Beasts of Both Worlds 1st Edition Milly

Taiden Taiden Milly

Visit to download the full and correct content document:
https://textbookfull.com/product/beasts-of-both-worlds-1st-edition-milly-taiden-taiden-
milly/
More products digital (pdf, epub, mobi) instant
download maybe you interests ...

Beasts of Both Worlds Paranormal Dating Agency Book 22

1st Edition Milly Taiden [Taiden

https://textbookfull.com/product/beasts-of-both-worlds-
paranormal-dating-agency-book-22-1st-edition-milly-taiden-taiden/

Piece of Tail 1st Edition Milly Taiden Taiden Milly

https://textbookfull.com/product/piece-of-tail-1st-edition-milly-
taiden-taiden-milly/

Hunting Ember 1st Edition Milly Taiden Taiden Milly

https://textbookfull.com/product/hunting-ember-1st-edition-milly-
taiden-taiden-milly/

Fearless Mating 1st Edition Milly Taiden Taiden Milly

https://textbookfull.com/product/fearless-mating-1st-edition-
milly-taiden-taiden-milly/
Dragons Savior 1st Edition Milly Taiden Taiden Milly

https://textbookfull.com/product/dragons-savior-1st-edition-
milly-taiden-taiden-milly/

Dragon Rights 1st Edition Milly Taiden Taiden Milly

https://textbookfull.com/product/dragon-rights-1st-edition-milly-
taiden-taiden-milly/

Oh My Roared 1st Edition Milly Taiden Taiden Milly

https://textbookfull.com/product/oh-my-roared-1st-edition-milly-
taiden-taiden-milly/

Kiss My Asteroid 1st Edition Milly Taiden Taiden Milly

https://textbookfull.com/product/kiss-my-asteroid-1st-edition-
milly-taiden-taiden-milly/

Scrooge Me Again 1st Edition Milly Taiden Taiden Milly

https://textbookfull.com/product/scrooge-me-again-1st-edition-
milly-taiden-taiden-milly/
BEASTS OF BOTH WORLDS
 MILLY TAIDEN

LATIN GODDESS PRESS, INC.

 CONTENTS

Beasts Of Both Worlds

Untitled

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Epilogue

About the Author

Also by Milly Taiden
Also by Milly Taiden
Also by Milly Taiden
Also by Milly Taiden
Also by Milly Taiden
 BEASTS OF BOTH WORLDS
PARANORMAL DATING AGENCY

NEW YORK TIMES and USA TODAY BESTSELLING AUTHOR

MILLY TAIDEN
 SIGN UP FOR MILLY TAIDEN’S NEWSLETTER FOR LATEST NEWS,
GIVEAWAYS, EXCERPTS, AND MORE!
http://eepurl.com/pt9q1

Fighting a lifetime of learned prejudice against shifters, Harlow

Quinn left home to escape her family. Never in her wildest dreams
did she expect to find Gerri Wilder of the Paranormal Dating Agency
and two smokin’ hot mates. Just thinking of them made her
hormones go up in flames.
Lux Luther, wolf alpha, and his tiger beta, Osian Drive knew they
would someday find the woman to complete their triad. They didn't
think she'd be so sassy and sexy. From the first glance, they had to
fight the dirty thoughts about Harlow and her gorgeous lips. But not
for long.
Targeted by a heinous group of anti-shifters, this unlikely
threesome must place the fate of their world in
their unwavering love and trust in one another or lose more than
just their happily ever after. Some horrors are worse than anything
ever imagined, and for Lux, Harlow, and Osian it’s a fight for
their very existence.
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are fictitious or
have been used fictitiously, and are not to be construed as real in any way. Any
resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales, or organizations is entirely
coincidental.

Published By
Latin Goddess Press
Winter Springs, FL 32708
http://millytaiden.com
Beasts of Both Worlds
Copyright © 2019 by Milly Taiden
Edited by: Tina Winograd
Cover: Willsin Rowe
All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner
whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in
critical articles and reviews.
Property of Milly Taiden
July 2019

