Six Months On The Italien Front

By Julius M. Price

Six Months on the Italian Front is a memoir written by Julius M. Price, an American surgeon who served during World War I. The book chronicles Price's experiences as a medical officer and surgeon on the Italian Front during the war. The narrative provides a firsthand account of Price's service and the challenges he faced while working in a war zone. "Six Months on the Italian Front" is a valuable historical document that offers readers a unique perspective on the medical challenges and human experiences during World War I. It provides a vivid account of the sacrifices made by medical personnel and the resilience of those caught in the midst of war.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Otbebookpublishing
• Release date: Nov 20, 2023
• ISBN: 9783988269652

Julius M. Price

Julius Mendes Price, (1857 – 29 September 1924) was an artist, war correspondent, explorer, traveller, journalist and caricaturist for Vanity Fair. Several of his newspaper serial reports were later published in book form. At the start of WWI he was a war correspondent on the French front. In 1915–1917 he was a war artist and correspondent on the Italian front. During the Sixth Battle of the Isonzo in 1916 he was the only foreign correspondent present at the capture of Gorizia by the Italian army.

Book preview

Six Months

On The Italian Front

Julius M. Price

The author

The Author in San Martino del Carso.

PREFACE

As the reader will discover for himself, I have no pretensions to pose as a Military Expert. This book is the result of a few hasty impressions gathered over a period which, with all its minor inconveniences and little daily worries, I look back upon as among the happiest and best filled of a somewhat varied career. I have not yielded to the temptation to be interesting at the expense of veracity; to that fact the indulgent reader will, I trust, attribute many of the dull pages. If in the latter half of the book I have laid particular stress on the operations leading up to and culminating in the capture of Gorizia, I hope I may be forgiven, as I had the good luck to be the only foreign correspondent on the spot at these scenes of History-making. In my dedication I have paid a humble tribute to the many kindnesses I received at the hands of the Military Authorities, from His Excellency General Cadorna downwards. I can only repeat it here.

Julius M. Price.

21, Golden Square,

London, W.

January, 1917.

CONTENTS

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

CHAPTER I

Marching orders—I leave for Rome—Paris via Folkestone and Boulogne in war time—My campaigning kit—The war-correspondent’s list—Quaint item—Travelling light—A box of choice Havanas—Boulogne to Paris; well-intentioned ladies and their Woodbines—The one and only cigarette—Paris to Turin—Curious order on train—Method and prescience—Few soldiers on route—Arrival in Rome—A cheap room—No sign of excitement in streets—23rd May—Excitability of the Italian no longer noticeable—Rome unruffled—The declaration of war—On the Corso Umberto that evening—The Café Aragno—National stoicism—The Day—Business as usual—The general mobilisation—A triumph of organization—At the War Office.

CHAPTER I

Gerrard 2575?

Hello—Hello!

That you, Julius Price? Charles Ingram speaking—When are you starting for Italy?

I had only received my marching orders from the office the previous day, so the thought came to my mind Early next week, but I hadn’t the pluck to give expression to it. Instead, I compromised lamely with As soon as possible.

Rubbish! snapped the voice, Get off at once.

I had known my Charles Ingram—best of chiefs—most loyal of friends—too long to attempt to argue. I had started on too many journeys for The Illustrated London News not to realize that a War-Artist must have no collars to buy—no friends to bid farewell to—so there was only one stereotyped answer possible—All right, I’ll leave to-morrow morning.

Well, goodbye and good luck to you.

8.30 the following morning therefore saw me at Charing Cross, duly passported and baggaged, bound for Rome.

Although Italy had not yet officially declared her intention of joining in with the Allies, it was well known that it was but a matter of a few days before she would do so. The War fever all over Italy was at its height, and there seemed no possibility of anything occurring to influence adversely the decision of the King. The sands of time were rapidly running out, while Count Berchtold, the Austrian Chancellor, was deliberately—for the Allies, fortunately—playing with the destiny of his nation.

The centre of interest at the moment was obviously the Capital, so I was anxious to reach it in time to witness the historic scenes of the near future. Rumour had it that so eager was the nation to get to grips with its hereditary foe that a revolution would ensue were the King to hesitate as to his course of action, while it had been an open secret for some weeks that a general mobilisation of the Army and Navy had been in active progress since the commencement of the period of tension. Italy, therefore, was the point de mire of the entire world on the 20th of May, 1915, when I left London, and I could congratulate myself that, thanks to the journalistic flair of Charles Ingram, I should be on the spot in time for anything that might happen.

At that date one was still able to reach Paris via Folkestone and Boulogne—England was only just awakening to the fact she was at war—the popular short sea-passage route had not