It was an unaccustomed feeling, after months of comparative immunity from observation behind mountain ridges, to be in flat country again.  At first we all felt a queer sense of insecurity whenever we walked about, even when thick hedges manifestly screened us from enemy eyes.  But the road from Lovadina to the river bank at Palazzon, which ran right through our position and within a few yards of our billet, was in full view, and no movement along it was permitted during daylight.  When we first arrived we found a deep sense of gloom prevailing amongst our advanced party.  They were convinced that our position had been spotted already, for the Austrians that morning had put down a five minutes’ concentration all round the place.  Nothing much heavier than Field Guns had been firing, but it had been lively while it lasted.  It seemed probable, however, on further inquiry, that this outburst had been caused by the fact that an idiotic officer belonging to the Battery immediately in rear of us had marched a working party up the road in fours, then halted them and allowed the men to stand about in groups on the road for several minutes.  It was at these groups that the Austrians had apparently been firing.  A vigorous protest extracted from our neighbours a promise that more common sense should be used in future.

We were to remain a silent Battery until the start of the offensive, and this was to be dependent on the height of the river, which at that time was in full flood owing to heavy rains in the mountains.  Our guns were well camouflaged and the chances of our detection seemed small.  But one day we had a lucky escape.  It was very clear and there had been great activity in the air on both sides all the morning.  All seemed quiet again, however, and we had the camouflage off one of our guns, and two small parties working in the open on shelter trenches behind.  A plane was seen approaching, but the air sentry, whose duty it was to keep a sharp look out through glasses and signal the approach of enemy aircraft by two blasts of a whistle, gave no warning.  He had been deceived by the marking on the plane, a very thin black cross instead of the thick one usually found on enemy aircraft.  Not till it was right upon us did he blow the whistle, and then it was too late.  The plane flew very low over us.  We could see the pilot looking calmly down at our uncovered gun, and our men trying, ineffectually and belatedly, to take cover.  He certainly took it all in and marked us down on his map.  The position was ’very easy to identify owing to the solitary farmhouse and the road close by.  A few rifle shots were fired, but they did him no harm, and he sailed away toward the river and his own lines.