Created with Vellum

 —For everyone looking for love

May the universe send you that special someone or someones to

complete you.
 1

H arlow Quinn glanced up quickly when she felt the jolt to the
shopping cart she pushed through the grocery store. “Oh,
shit.” Really? This was so not what she needed. “Ma’am, I’m
so sorry. I wasn’t looking where I was going. Please, excuse me.”
The older woman she’d bumped into gave her with a sweet
smile, her eyes an unusual blue that captivated. “No worries, dear.
Are you okay?”
Harlow felt tears gather in her eyes. Great, now she was a
sobbing idiot in the middle of the damn store. She needed to get her
life in order. All this pathetic bullshit had to stop.
The woman’s face turned concerned and she said, “Oh, did you
hurt yourself when we bumped into each other?”
Harlow sniffled. She wasn’t going to cry. Nope. That was for
sissies and she was a strong independent woman. She sniffled
again. Fuck. “I’m so embarrassed, sorry. I don’t mean to be such a
wuss.”
The woman smiled sympathetically and patted her arm. “My
name is Gerri. There’s a coffee shop next door. Why don’t you come
with me and tell me what’s bothering you? I have time and I might
be able to help.” Gerri wrapped her arm around her shoulders and
gently tugged her down the shopping aisle.
“That’s very sweet of you, ma’am,” she said with a wobbly voice,
“but I don’t want to impose. And honestly, I’m embarrassed. I don’t
usually cry this easily. It’s just been one of those days.”
Harlow glanced up as Gerri opened a glass door and the smell of
coffee hit her. The aroma immediately soothing some of her stress.
“I’m always looking for a reason to enjoy a cup of coffee with a
new friend and if I can get a nice coffee cake out of it, even better.
Now, sit anywhere.”
Harlow scanned the room and headed toward a table in the
corner. If she was going to bawl like a freaking baby, she wanted as
much privacy as possible.
“Hello, Mavis. Would you bring my usual and whatever my new
friend here wants, please?”
Harlow glanced over her shoulder at the woman standing behind
the counter and smiled. “Black coffee, please. Some cream on the
side.”
She took a seat and watched as Gerri stopped and chatted with
the other patrons as she moved through the shop.
“Are you a local celebrity or something?” Harlow felt her cheeks
heat after she asked. It was probably rude, but Gerri seemed to
know everyone.
“You could say I’m infamous in some circles.” Gerri sat and
smiled at her. She had a smile that made her look really young, but
the white hair had to mean she was a grandmother. Harlow didn’t
know anyone with hair that white. “Now, tell me what your name is
and what’s upsetting you.”
“Oh! I’m sorry. I can’t believe I didn’t introduce myself yet. My
name is Harlow Quinn. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Gerri.” Harlow
realized she never got the lady’s last name and it seemed impolite to
use her first without permission. She bit her lip and glanced around
to see if anyone was listening to their conversation.
“I apologize, ma’am. Should I call you Gerri or use your
surname? It seems rude to just say Gerri without asking.” Harlow
glanced up to the counter to see if their coffee was ready. She
wanted something to do with her hands. She didn’t know why but
she was nervous.
Gerri waved away her worry. “No worries! Please, call me Gerri. I
don’t stand for the formality. My name is Gerri Wilder. As for my
usual coffee order...I’m assuming that is why you asked if I was a
local celebrity, right?” Gerri paused and Harlow nodded. Sure, that
excuse would work.
“I run a dating agency and like to come here occasionally to
meet with clients. Plus, I’m a dessert snob and love anything sweet.
They make the best stuff here. Pastries are the second way I like to
suck on some cream.”
Harlow gaped at Gerri. Did she… Was she being dirty? This elder
woman didn’t seem the type but those had been the words out of
her mouth.
“I’m sorry,” Harlow cleared her throat.
“Don’t be,” Gerri grinned wide, her eyes bright with humor. “You
shouldn’t take life so seriously. It’s not like you’re going to get out of
it alive.”
She nodded absently. Harlow wasn’t sure what was happening.
Why was she sitting in a coffee shop with a dating guru? The barista
walked over and delivered their coffees and an assortment of
pastries. She glanced up to thank her and was startled to see the
woman staring at her with a quizzical look.
“Is something wrong?” Harlow glanced at Gerri to see if she
knew what was going on.
“I’m sorry, ma’am. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I
was trying to guess who Gerri, here, would set you up with.” The
barista laughed and walked back behind the counter.
Harlow gaped at the woman then turned to Gerri. “She’s kidding,
right? I mean you don’t even know me. Hell, I’m not even sure how
I got here or why I’m still sitting here, honestly.”
Gerri chuckled and picked up her tea. “Have a scone, dear.
They’re delicious. Make sure you put a generous amount of that
clotted cream. They make it fresh and the jam too.” Gerri took
another sip of tea and sat back. “You looked like you needed a friend
and I had the time to be that friend. Sometimes talking to strangers
is easier than a close friend. So, what happened to make you cry
today?”
Harlow sighed and closed her eyes a second. Maybe she was
right. Sometimes an impartial point of view could put things in
perspective. “Okay, I woke up this morning to a certified letter from
my boss laying me off without notice. Then my mom left a voicemail
while I was in the shower, berating me on life in general.
“I’m not making the family proud. But at least my brother is
helping her. I had a crappy dream about an ex-boyfriend and his
new glamorous girlfriend. Usual stuff but combined with the letter…”
she cleared her throat and added a little cream and sugar to her
coffee. “I’ve been busting my ass at that job. Working all hours and
going above and beyond. Do you think they cared?” She sniffled but
refused to start crying again. “At the end of the day, I’m just another
number on a spreadsheet and all my efforts were in vain.” She
paused and took a fortifying sip of her coffee and a huge bite of
scone slathered with cream and jam. She moaned as a hint of vanilla
and strawberries touched her tongue. “Holy shit, this is amazing.”
Gerri chuckled and nodded. “They are and that doesn’t explain
why the breakdown in the grocery store.” Harlow wiped her hands
on a napkin and glanced up at Gerri then back to the table in front
of her.
“I was feeling low after everything but decided to just move on. I
wasn’t happy at work and had been thinking about a new job
anyway. And Ma... Well, nothing will change there so I went grocery
shopping.” She paused a second and recalled the email she received
a short time ago.
“This year is also my ten-year high school reunion.” Her
shoulders slumped. “Can you believe it? I thought I’d have my life
together by now. A great job. A wonderful man. One or two kids.
You know, the white picket fence and all that.” She sighed. “Instead,
I’m unemployed, single, with a family from hell and zero prospects in
any direction.”
“Tell me more about this reunion,” Gerri said.
“I was planning to skip it but got an email from the head of the
planning committee and my personal nemesis. She stated she was
sure I hadn’t changed at all since school, so she was giving my ‘plus
one’ status to someone else who needed an extra ticket.” Harlow slid
a bit lower in her chair and avoided Gerri’s eyes. Gerri didn’t say
anything but listened intently, sipping on her drink.
 “In high school, I was a wallflower. I didn’t have any friends. I
was too shy, too quiet, just too different to fit in. I was just not the
social butterfly other women are. Anyway, the head cheerleader,
prom queen—you know the type, the clique popular girl—for some
reason made it her mission to hate me. She belittled me all the time.
“I don’t know why, honestly. I guess it made her feel better and
that was all that was important. So, I didn’t date at all, and actually,
I haven’t dated really since then. My family isn’t one you would take
someone home to.”
“I see. You lost your job, your mom made you feel like shit, and
then the clique mean girl dropped back into your life. I could see
how that would take a toll. You need a few orgasms to make life
look a bit brighter.” Gerri calmly took a bite of a scone she picked up
and winked at Harlow.
 2

