋葱和切碎的罐头肉。我们围桌而坐，喝了两瓶人家留在地窖里的葡萄酒。外边天黑了，还在下雨。皮安尼坐在桌旁，还是昏昏欲睡。

“我觉得撤退比进兵好，”博内罗说。“撤退时我们有巴勃拉酒喝。”

“我们现在喝它。明天也许得喝雨水啦，”艾莫说。

“明天我们到乌迪内。大家喝香槟。那些逃避兵役的王八蛋就呆在那儿。醒来吧，皮安尼！我们明天在乌迪内喝香槟！”

“我醒啦，”皮安尼说。他把实心面和肉盛在他的盘子里。“能找到番茄酱吗，巴托？”

“一点也没有啊，”艾莫说。

“我们要在乌迪内喝香槟，”博内罗说。他在杯子里斟满了澄清的红色巴勃拉酒。

“到乌迪内以前，我们可能喝——水哩，”皮安尼说。

“你吃炮了没有，中尉？”艾莫问。

“饱了。把酒瓶给我，巴托洛梅奥。”

“我给每部车子预备了一瓶酒，”艾莫说。

“你根本没有睡吗？”“我不需要多睡。我稍微眼睛闭一闭。”

“明儿我们要睡国王的床罗，”博内罗说。他现在兴高采烈。“明儿我们也许睡在——”皮安尼说。

“我要跟王后睡觉，”博内罗说。他望望我，看我对这玩笑有什么反应。

“跟你睡觉的是——”皮安尼昏昏欲睡地说。

“这是叛逆啊，中尉，”博内罗说。“这岂不是叛逆吗？”

“不许说了，”我说。“你们喝了一点酒就胡说八道。”外边下着雨。

我看看表。九点半。

“是该走的时间啦，”我说，站起身来。

“你乘谁的车子，中尉？”博内罗问。

“乘艾莫的。第二部是你。第三部皮安尼。我们走大路去科蒙斯。”“我就怕我会睡着，”皮安尼说。

“好吧。我就坐你的车子。第二部是博内罗。第三部是艾莫。”“这样安排最好了，”皮安尼说。“因为我太困了。”

“我开车，你睡一会儿。”

“不。只要我知道我一睡去，旁边有人叫醒我，那我车子还开得来的。”

“我会叫醒你的。把灯灭了吧，巴托。”

“让它们点着吧，”博内罗说。“这地方横竖我们没有用处了。”“我房间里有只上锁的小箱子，”我说。“你帮我拿下来好不好，皮安尼？”“我们给你搬去，”皮安尼说。“来吧，阿尔多。”他同博内罗一同走进门廊去。我听得见他们上楼梯的声响。

“这倒是个好地方，”巴托洛梅奥·艾莫说。他把两瓶酒和半块干酪装在帆布背包里。“以后再也不会碰上这么好的地方了。他们撤退到哪儿去呢，中尉？”

“他们说要退到过塔利亚门托河。医院和防区要设在波达诺涅。”“这镇子比波达诺涅好。”

“波达诺涅的情况我不了解，”我说。“我不过曾经路过那儿罢了。”

“那地方不大像样，”艾莫说。

i woke when rinaldi came in but he did not talk and i went back to sleep again. in the morning i was dressed and gone before it was light. rinaldi did not wake when i left.

i had not seen the bainsizza before and it was strange to go up the slope where the austrians had been, beyond the place on the river where i had been wounded. there was a steep new road and many trucks. beyond, the road flattened out and i saw woods and steep hills in the mist. there were woods that had been taken quickly and not smashed. then beyond where the road was not protected by the hills it was screened by matting on the sides and over the top. the road ended in a wrecked village. the lines were up beyond. there was much artillery around. the houses were badly smashed but things were very well organized and there were signboards everywhere. we found gino and he got us some coffee and later i went with him and met various people and saw the posts. gino said the british cars were working further down the bainsizza at ravne. he had great admiration for the british. there was still a certain amount of shelling, he said, but not many wounded. there would be many sick now the rains had started. the austrians were supposed to attack but he did not believe it. we were supposed to attack too, but they had not brought up any new troops so he thought that was off too. food was scarce and he would be glad to get a full meal in gorizia. what kind of supper had i had? i told him and he said that would be wonderful. he was especially impressed by the dolce. i did not describe it in detail, only said it was a dolce, and i think he believed it was something more elaborate than bread pudding.

