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Chapter 7

           Theyhadcomebackforhim.Heshookhisheadatme.Hishelmetwasoffandhisforeheadwasbleedingbelowthehairline.Hisnosewasskinnedandtherewasdustonthebloodypatchanddustinhishair.

           "Lookatthebump,lieutenant!"heshouted."Nothingtodo.Theycomebackforme."

           WhenIgotbacktothevillaitwasfiveo’clockandIwentoutwherewewashedthecars,totakeashower.ThenImadeoutmyreportinmyroom,sittinginmytrousersandanundershirtinfrontoftheopenwindow.IntwodaystheoffensivewastostartandIwouldgowiththecarstoPlava.ItwasalongtimesinceIhadwrittentotheStatesandIknewIshouldwritebutIhadletitgosolongthatitwasalmostimpossibletowritenow.Therewasnothingtowriteabout.IsentacoupleofarmyZonadiGuerrapost-cards,crossingouteverythingexcept,Iamwell.Thatshouldhandlethem.Thosepost-cardswouldbeveryfineinAmerica;strangeandmysterious.ThiswasastrangeandmysteriouswarzonebutIsupposeditwasquitewellrunandgrimcomparedtootherwarswiththeAustrians.TheAustrianarmywascreatedtogiveNapoleonvictories;anyNapoleon.IwishedwehadaNapoleon,butinsteadwehadIlGeneraleCadorna,fatandprosperousandVittorioEmmanuele,thetinymanwiththelongthinneckandthegoatbeard.OverontherighttheyhadtheDukeofAosta.Maybehewastoogood-lookingtobeagreatgeneralbuthelookedlikeaman.Lotsofthemwouldhavelikedhimtobeking.Helookedlikeaking.HewastheKing’suncleandcommandedthethirdarmy.Wewereinthesecondarmy.ThereweresomeBritishbatteriesupwiththethirdarmy.Ihadmettwogunnersfromthatlot,inMilan.Theywereveryniceandwehadabigevening.Theywerebigandshyandembarrassedandveryappreciativetogetherofanythingthathappened.IwishthatIwaswiththeBritish.Itwouldhavebeenmuchsimpler.

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