H arlow choked on the sip of coffee she had just taken and
glanced around quickly to see if anyone else heard her bold
statement.
“Did you say I need orgasms?” Harlow was sure she was
blushing, so she buried her face in her hands. “I can’t be having this
conversation with a stranger who is old enough to be my mother. No
offense, ma’am.” Harlow groaned and shook her head. Trust her to
find the one crazy person that looked sane and decide to have coffee
with the woman.
“Psshh, none taken. If it’s done right, we never outgrow the need
or desire for a good orgasm. But I will revise my earlier statement.
You need orgasms and love. Companionship to keep you occupied in
and out of bed, to be there when you need a shoulder or two. Let
me help you with that, darling. It is my specialty as you heard.”
She frowned, shaking her head. “I don’t understand. Why you
would do that for me though? You don’t know me, and I can’t afford
to pay right now. I need to save everything I can until I get a new
job.”
“I like to help people and I have a good sense of who is
deserving and you, my dear, are very deserving. I might also be able
to help you with a job, but we will come back to that in a few
minutes. Now, tell me when your reunion is and how would you feel
about the hottest date you could ever imagine escorting you.”
 “It’s next week. I didn’t RSVP though, so not sure there’s enough
time for me to do it.” Harlow’s stomach turned at the thought of
being around Mindy again. Why was it high school could have such a
hold on you so many years later? Based on her behavior today, you
would never know she normally felt confident and happy. But the
thought of high school brought up her insecurities. It’s like that part
of her only showed up when evil spawn from hell cheerleader came
into her life.
“Respond to the email right now,” Gerri said.
Harlow pulled out her phone and brought up a reply screen.
“Say you will be in attendance and will be bringing guests. Say,
since she was willing to offer extra spots to others, she would do
you the same courtesy. Then do not reply or open another email
from her. Let her guess how many people you are bringing. She will
be eaten up with jealously thinking you have more than one date.”
Harlow typed a return email as fast as Gerri talked but she did
pause over the word guests, as in plural, but Gerri’s explanation
soothed her nerves. She could only handle one stranger on a date,
but the idea of two or more…yeah, that sounded really good to her
libido. Not to mention imagining Mindy’s ugly scowl while reading
she might have more than one date. That was priceless.
“What do you need from me to find a date?” Harlow got goose
bumps across her arms when she thought of the possibility of going
on a real date with a hot guy like Gerri promised.
She glanced up to see Gerri smiling at her with a slightly manic
grin. “Give me the details of the party. Where it is, what time, and
the date. Your studs will meet you outside the doors and escort you
in. Trust me, and dress to impress, my dear. By the time the night is
over, you just might get the O’s you are craving.” Gerri laughed and
pushed her chair back. “Here’s my business card. Text me or call if
you need anything. In the meantime, relax.”
Harlow watched Gerri walk to the counter and speak to the
barista who glanced at her with a smile and a wave. Then Gerri left
and the woman came over to her. “Gerri paid for everything, so you
are good. Do me a favor, though. Come back in after your date and
let me know what you get set up with, please. I live vicariously
through Gerri’s matches.”
Harlow was laughing then stopped. “Wait, you mean who I get
set up with, right?”
The barista sat in the chair across from her. “No, I meant what.
You do know she is a shifter, right? She runs the Paranormal Dating
Agency and sets up humans with shifters.”
Harlow stood up so fast, her chair hit the ground behind her. “I
have to go.” She ran from the shop with her stomach turning and
tears pouring down her face again.
 3

