Chapter 25

           Nowinthefallthetreeswereallbareandtheroadsweremuddy.IrodetoGoriziafromUdineonacamion.WepassedothercamionsontheroadandIlookedatthecountry.Themulberrytreeswerebareandthefieldswerebrown.Therewerewetdeadleavesontheroadfromtherowsofbaretreesandmenwereworkingontheroad,tampingstoneintherutsfrompilesofcrushedstonealongthesideoftheroadbetweenthetrees.Wesawthetownwithamistoveritthatcutoffthemountains.WecrossedtheriverandIsawthatitwasrunninghigh.Ithadbeenraininginthemountains.WecameintothetownpastthefactoriesandthenthehousesandvillasandIsawthatmanymorehouseshadbeenhit.OnanarrowstreetwepassedaBritishRedCrossambulance.Thedriverworeacapandhisfacewasthinandverytanned.Ididnotknowhim.IgotdownfromthecamioninthebigsquareinfrontoftheTownMajor’shouse,thedriverhandeddownmyrucksackandIputitonandswungonthetwomusettesandwalkedtoourvilla.Itdidnotfeellikeahomecoming.

           Iwalkeddownthedampgraveldrivewaylookingatthevillathroughthetrees.Thewindowswereallshutbutthedoorwasopen.Iwentinandfoundthemajorsittingatatableinthebareroomwithmapsandtypedsheetsofpaperonthewall.

           "Hello,"hesaid."Howareyou?"Helookedolderanddrier.

           "I’mgood,"Isaid."Howiseverything?"

           "It’sallover,"hesaid."Takeoffyourkitandsitdown."Iputmypackandthetwomusettesonthefloorandmycaponthepack.