did i know where he was going to go? i said i didn't but that some of the other cars were at caporetto. he hoped he would go up that way. it was a nice little place and he liked the high mountain hauling up beyond. he was a nice boy and every one seemed to like him. he said where it really had been hell was at san gabriele and the attack beyond lom that had gone bad. he said the austrians had a great amount of artillery in the woods along ternova ridge beyond and above us, and shelled the roads badly at night. there was a battery of naval guns that had gotten on his nerves. i would recognize them because of their flat trajectory. you heard the report and then the shriek commenced almost instantly. they usually fired two guns at once, one right after the other, and the fragments from the burst were enormous. he showed me one, a smoothly jagged piece of metal over a foot long. it looked like babbitting metal.

"i don't suppose they are so effective," gino said. "but they scare me. they all sound as though they came directly for you. there is the boom, then instantly the shriek and burst. what's the use of not being wounded if they scare you to death?"

he said there were croats in the lines opposite us now and some magyars. our troops were still in the attacking positions. there was no wire to speak of and no place to fall back to if there should be an austrian attack. there were fine positions for defense along the low mountains that came up out of the plateau but nothing had been done about organizing them for defense. what did i think about the bainsizza anyway?

i had expected it to be flatter, more like a plateau. i had not realized it was so broken up.

"alto piano," gino said, "but no piano."

we went back to the cellar of the house where he lived. i said i thought a ridge that flattened out on top and had a little depth would be easier and more practical to hold than a succession of small mountains. it was no harder to attack up a mountain than on the level, i argued. "that depends on the mountains," he said. "look at san gabriele."

"yes," i said, "but where they had trouble was at the top where it was flat. they got up to the top easy enough."

"not so easy," he said.

"yes," i said, "but that was a special case because it was a fortress rather than a mountain, anyway. the austrians had been fortifying it for years." i meant tactically speaking in a war where there was some movement a succession of mountains were nothing to hold as a line because it was too easy to turn them. you should have possible mobility and a mountain is not very mobile. also, people always over-shoot downhill. if the flank were turned, the best men would be left on the highest mountains. i did not believe in a war in mountains. i had thought about it a lot, i said. you pinched off one mountain and they pinched off another but when something really started every one had to get down off the mountains.

what were you going to do if you had a mountain frontier? he asked.

i had not worked that out yet, i said, and we both laughed. "but," i said, "in the old days the austrians were always whipped in the quadrilateral around verona. they let them come down onto the plain and whipped them there."

"yes," said gino. "but those were frenchmen and you can work out military problems clearly when you are fighting in somebody else's country."

"yes," i agreed, "when it is your own country you cannot use it so scientifically."

"the russians did, to trap napoleon."

"yes, but they had plenty of country. if you tried to retreat to trap napoleon in italy you would find yourself in brindisi."

"a terrible place," said gino. "have you ever been there?"

"not to stay."

"i am a patriot," gino said. "but i cannot love brindisi or taranto."

"do you love the bainsizza?" i asked.

"the soil is sacred," he said. "but i wish it grew more potatoes. you know when we came here we found fields of potatoes the austrians had planted."

"has the food really been short?"

"i myself have never had enough to eat but i am a big eater and i have not starved. the mess is average. the regiments in the line get pretty good food but those in support don't get so much. something is wrong somewhere. there should be plenty of food."

"the dogfish are selling it somewhere else."

"yes, they give the battalions in the front line as much as they can but the ones in back are very short. they have eaten all the austrians' potatoes and chestnuts from the woods. they ought to feed them better. we are big eaters. i am sure there is plenty of food. it is very bad for the soldiers to be short of food. have you ever noticed the difference it makes in the way you think?"

"yes," i said. "it can't win a war but it can lose one."