“O sian, I just got the weirdest email.” Lux Luther glanced

up from his cell phone to see his beta staring out the
front window. “What are you doing? Are you even
listening to me?” Osian grunted. Lux assumed it was supposed to be
some kind of acknowledgment to his questions.
“Anyway, I’ve decided to step down as pack alpha and make you
the next leader. I’m going to join a monastery.” Lux tried not to
laugh, but Osian was obviously not listening to a word he said.
“Dude, are you hearing me?”
Lux picked up a book lying on the end table next to him and
chucked it at Osian’s back. Osian jumped and spun around. “You
know for a tiger, you’re awfully unaware of your surroundings.” Lux
laughed at the startled look on his best friend’s face.
“I’m in the pack alpha’s house. You of all people have my back. I
can let my awareness go if needed for a few minutes. What did I
miss?” Osian glanced around the room then back at him.
“I said I got a strange email and wanted to share it with you.”
Osian frowned and walked over to the couch.
“What do you mean strange?”
Lux bit his lip and glanced down to his phone. “I guess it’s more
who it’s from that’s weird.” Lux knew he was being an ass, but he
was going to draw it out just to mess with his beta.
“Dammit, Lux, just tell me already.”
 Lux laughed. “So impatient! Gerri Wilder.”
Osian jumped up and headed back to the window. “Dude, how
did she get your email? And what does she want?” Osian glanced
around outside again and then glanced at Lux over his shoulder.
“Osian Drive, what is wrong with you today? She sent you the
email, too, by the way. I’m sure you can imagine why she is reaching
out to us. She found our third.” Lux got off the couch and stood next
to Osian. He really wanted to know what he was looking at outside,
or what he was looking for.
“Lux, how did she get our emails? She’s freaky scary! How does
she know she found our mate? I told you she was odd. All those
stories about her and how she finds anyone’s true mate. Man, that’s
some crazy shit. Now, we’re on her radar!”
Lux laughed and clasped Os on the shoulder. “Everyone knows
the Paranormal Dating Agency matchmaker. I’m sure my mom had
something to do with this. She’s been telling me for ages to go meet
her friend Gerri and let her set us up. She must have taken matters
into her own hands. Don’t worry so much about Gerri, she’s
harmless.”
Osian shook his head before Lux had finished talking. “Shhh,
somehow she will hear us talking about her. I don’t want that
woman to be aware we know she’s just a bit odd. Okay, a lot odd,
but really, she’s scary!”
Lux could barely stop laughing to respond to Os’s long-winded
rant. Thankfully he was saved by his phone ringing. He turned, then
Osian stopped him with a hand on his arm. “I’m telling you, that’s
her calling now. Do not pick it up! This otherworld knowing shit is
crazy! Hell, maybe she’s a witchy shifter. Fuck, I don’t know, but she
scares me.”
Lux stared at his best friend like he had turned into a pod
person. What happened to his staid, reserved beta? This was
unusual, but he couldn’t ignore Gerri Wilder. He would have to find
out later what was really going on with Os.
“Hello, this is Lux.”
“Hello, Lux. It’s Gerri Wilder. I assume you got my email.”
 Lux stared at Osian, his eyes wide and nodded. Osian whispered
quietly, “I told you it would be her! See, scary as hell!” Osian slashed
his hands through the air and paced. Lux didn’t know what he
expected, but he wasn’t stupid enough to hang up the phone.
“Yes.” He paused to clear his throat. “Sorry, we did get your
email. It was quite unexpected.” Lux put the phone on speaker so
Osian could listen in. “Ms. Wilder, Osian is here with me and I have
you on speaker.”
“Hello, Osian. I appreciate you taking my call today. I know you
are probably pacing and worried about why I called. I promise, I’m
only trying to help you. Nothing more.”
Osian glanced at Lux with shock on his face. “Um, hello, ma’am.
It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Gerri barked a laugh over the phone. “Come now. I know you are
apprehensive about me, but I found your mate. One would think
that if a tiger and a wolf can put away their normal reticence to live
together and become best of friends, then you can ignore any
feelings you have about me.”
Lux chuckled softly. “Very true, ma’am. Can we ask how you
know this woman? And we assume it’s a woman as we have no
tendencies to the other way. Also, how do you know she is our
mate? You’ve never met us before.” Osian stood in front him,
nodding vigorously.
“Osian, you’re going to give yourself a neck ache. Just relax a
moment. I’m sure you both have heard about where I’m from,
correct?” Osian nodded and Lux rolled his eyes at his friend.
“Osian has gone mute apparently, but yes, we know you’re from
somewhere else.” On the other end of the phone, Gerri chuckled.
“Well, Osian is right about me. Well, kind of. I’m not your typical
shifter even for an alien shifter. When I meet someone, I just know.
Shifters, whether everyone wants to admit, are family, and I know
what is best for my family. So, I’m sending you another email. This
one has the name of your date, where to meet her, and what
information you need to know about her. Any questions?”
Lux stared into space for a moment, imagining what their mate
looked like, what she sounded like. Would she accept having two
mates, and them being two different shifter species? Osian’s voice
brought him out of his head.
“Yes, ma’am, we understand and thank you for thinking of us.”
Osian quickly said goodbye and leaned over, hitting the end button
on the phone.
“Os, man, I had questions for her.”
Osian rolled his eyes. “Send her an email. I wasn’t staying on the
phone with the witchy shifter any longer. She is spooky!”
Lux’s phone beeped in his hand. He glanced down to see the
email came in already. Osian heard it too and jumped to sit on the
couch next to him. “Dude, you do not need to be that close. Read
the email on your own phone. You’re breathing heavy in my ear. And
that better be your phone in your pocket.”
Osian quietly scooted away and picked up his cell phone off the
coffee table. “Sorry, man, but our mate! I got a little excited thinking
of the possibilities.”
Lux didn’t want to even think about sex so soon after Osian
breathing in his ear. They were close but not that close! He shook
his head and opened the email from Gerri Wilder.
Lux, Osian,
Thank you for taking my call. I understand this is unusual. I
normally am acquainted with my clients, but I just knew when I met
Harlow Quinn, she was someone special.
It only took a moment for your names to pop into my head as
her mates. Harlow is attending her ten-year high school reunion and
she’s not happy about it, honestly. She was a loner and the head
bitch gave her a hard time, so she needs to show up looking
amazing with two of the hottest dates they have ever seen.
Yes, I expect both of you to be there and be ready to knock her
socks off.
I’m including the information here for you. I trust you will be on
time and won’t make me regret reaching out to you boys. —Yes,
Osian, that was for you— Now, the girl is lonely, so I expect you to
show her a “good time.”
Always in love,
Gerri Wilder
 Lux stared at the information including date and time, taking in
what he read. “Um, was Gerri implying we have sex with our mate
right away? I mean, I know the pull is usually overpowering at first,
but shouldn’t we give her some time to adjust to two of us? Hell, did
Gerri even say if she was a shifter or human?” Osian started scrolling
up the email again looking for the answer.
Lux didn’t need to look. He’d memorized all the information
already. “No, she didn’t specify. Does it matter to you?” He didn’t
care as long as he could call her theirs.
“Nah, not at all. I thought knowing if she was human or shifter,
though, would give us an idea of how to approach the whole mate
situation. Most humans have either never met one of us or don’t
believe we are real.” Osian spoke the truth and it was one Lux hadn’t
thought of beforehand.
“I guess we need to be careful and take it step by step until we
know more.” Lux sat back against the seat with a smile on his face.
“Harlow.” Osian said her name and glanced at him.
“Yeah, Harlow.”
Both men smiled and relaxed into the couch.
 4

H arlow raced home from the grocery store, tears still

streaming down her face. Now she was more stressed out
than before. Shit! She needed to contact Gerri and tell her
to call it off. There was no way she could date shifters. God. Real
shapeshifters? Yeah, that would be her luck. Her family would kill
her and that wasn’t a figure of speech.
They hated shifters and made it their life’s work to eradicate
them from the planet. Luckily, her family hadn’t done so well so far,
but they were a menace and mean. They targeted other humans
who worked with shifters, dated them, or even those who were
friendly with them. They weren’t completely stupid. They knew they
couldn’t overpower any shifter, so they went after those vulnerable.
Harlow would be one of those vulnerable people. Her family
didn’t care about her. They only wanted her to lure shifters in so
they could trap them, and she refused. So, she left home as soon as
she graduated and moved the next town away. It wasn’t far but
enough that no one would come looking for her if she became
friendly with a shifter.
Harlow pulled out the business card Gerri had given her and
stared at it. Paranormal Dating Agency, Owner Gerri Wilder. It had
been in front of her and she hadn’t once glanced down to read the
card. Hell, she should have just asked more questions instead of just
going blindly along.
 Seriously, how was Gerri going to find her a date when she didn’t
ask one thing about who or what qualities she was looking for in a
date?
Determined, Harlow pulled her phone out of her purse and
walked into her bedroom, plopping down on the bed, then started
typing.
Hello, Gerri.
It’s Harlow. Thank you for your compassion today. It was
unexpected and much welcome. But I can’t allow you to set me up
on a date. You don’t understand and I’m embarrassed to tell you
why. Just suffice it to say I found out you run a dating agency for
shifters, and I can’t be on a date with one. I’m very sorry to waste
your time.
Harlow
She dropped back onto her bed with a groan after hitting send.
Shit! She already told Mindy she was coming to the reunion with
guests. She couldn’t show up alone or skip it now. That would make
her look pathetic and like she lied.
She couldn’t allow that woman to think that about her. Even if
she never saw her again, it would bother her the twat thought she
was better and chased her away from the reunion. Or worse, caused
her to lie about having multiple dates. Dammit. She had to find one
person to go with her at least.
She quickly started typing on her phone again.
Gerri! I need a human date to meet me at the reunion. I can’t
skip and pretend like I was saving face in my email. I need to be
there with a hot HUMAN guy. Can you help me just this once,
please? I know you do shifters normally, but I don’t have anyone
else to help me.
Harlow hit send and reread what she had written.
She groaned out loud. She couldn’t believe she said, “she knew
Gerri did shifters,” then again, the old lady might laugh and not get
embarrassed at all. She definitely wasn’t the average grandma.
Harlow was still giggling when her phone beeped indicating a new
text message.
 You are right, my dear. I do shifters. Trust me to send you
exactly what you need and all will be well. I took the liberty of
making you an appointment at a little boutique down the street. And
a friend of mine will be coming over the afternoon of the reunion
around four p.m. to do your hair and makeup. Just consider me your
fairy godmother. Later we can talk about naming a child after me as
a thank you.
Hugs, Gerri
Harlow sighed and her shoulders dropped a little. She could feel
the tension draining away. She wasn’t going to stress about it. Gerri
said to trust her, and for some reason, Harlow did. Her phone pinged
again, and Harlow glanced down once more.
Be at A Lady’s Mystique tomorrow at three p.m. Ask for Natalia.
She really was her fairy godmother in disguise! Harlow got up to
search the internet for a new job. She forgot to ask Gerri about the
job she mentioned. She could do that later. She’d already done so
much for her; she didn’t want to push for more.
 5

