That which had the greatest effect on me while at the intelligence office was a description by Lieut. Zannini of the life of the inhabitants of the invaded regions. He told me of their sufferings; he assured me that in every moment, every second, they feel Italian and the more the enemy tries to overcome their sentiments with violence, the greater grows within them the feeling of revolt and exasperation. Lieut. Zannini had been taken prisoner during the retreat and by disguising himself as a soldier prisoner had succeeded in living in hiding for several days among the peasants, who did all they could to protect him from the German gendarmes authorized to seize him. He told me that many of the Italian prisoners, especially those native to the invaded regions, had succeeded in establishing themselves with some family, which welcomed them indeed because a man was of great help in the work on the fields and in protecting the women from the enemy soldiers.

Throughout the invaded regions the enemy used our prisoners freely for work on the roads to construct the new railroad from Sacile to Vittorio. These prisoners, who are held without food and are compelled to sleep in unhealthy places, often attempt to escape. They wander about the country begging bread right and left, only returning to the concentration camp where the whipping post and the prison await them when they have become exhausted by suffering and privation.

Although the enemy’s hatred against our soldiers is great, they cannot always prevent the population from coming to our assistance. At times some of the prisoners, feigning sickness, or because they have special classification papers, are permitted by the Austrian authorities to reside for some time with an Italian family.

Now, why couldn’t I become a prisoner? Why, granted that I succeeded in passing to the other side, couldn’t I join one of these companies? The idea seemed commendable since I would then be able to approach some Austrian soldier, and who knows but that among them I might find one able to give me important information! Furthermore, the plan was especially suitable, since the largest concentration camp for prisoners was at Vittorio, and because at Vittorio also there was established the command of the sixth Austrian army and in the proximity of so important a command there is ever more likelihood of indiscretions. Vittorio is again a point of great strategical importance. At Vittorio begins the great road which leads to Belluno and the Cadore, beside the other road which crosses the valley of Folina to Vidor.

In the latest encounters it had been observed that the enemy had always attempted to force our front on the side of the Grappa. Therefore it would be interesting to attempt to know what was taking place within the enemy’s back area, where undoubtedly he was making huge preparations.

The fact that the German general Von Buelow himself had established his command at Vittorio, indicated the importance of this post. It was indeed one of those strategical points from which branch forth all the ramifications of the enemy’s efforts. At Vittorio I know the land inch by inch; at Vittorio too there remained several persons from my house who could help me greatly and find some food for me, for from all reports it appeared that the food supply in the invaded regions was continually getting worse and that it was difficult even to find a handful of flour with which to make bread.

Nor did it seem difficult to enter one of these concentration camps, because it was reported that the enemy had not as yet made a complete list of all those in the camps, and furthermore there were many with no qualifying mark except their uniform of Italian soldier. Who knows, but that if I were to succeed in passing for a prisoner I might not be detailed, as were certain of our soldiers, to act as automobilists or letter carrier for some Austrian command? That truly would be ideal for I then could have access to many reports which otherwise would escape me. For at bottom I had become convinced that enemy soldiers are little informed of what happens at headquarters. We Italians are ingenuous enough to believe that the humblest specimen from the enemy army knows all the plans of the enemy, whereas, having regard to the fact that the population which forms the Austrian army is as a whole of a lesser grade of intelligence, I believe that they are less informed of the plans than any one of our soldiers. I believed that should a spy try to get important information from a plain soldier he would learn little that would be interesting.

A further difficulty which however did not at once occur to me was that of establishing immediate communications with my own lines. Were I employed by the Austrian command, I certainly would have a great deal to do. The life of the two automobilists I had met was full of action and they had little peace either by night or by day. At times they even had to do the rounds for some enemy soldier if they wanted to get a bit of bread to appease their hunger. Therefore my time would be limited. How too could I explain my sudden disappearances, how explain to my companions all those complex secret manipulations necessary to establish communications with the other side? No, the plan of feigning to be a prisoner would not do. Some other plan had to be studied.

I really cannot understand why I worried my brain so hunting for something extraordinary when the simplest solution was to disguise myself as a peasant. No one can know better than I, who have lived in that region for so many years, the dialect, the customs of its peasants. It seemed therefore plausible that I should seek to become one of them, that I should essay to gain access to some isolated house unhaunted by enemy soldiers, there to establish my general headquarters whence I might get into communication with whatever favorable elements I might find in the nearby regions.

One of the methods I considered valuable for obtaining, without suspicion, the location of the enemy troops, was that of collecting such postcards and newspapers as soldiers often enough forget or leave in the houses where they have dwelt. For on the postcard, beside the address and the number of the regiment, there is always written the number of the Feld Post to which a soldier belongs and this number of the Feld Post corresponds to the number of the division to which the soldier belongs. It follows therefore that if I could communicate to our side many Feld Post numbers, they who had the division numbers corresponding to those of the Feld Post, would easily be able to compile the location of the enemy troops. This method then seemed to me the most feasible in that it did not entail such questions as might evoke suspicion, because the answers to my unspoken questions would be exact, and because before communicating a report it is ever necessary to have a document on which to base it.

The great difficulty of disguising myself as a peasant on account of my youthful aspect did however give me pause. I did not believe that those prisoners who succeeded in establishing themselves in the homes of friends in the invaded region were of my age, but rather men of an older class who furthermore caused the enemy to believe that they were yet older than in truth they were. Yet one way of conveying the impression that I was older than my years, was by growing a beard. I believed it would be well for me to let my beard grow, especially as many of the peasants of our regions, notably the mountaineers around Vittorio, have the habit of wearing a thick, untrimmed beard. I resolved then that from the morrow the barber should see me no more, in the hope that in a few weeks I should not recognize my own image in the mirror.

Lieut. Zannini, in his return flight to our own lines, made use of a small rowboat procured near Caorle. Through a small canal he reached the sea, and on a foggy night putting out further, succeeded in reaching our lines near Cortellazzo. Why couldn’t I do the same only in the opposite direction? It was true of course that Lieut. Zannini was directed towards our lines and that once he had passed the dangerous zone he had been certain of arriving among friends, whereas for me the difficulties were bound to increase rather than lessen as soon as I had arrived on the other side. Then too it was absolutely impossible to venture so blindly towards the enemy territory without the company of some fisherman from those regions who knew the coastline well and on what spot to make a landing. Quite true, but where were we to find such a fisherman and one willing to lend his services for so hazardous an undertaking?

One morning I consulted Lieut. Ancillotio about it. He is one of our expert pilots of chasing machines, and owns vast estates in the invaded regions, especially along the sea. Nearly all the lands of the lieutenant are interlaced with drainage canals. It appeared to me that perhaps one of his peasants would know the entire intricate system of canals which lead to the sea. It was no easy matter however to find a man sufficiently cold-blooded for an attempt at such an undertaking, and one possessing the proper physical and moral attributes necessary for its successful completion.

Who would assure me again that once we had arrived in enemy territory such a man would not lose his courage and betray me by some hasty move or a careless word? However, the more I thought of it, the more I was convinced that for such an enterprise I must have a trusted companion; and one not of officer rank lest there should develop two commands, and two opinions which at times might conflict. This companion must be simple, trustworthy, faithful; one whose sole task was tacitly to obey the orders received, and to be an instrument for furthering my plans and my decisions. There would be, too, moments in which I should need rest but I should not be able to sleep save someone be on guard. The greater my labor, the greater my efforts, the more necessary would it be for me to rest, that I might rebuild and restore my weakened energies for return to further work. In the same manner when my soldier should prove weary, I would stand on guard for him, and thus each would help the other.

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.