"we won't talk about losing. there is enough talk about losing. what has been done this summer cannot have been done in vain."

i did not say anything. i was always embarrassed by the words sacred, glorious, and sacrifice and the expression in vain. we had heard them, sometimes standing in the rain almost out of earshot, so that only the shouted words came through, and had read them, on proclamations that were slapped up by billposters over other proclamations, now for a long time, and i had seen nothing sacred, and the things that were glorious had no glory and the sacrifices were like the stockyards at chicago if nothing was done with the meat except to bury it. there were many words that you could not stand to hear and finally only the names of places had dignity. certain numbers were the same way and certain dates and these with the names of the places were all you could say and have them mean anything. abstract words such as glory, honor, courage, or hallow were obscene beside the concrete names of villages, the numbers of roads, the names of rivers, the numbers of regiments and the dates. gino was a patriot, so he said things that separated us sometimes, but he was also a fine boy and i understood his being a patriot. he was born one. he left with peduzzi in the car to go back to gorizia.

it stormed all that day. the wind drove down the rain and everywhere there was standing water and mud. the plaster of the broken houses was gray and wet. late in the afternoon the rain stopped and from out number two post i saw the bare wet autumn country with clouds over the tops of the hills and the straw screening over the roads wet and dripping. the sun came out once before it went down and shone on the bare woods beyond the ridge. there were many austrian guns in the woods on that ridge but only a few fired. i watched the sudden round puffs of shrapnel smoke in the sky above a broken farmhouse near where the line was; soft puffs with a yellow white flash in the centre. you saw the flash, then heard the crack, then saw the smoke ball distort and thin in the wind. there were many iron shrapnel balls in the rubble of the houses and on the road beside the broken house where the post was, but they did not shell near the post that afternoon. we loaded two cars and drove down the road that was screened with wet mats and the last of the sun came through in the breaks between the strips of mattings. before we were out on the clear road behind the hill the sun was down. we went on down the clear road and as it turned a corner into the open and went into the square arched tunnel of matting the rain started again.

the wind rose in the night and at three o'clock in the morning with the rain coming in sheets there was a bombardment and the croatians came over across the mountain meadows and through patches of woods and into the front line. they fought in the dark in the rain and a counter-attack of scared men from the second line drove them back. there was much shelling and many rockets in the rain and machine-gun and rifle fire all along the line. they did not come again and it was quieter and between the gusts of wind and rain we could hear the sound of a great bombardment far to the north.

the wounded were coming into the post, some were carried on stretchers, some walking and some were brought on the backs of men that came across the field. they were wet to the skin and all were scared. we filled two cars with stretcher cases as they came up from the cellar of the post and as i shut the door of the second car and fastened it i felt the rain on my face turn to snow. the flakes were coming heavy and fast in the rain.

when daylight came the storm was still blowing but the snow had stopped. it had melted as it fell on the wet ground and now it was raining again. there was another attack just after daylight but it was unsuccessful. we expected an attack all day but it did not come until the sun was going down. the bombardment started to the south below the long wooded ridge where the austrian guns were concentrated. we expected a bombardment but it did not come. it was getting dark. guns were firing from the field behind the village and the shells, going away, had a comfortable sound.

we heard that the attack to the south had been unsuccessful. they did not attack that night but we heard that they had broken through to the north. in the night word came that we were to prepare to retreat. the captain at the post told me this. he had it from the brigade. a little while later he came from the telephone and said it was a lie. the brigade had received orders that the line of the bainsizza should be held no matter what happened. i asked about the break through and he said that he had heard at the brigade that the austrians had broken through the twenty-seventh army corps up toward caporetto. there had been a great battle in the north all day.

"if those bastards let them through we are cooked," he said.

"it's germans that are attacking," one of the medical officers said. the word germans was something to be frightened of. we did not want to have anything to do with the germans.

"there are fifteen divisions of germans," the medical officer said. "they have broken through and we will be cut off."

"at the brigade, they say this line is to be held. they say they have not broken through badly and that we will hold a line across the mountains from monte maggiore."

"where do they hear this?"

"from the division."

"the word that we were to retreat came from the division."