H arlow paced the sidewalk outside A Lady’s Mystique

Boutique. The clothes in the window were nicer than
anything she had ever owned. She wasn’t sure she was in
the right place. She couldn’t afford anything in there, especially
without a job.
A bell tinkled and a light and airy voice called out. “Gerri said you
might be shy, and I should drag you inside if I saw you outside
dawdling.” Harlow spun around and gasped. The woman who called
out to her… well, she was stunning. She was a couple inches taller
than her own five-foot-five inches, but she was much slimmer.
The woman had just enough curves to make her hourglass figure
stand out and her green eyes and fire-red hair were made for a
model. Harlow felt dowdy and plain compared to her. Would they
even have anything in the store for a shorter, chunkier girl like her?
She had curves, too, but they were just more padded than the
statuesque woman who waited for her response. “I’m sorry. You
startled me! Yes, I was looking at the stunning clothes in your
window. I’m not sure I am in the right place. The clothes don’t look
like they would fit me at all. Plus, I can’t afford anything this
gorgeous.”
“Are you Harlow?”
She nodded and took a step closer to the woman holding the
door. “My name is Natalia, and you are in the right place.” The
woman gestured for Harlow to step inside and she smiled, waiting.
Harlow gripped her purse strap in both hands and took a deep
breath before walking into the store. She paused just inside and
glanced around.
“Gerri gave me an idea of your size, so I picked out some dresses
for you to try on. If you will, follow me to the back and the private
dressing room I have set up for you.” Natalia lightly rubbed her hand
across Harlow’s shoulder then walked off.
Harlow followed behind and realized she was acting like she was
sixteen and that insecure girl she once was. It was time to show
these women the confident and happy woman she had become.
“Natalia, I’m sorry for my hesitancy. This reunion has thrown me
in a tailspin, and I find myself reverting to my younger years. Thank
you for taking the time to meet with me on short notice. I look
forward to seeing what you have for me.”
Natalia gave her a genuine smile and opened the first dressing
room door. “Trust me to find the perfect dress for you. I took the
liberty of placing undergarments in the dressing room in a couple
different sizes. When you feel sexy, it shows, and the right set of
lingerie does that for a woman.”
Harlow stepped into the room and let the door fall shut behind
her. Hanging on the hook was the sexiest, sheerest, bra and panties
set she had ever seen. Two different sizes and three different colors.
Red, black, and beige were her choices, but she didn’t know which
to pick until she saw the dresses she was to try on. “Natalia, does it
matter which set I choose, color wise?”
Tinkling laughter came through the door and Harlow groaned. Of
course, the stunning woman would laugh like a fairy. “No, put one
on for now and then you can decide which set matches the dress
you pick. Or better yet, take all three home with you.” Natalia
knocked on the door and opened it slightly to give her two dresses
to start with. “Try them on and come out here.”
Harlow took the dresses and hung them on the back of the door.
The first one was a red handkerchief-style dress. It looked fun and
flirty, probably would hang nicely off her figure and hide anything
she didn’t want seen.
 The second was a black cocktail dress, a little flashier than she
wanted for this event, but one she would keep in mind for future
events. Her mind made up, she undressed and reached for the red
bra set and slipped them on. The silk slid up her legs and she
shivered at the cool touch. The bra was the perfect fit. It cupped her
breasts and made them look ten years younger.
“Well, hello, ladies. I had forgotten you could stand so proud.”
She chuckled at herself, but it was amazing what a good bra with
support could do for a woman’s breasts. Harlow reached out to slide
the red dress off the hanger and eagerly pulled it on. She let it slide
down her body and slowly raised her eyes to the mirror in front of
her. She gasped and twirled in the dressing room, watching herself
in the mirror.
“Harlow, come out, please. I would like to see which you chose
to try on first and how it fits.”
Harlow slowly opened the door and stepped out in front of
Natalia. “Turn around, please. I want to see it from all sides.” Natalia
stared at her and inspected every inch of her body. She could feel
her gaze as she turned. When she finally faced her again, Natalia
had a huge smile on her face.
“I knew this dress would be perfect on you. It shows off your
lovely breasts, dips low enough for just the swell to show. The
spaghetti straps allow your gorgeous shoulders and arms to shine.
The dress accentuates your body without hiding anything. Perfect, if
I do say so myself, and red is your color. You are positively glowing.”
Natalia beamed at her and ushered her to the couch. “Now, how do
you feel about shoes with heels?”
Harlow laughed. She felt like she was caught up in a whirlwind,
but she was excited to see what shoes Natalia brought out for her to
try on. “I don’t usually wear high heels, but maybe something with a
slight heel so I can be a bit taller. Nothing too big, though. I want to
be able to walk without falling on my face.”
Natalia smiled and walked away. It only took a moment for her to
come back. In her hands, she held black-strapped open-toed shoes.
They had a slight heel and the strap that went around her ankle
wore red gems.
 They matched the dress perfectly and Harlow was eager to see
the combination.
“Allow me to help you slip them on.” Natalia knelt at her feet, and
within moments, she was up and waiting for Harlow to look in the
mirror.
“Oh, Natalia, you are amazing. I couldn’t have found this outfit
myself. It’s stunning.” She turned and hugged the other woman. Left
to her own devices, she would have shown up in pants and a nice
shirt. Fashion escaped her for some reason.
“I admit you look even better than I expected. Now, go change
and I will get everything ready for you.” Harlow had trouble pulling
herself away from the mirror. She couldn’t wait to see what she
looked like when her hair and makeup were done, too.
“Leave the underwear on and just hand me the dress,” Natalia
called and Harlow opened the door, sliding the hangered dress out
and then pulling the door closed.
She quickly changed, stuffing her original undergarments in her
purse and walked out to find Natalia waiting at the counter with
bags in front of her. “Gerri took care of everything. I included a few
other items in the bag for you. I hope you don’t mind.” The woman
winked at her.
Harlow was speechless. “Thank you. I keep saying that to you,
but I really mean it.”
Natalia waved her words away. “Just stop in after your event and
let me see pictures of you and your date.”
Harlow smiled and picked up her bag. “That’s a deal.”
Another random document with
no related content on Scribd:
was a veritable citadel in course of construction, with armoured
trenches, sandbag emplacements for big guns, barbed-wire
entanglements; in fact, everything that modern military science can
contrive to insure impregnability.
The whole place was teeming with activity, and looked like a
gigantic ant-heap; on all sides soldiers were to be seen at work, and
it was evident that those in charge of this important position were
determined to leave nothing to luck. The little that nature had left
unprotected was being made good by the untiring efforts and genius
of the Italians, and the Austrian chances of ever capturing the place
are practically nil. Its curious configuration largely contributes to its
impregnability and power of resistance if ever besieged.
Behind its line of armoured trenches is a deep hollow, which could
shelter an army corps if necessary; and here, under complete cover,
are well-built, barrack-like buildings, in which the troops can be
comfortably quartered during the long winter months when the fort is
buried under yards of snow and practically isolated from the outer
world.
 As he whirled past in the big car (see page 50)
To face page 88

