supremacy and they came well out of the trial. Ten enemy machines were
brought down during the day, two individual Italian airmen accounting
for three each. When the enemy machines were sighted heading for Udine
the jarring scream of a siren gave the alarm, and the police cleared the
streets.

Saturday, October 27, was the day of general exodus.

[Sidenote: Batteries hold rearward positions.]

I left Udine early on Saturday morning, in the car of the British
general commanding our artillery contingent on the Italian front, to go
up to the batteries and see how they got on in the retreat. We crawled
out toward the front along roads blocked with rearward-moving traffic
for which there was no organization, and after lunching at the general's
headquarters at Gradisca, I went on to Rubbia, just across the Isonzo,
to the south of Gorizia, where was the group headquarters of the
batteries. Already the supply service of the Third Army were pouring in
a black mass along the road, screened at the side and overhead by
rushmats from the observation of the enemy. Voices and hammering under
the long wooden bridge across the Isonzo at Rubbia were signs that the
Italian engineers were putting in position charges of explosive to blow
it up when as much material as possible had been brought over. Some of
our batteries had already been withdrawn to rearward positions not far
from group headquarters and were firing as fast as the guns could be
reloaded. The others were still in their old emplacements a mile or so
farther forward, being shelled terrifically by the Austrian twelve-inch
batteries, but having extraordinary luck. They were using up as much of
their ammunition as they could, because it was becoming clearer every
moment that the Italian transport service was not going to be able to