"we work under the army corps," i said. "but here i work under you. naturally when you tell me to go i will go. but get the orders straight."

"the orders are that we stay here. you clear the wounded from here to the clearing station."

"sometimes we clear from the clearing station to the field hospitals too," i said. "tell me, i have never seen a retreat--if there is a retreat how are all the wounded evacuated?"

"they are not. they take as many as they can and leave the rest."

"what will i take in the cars?"

"hospital equipment."

"all right," i said.

the next night the retreat started. we heard that germans and austrians had broken through in the north and were coming down the mountain valleys toward cividale and udine. the retreat was orderly, wet and sullen. in the night, going slowly along the crowded roads we passed troops marching under the rain, guns, horses pulling wagons, mules, motor trucks, all moving away from the front. there was no more disorder than in an advance.

that night we helped empty the field hospitals that had been set up in the least ruined villages of the plateau, taking the wounded down to plava on the river-bed: and the next day hauled all day in the rain to evacuate the hospitals and clearing station at plava. it rained steadily and the army of the bainsizza moved down off the plateau in the october rain and across the river where the great victories had commenced in the spring of that year. we came into gorizia in the middle of the next day. the rain had stopped and the town was nearly empty. as we came up the street they were loading the girls from the soldiers' whorehouse into a truck. there were seven girls and they had on their hats and coats and carried small suitcases. two of them were crying. of the others one smiled at us and put out her tongue and fluttered it up and down. she had thick full lips and black eyes.

i stopped the car and went over and spoke to the matron. the girls from the officers' house had left early that morning, she said. where were they going? to conegliano, she said. the truck started. the girl with thick lips put out her tongue again at us. the matron waved. the two girls kept on crying. the others looked interestedly out at the town. i got back in the car.

"we ought to go with them," bonello said. "that would be a good trip."

"we'll have a good trip," i said.

"we'll have a hell of a trip."

"that's what i mean," i said. we came up the drive to the villa.

"i'd like to be there when some of those tough babies climb in and try and hop them."

"you think they will?"

"sure. everybody in the second army knows that matron."

we were outside the villa.

"they call her the mother superior," bonello said. "the girls are new but everybody knows her. they must have brought them up just before the retreat."

"they'll have a time."

"i'll say they'll have a time. i'd like to have a crack at them for nothing. they charge too much at that house anyway. the government gyps us."

"take the car out and have the mechanics go over it," i said. "change the oil and check the differential. fill it up and then get some sleep."

"yes, signor tenente."

the villa was empty. rinaldi was gone with the hospital. the major was gone taking hospital personnel in the staff car. there was a note on the window for me to fill the cars with the material piled in the hall and to proceed to pordenone. the mechanics were gone already. i went out back to the garage. the other two cars came in while i was there and their drivers got down. it was starting to rain again.

"i'm so--sleepy i went to sleep three times coming here from plava," piani said. "what are we going to do, tenente?"

"we'll change the oil, grease them, fill them up, then take them around in front and load up the junk they've left."

"then do we start?"

"no, we'll sleep for three hours."

"christ i'm glad to sleep," bonello said. "i couldn't keep awake driving."

"how's your car, aymo?" i asked.

"it's all right."

"get me a monkey suit and i'll help you with the oil."

"don't you do that, tenente," aymo said. "ifs nothing to do. you go and pack your things."

"my things are all packed," i said. "i'll go and carry out the stuff that they left for us. bring the cars around as soon as they're ready."

they brought the cars around to the front of the villa and we loaded them with the hospital equipment which was piled in the hallway. when it was all in, the three cars stood in line down the driveway under the trees in the rain. we went inside.

"make a fire in the kitchen and dry your things," i said.

"i don't care about dry clothes," piani said. "i want to sleep."

"i'm going to sleep on the major's bed," bonello said. "i'm going to sleep where the old man corks off."

"i don't care where i sleep," piani said.

"there are two beds in here." i opened the door.

"i never knew what was in that room," bonello said.

"that was old fish-face's room," piani said.

"you two sleep in there," i said. "i'll wake you."

"the austrians will wake us if you sleep too long, tenente," bonello said.