The position on the Forcola is probably unique in the world, as it is

situated exactly at a point where three frontiers meet: the Italian,
Austrian and Swiss. From its sandbag ramparts on the front facing
the Austrians one has the most sublime vista of mountain scenery it
would be possible to conceive. It is impossible in mere words to
attempt to convey anything but the faintest impression of it, yet it
would be a sin of omission not to endeavour to.
 As I gazed in front of me, the marvellous beauty of the scene held
me in rapt suspense, and for a few moments the war passed from
my mind.
The Austrian Tyrol was before me, a panorama of wondrous
mountain peaks stretching away into the mist of the far distance, and
towering above the highest was the mighty Ortler, crowned with
eternal snow, and positively awe-inspiring in its stately grandeur.
My reverie was abruptly disturbed by the boom of a big gun. I was
back again amongst realities, yet how puny did the biggest efforts of
mankind at war appear in comparison with all this splendour of
nature. Had it not been for the echoes produced by these giant
peaks the report of even the heavy artillery would probably have
scarcely been heard.
The Swiss and Austrian frontiers meet on the summit of a
Brobdingnagian cliff of rock of strange formation, which towers
above the Forcola. Through field glasses the frontier guards and the
blockhouses are plainly discernable.
This overhanging proximity of the enemy strikes me as constituting
a constant menace to the Italian position, as every movement within
its enceinte is visible from the height above. The fact also of the
Austrian and Swiss frontier guards being so close to each other as to
be able to fraternise must inevitably conduce to espionage.
Doubtless, however, all this has been well considered by the Italians,
and they are not likely to be caught napping.
Rateau and I had a very cordial reception, and the officer in
command of the position took a visible pride in showing us round it
and explaining everything, whilst I made a lot of interesting sketches.
The ability and rapidity with which it had been constructed and
fortified were worthy of the very highest praise. Such a fortress
brought into being in so short a time and at such an altitude was in
itself such a marvel of military capacity that one was lost in wonder
at it all. Evidently no obstacle presented by nature deterred its
accomplishment.
 In the emplacements were guns of a calibre one certainly never
expected to see except in the valley, and you were lost in conjecture
how the feat of getting them up here was achieved.
Everything was approaching completion, and by the time the snow
set in and the position would be practically cut off from the lower
world it would be a big, self-contained arsenal with all that was
necessary for carrying on its share of the general scheme of
operations on the Frontier without extraneous assistance should the
rigours of the Alpine winter render it unapproachable.
In the warfare in the mountains, positions develop more or less
into isolated communities, as the men seldom have an opportunity of
going down to the busy world below, besides which the summer is so
brief at these altitudes. Even on the date we were at the Forcola, the
twentieth of August, there were already unmistakable signs of the
approach of winter; the air was decidedly frosty—there had been a
fall of snow a few hours previously, and most of the peaks were
powdered with silvery white.
We gladly accepted the invitation to have some lunch in the mess-
room, for the keen air had given both of us healthy appetites, and
while we were doing justice to a well-cooked steak with fried
potatoes and a flask of very excellent Valtellino. I had a chat with
some of the younger officers, and learned to my surprise that they
had not stirred from the place since they had come up nearly three
months before, and they had no hope of getting leave for a long time
to come as things were developing and the winter coming along. A
visit from two civilians like ourselves, who could give them some
news of the outside world, was therefore a veritable red-letter day for
them.
Yet, in spite of the monotony of their existence, these cheery
fellows did not complain. There was always plenty to occupy their
minds, they said, and prevent them from brooding over old times. To
defend the Forcola at all hazards was now their sole pre-occupation;
and after all, they added, with an attempt at mirth, they might easily
have been stationed in a still more isolated spot and with fewer
companions. Such admirable equanimity was only what I expected
to find now that I knew the Italian soldier, so it did not surprise me at
all.
After lunch, as the Austrian batteries seemed to be getting busier,
we strolled up to the “observation post,” a sort of tunnel in which was
a telephone installation and an instrument known as a “goniometre,”
a powerful telescope in miniature, combined with a novel kind of
range-finder, through which the slightest movement of the enemy
can be instantly detected and telephoned to the officers in command
of the different gun emplacements. The machine is always in
readiness, as it is so fixed that once it is focussed it requires no re-
adjustment.
There was a small, irregular hole at the end of the tunnel that
faced the enemy’s line, and through this the goniometre pointed.
Two soldiers were on duty, one to keep his eye on the opposite
mountain, the other to manipulate the telephone. It evidently required
some practice to use the telescope, as I had a good look through it
and could scarcely make out anything.
When we visited the post the Italian batteries were not yet replying
to what I was informed were only the usual daily greetings of the
Austrians, but their response would doubtless be sent in due course,
judging from the conversation of the operator with the telephone.
Everything we saw was so absorbingly interesting that we should
have liked to remain on the Forcola many hours more, but time was
getting on by now, and we had to think of getting back.
As may be imagined, after my experience coming up I was
particularly dreading this moment to arrive. I thought it best,
however, to say nothing and trust to luck in getting down without
another attack of vertigo. When we said goodbye to our genial hosts,
several soldiers were about to descend also, so we were to have
company.
“Three minutes interval between each man and go as fast as
possible,” called out an officer, and off went everyone at a given
signal. Rateau was just before me and, as it turned out, I was last.
 I felt like the prisoners in the Conciergerie during the reign of terror
must have felt as they waited their turn to go out to the fatal tumbril.
Through the opening in the sandbags only a bit of the narrow
pathway was visible, as it turned sharply to the right and went down
the face of the cliff beyond. It was like looking out on limitless space.
“Well, goodbye and a pleasant journey,” said the officer to me
when my turn came.
Out I went, putting my hand over my left eye to avoid looking into
the void, and I managed to run like this all the way down.
It was getting late when we got back to Bormio, so we decided to
remain another night, and were glad we did, as an amusing incident
occurred during the evening.
Whilst we were finishing dinner at the hotel, we received a note
inviting us afterwards to smoke a cigar and take a glass of wine with
the sergeants of the regiment quartered in the town. Of course we
accepted and duly turned up.
The reception—for such it was—took place in a large private room
of the hotel we were staying in, and we were greeted with the utmost
cordiality.
There was a big display of a certain very famous brand of
champagne on a side table, and the corks soon began to fly merrily;
toasts were given as usual, and everything was pleasant. During a
pause a sergeant next to me, who spoke French fluently, asked me
how I liked the wine.
In jocular vein I replied that it was excellent, but it was a pity it is
German, as it is well known that the owner of the vineyards near
Rheims is at present interned in France. To my surprise he took my
words seriously; there was an icy moment as he communicated my
remarks to his comrades, and then, as though with one accord, there
was a crash of broken glass, and we had to finish up the evening for
patriotic reasons on Asti Spumante.
 CHAPTER IX

From Brescia to Verona—Absence of military movement in rural

districts—Verona—No time for sightseeing—The axis of the Trentino
—Roveretto, the focus of operations—Fort Pozzachio—A “dummy
fortress”—Wasted labour—Interesting incident—Excursion to Ala—
Lunch to the correspondents—Ingenious ferry-boat on River Adige—
The Valley of the Adige—Wonderful panorama—“No sketching
allowed”—Curious finish of incident—Austrian positions—Desperate
fighting—From Verona to Vicenza—The positions of Fiera di
Primiero—Capture of Monte Marmolada—The Dolomites—Their
weird fascination—A striking incident—The attempted suicide—The
Col di Lana—Up the mountains on mules—Sturdy Alpini—Method of
getting guns and supplies to these great heights—The observation
post and telephone cabin on summit—The Colonel of Artillery—What
it would have cost to capture the Col di Lana then—The Colonel has
an idea—The idea put into execution—The development of the idea
—Effect on the Col di Lana—An object lesson—The Colonel gets
into hot water—The return down the mountains—Caprili—Under fire
—We make for shelter—The village muck-heap—Unpleasant
position—A fine example of coolness—The wounded mule—An
impromptu dressing.
 CHAPTER IX
It has been said that “who holds the Trentino holds not merely the
line of the Alps and the Passes, but the mouths of the Passes and
the villages which debouch into the Lombard Plain.”
The significance of this statement was being continually brought
home to me here on this northern frontier of Italy, and you could not
shut your eyes to the fact that the very safety of the whole country
depended on the army making good its “tiger spring” in the first
hours of the war.
It was not so much the necessity for an aggressive movement, but
for what one might term a successful defensive—offensive, and it
cannot be gainsaid—and even the Austrians themselves would
admit it, that in this respect the Italians scored everywhere along the
line.
General Cadorna’s remarkable power of intuition was evidenced
by every movement of the army from the outset, but nowhere more
noticeably than in the Trentino sector at this early stage of the war,
when the slightest miscalculation on his part would most assuredly
have spelt irretrievable disaster for Italy.
We were to have abundant proof of what his organizing genius,
combined with the patriotic ardour of the troops, had been able to
accomplish in the short space of three months.
After eight days spent in and around Brescia we motored to
Verona, the next stage as arranged on our programme. Our road
was across country, and therefore some considerable distance from
the Front, so beyond being a delightful trip through glorious scenery,
there was nothing very special about it; touring motorists having
done it hundreds of times.
 There was a noteworthy absence of any signs of military
movements in the rural districts, and the peasants were apparently
going about their usual peaceful avocations as unconcernedly as
though the war were in another country instead of being a
comparatively short distance away. In this respect, however, one felt
that the motor journeys we were scheduled to make from centre to
centre would prove exceedingly interesting, as they would afford us
an insight of the conditions prevailing in the rear of the Front, not an
unimportant factor in forming one’s impressions.
In Verona, had one been holiday making, many hours might have
been profitably spent in “doing” the place. As it was, my time was
fully occupied from the hour we arrived till the moment we left, and it
was, I am grieved to have to confess it, only by accident that I was
able to snatch the time to see anything of the artistic treasures of the
famous old city.
As a matter of fact, you scarcely had a moment to yourself if you
wanted to get any work done, as we only remained three days in
Verona.
The reason for thus curtailing our stay did not transpire. In this
sector of the Front the most important operations in the Trentino
were taking place, and the Austrians were straining every nerve in
order to stay the victorious progress of the Italians, but the lightning
rapidity of their advance had proved irresistible, and had forced a
retirement to their second line. To dislodge them from this was the
tack the Italians had before them when we were in Verona.
The axis of the Trentino is obviously Trent, and in due course of
time it will doubtless fall into the hands of the Italians, but the date of
that event is on the knees of the gods.
Meanwhile the focus of the operations in August 1915, was the
fortified position of Roveretto, which has been described as the
“strategic heart” of the Trentino, and which guards the Austrian
portion of the valley of the Adige. Enclosed within several rings of
entrenchments and an outer chain of modern forts of the most
formidable character, it presented a redoubtable barrier to the
advance of the Italians into the Trentino in this direction.
 But the lightning-like strategy of Cadorna upset all the plans of the
Austrian generals and, formidable though these defences were, they
were gradually being mastered.
Fort Pozzachio, which might have proved the most serious
obstacle of all, and have involved a long siege before it was
captured, turned out to be little more than a dummy fortress in so far
as defensive possibilities were concerned, and had to be abandoned
at the commencement of the war. This step being decided on by the
Austrians in consequence, as they stated in their communiqué, of its
not being in readiness to offer any prolonged resistance if besieged.
It transpired later that, although years had been spent working on
it and vast sums of money expended, it was so far from being
completed when war was declared that its heavy armament had not
yet arrived. It had been intended to make of it a stronghold which
would be practically impregnable.
Even now, it is a veritable modern Ehrenbreitstein, but with this
difference: it is not built on a rock but excavated out of the summit of
a lofty craig, which is quite inaccessible from the Italian side.
Although only about four miles from Roveretto, its surrender did not
help the Italians over much, in so far as the operations in that zone
were immediately concerned, but its loss must have been a severe
blow to Austrian pride.
It was said that it had been the intention of the Austrians to blow it
up rather than let the Italians reap the advantage of all the labour
that they had wasted on it, and in this connection there was a story
going round at the time that seemed circumstantial enough to be
worth recounting.
On the day of the occupation of the fortress an engineer officer,
strolling about examining the construction of the place, happened to
catch his foot in what he took to be a loose telephone wire, which
had apparently been accidentally pulled in from outside.
In disengaging it his attention was attracted by a peculiar object
attached to the wire, when to his surprise he found that it was an
electrical contrivance connected with a live fuse leading to a positive
mine of dynamite in one of the lower galleries.
A small splinter of rock had somehow got mixed up with the
detonator, and thus, as though by a miracle, the fortress and the
Italian troops in it had been saved from destruction. Almost needless
to add, the wire led from the nearest Austrian position.
We only made one excursion from Verona, but it was of extreme
interest in view of what was taking place at the time in this sector of
the Front. It was to Ala, a small Austrian town in the valley of the
Adige, which had been captured a few weeks previously.
There had been some sharp fighting in the streets, as many of the
houses bore witness to, but its chief interest to us lay in the fact that
it was in redeemed territory, and actually within the portals of
Austrian Trentino. Like, however, most of the liberated towns I had
visited, Ala was more Italian than Austrian.
 The whole region was positively alive with warlike energy
(see page 75)
To face page 100