"i won't oversleep," i said. "where's aymo?"

"he went out in the kitchen."

"get to sleep," i said.

"i'll sleep," piani said. "i've been asleep sitting up all day. the whole top of my head kept coming down over my eyes."

"take your boots off," bonello said. "that's old fish-face's bed."

"fish-face is nothing to me." piani lay on the bed, his muddy boots straight out, his head on his arm. i went out to the kitchen. aymo had a fire in the stove and a kettle of water on.

"i thought i'd start some pasta asciutta," he said. "we'll be hungry when we wake up."

"aren't you sleepy, bartolomeo?"

"not so sleepy. when the water boils i'll leave it. the fire will go down."

"you'd better get some sleep," i said. "we can eat cheese and monkey meat."

"this is better," he said. "something hot will be good for those two anarchists. you go to sleep, tenente."

"there's a bed in the major's room."

"you sleep there."

"no, i'm going up to my old room. do you want a drink, bartolomeo?"

"when we go, tenente. now it wouldn't do me any good."

"if you wake in three hours and i haven't called you, wake me, will you?"

"i haven't any watch, tenente."

"there's a clock on the wall in the major's room."

"all right."

i went out then through the dining-room and the hall and up the marble stairs to the room where i had lived with rinaldi. it was raining outside. i went to the window and looked out. it was getting dark and i saw the three cars standing in line under the trees. the trees were dripping in the rain. it was cold and the drops hung to the branches. i went back to rinaldi's bed and lay down and let sleep take me.

we ate in the kitchen before we started. aymo had a basin of spaghetti with onions and tinned meat chopped up in it. we sat around the table and drank two bottles of the wine that had been left in the cellar of the villa. it was dark outside and still raining. piani sat at the table very sleepy.

"i like a retreat better than an advance," bonello said. "on a retreat we drink barbera."

"we drink it now. to-morrow maybe we drink rainwater,"

aymo said.

"to-morrow we'll be in udine. we'll drink champagne. that's where the slackers live. wake up, piani! we'll drink champagne tomorrow in udine!"

"i'm awake," piani said. he filled his plate with the spaghetti and meat. "couldn't you find tomato sauce, barto?"

"there wasn't any," aymo said.

"we'll drink champagne in udine," bonello said. he filled his glass with the clear red barbera.

"we may drink--before udine," piani said.

"have you eaten enough, tenente?" aymo asked.

"i've got plenty. give me the bottle, bartolomeo."

"i have a bottle apiece to take in the cars," aymo said.

"did you sleep at all?"

"i don't need much sleep. i slept a little."

"to-morrow we'll sleep in the king's bed," bonello said. he was feeling very good.

"to-morrow maybe we'll sleep in--," piani said.

"i'll sleep with the queen," bonello said. he looked to see how i took the joke.

"you'll sleep with--," piani said sleepily.

"that's treason, tenente," bonello said. "isn't that treason?"

"shut up," i said. "you get too funny with a little wine." outside it was raining hard. i looked at my watch. it was half-past nine.

"it's time to roll," i said and stood up.

"who are you going to ride with, tenehte?" bonello asked.

"with aymo. then you come. then piani. we'll start out on the road for cormons."

"i'm afraid i'll go to sleep," piani said.

"all right. i'll ride with you. then bonello. then aymo."

"that's the best way," piani said. "because i'm so sleepy."

"i'll drive and you sleep awhile."

"no. i can drive just so long as i know somebody will wake me up if i go to sleep."

"i'll wake you up. put out the lights, barto."

"you might as well leave them," bonello said. "we've got no more use for this place."

"i have a small locker trunk in my room," i said. "will you help take it down, piani?"

"we'll take it," piani said. "come on, aldo." he went off into the hall with bonello. i heard them going upstairs.

"this was a fine place," bartolomeo aymo said. he put two bottles of wine and half a cheese into his haversack. "there won't be a place like this again. where will they retreat to, tenente?"

"beyond the tagliamento, they say. the hospital and the sector are to be at pordenone."

"this is a better town than pordenone."

"i don't know pordenone," i said. "i've just been through there."

"it's not much of a place," aymo said.