The Mayor offered a lunch to the correspondents, and the usual

patriotic toasts followed. Afterwards we motored to the nearest
position, which was only a short distance from the town. Crossing
the river Adige on our way by an ingenious ferry-boat, constructed by
the engineers, the Austrians having destroyed the only bridge in the
vicinity. The “ferry” consisted of two big barges clamped together,
then boarded over and steered by an immense paddle projecting
from the after part. It was worked on the fixed-rope and sliding-pulley
principle, the swift current supplying the motive power.
We had all been looking forward to getting a good conception of
the operations, which just then were of vital importance, but we were
to be disappointed; we were only to be permitted a long range view.
On reaching a small hamlet on the bank of the river a few hundred
yards further on we were informed we could not proceed beyond this
point. We had, therefore, to be content with what we could see from
the roadway, which overlooked the river.
The coup d’oeil was magnificent, though not so impressive as
what we had seen previously. Before us stretched the broad valley of
the Adige; its swiftly running stream divided up here by numerous
gravel islets. On the opposite bank was the railway line to Trent and
the town of Seravalle; whilst facing it on our side was Chizzola.
Away in the distance bathed in the effulgence of the glorious
summer afternoon, were the Stivo and other high hills, on which are
the forts guarding Roveretto, hidden from our view by a bend in the
river.
Now and again one saw a tiny piff of white smoke, and heard the
muffled boom of artillery, but this was the only indication that any
operations were in progress. It was all so vast and so swamped as it
were by the immensity of the landscape that it was difficult to grasp
what was taking place.
A few hundred yards further down the road where we were
standing was the picturesque village of Pilcante, almost hidden in
luxuriant foliage.
In the immediate foreground and standing out in discordant detail
was a barbed-wire entanglement barricading the road, and guarded
by a detachment of infantry; whilst immediately below the parapet
which skirted the pathway, a cottage and a small garden on a spot of
ground jutting into the river had been transformed into a sort of
miniature “position” with an armoured trench, disguised by small
trees stuck in the walls.
 It occurred to me that all this would make an interesting sketch; as
a matter of fact, it was the only subject that had appealed to me that
day, so I got out my book, and had just finished it when I felt a touch
on my shoulder and someone whispered in my ear:
“Be careful, sketching is not allowed here.” I looked round—it was
one of the officers accompanying us.
“Not allowed?” I queried; “surely there must be some mistake.”
“Not at all,” he replied; “special instructions were issued by the
General that no sketches or photographs were to be made here.”
As this was the first time I had heard of any restrictions since we
had started on the tour, my surprise may be imagined, and the more
especially as nothing apparently could have been more innocent
than the subject I had chosen.
“Well, I’m sorry, but what you tell me comes too late as I have
already made a sketch,” said I, showing it to him. “What shall I do?”
The officer, a very good fellow, laughed and shrugged his
shoulders: “Put your book back in your pocket and don’t let anyone
see it; there are several staff officers about.”
The finish of the incident was equally curious. I worked up a
double page drawing from the sketch in question, and, of course,
submitted it to the censors. It aroused a good deal of comment, but it
was eventually “passed” on condition that I altered the title and took
out all the names of the towns, mountains, etc.; only the vaguest
suggestion as to where I had made it being permitted.
In spite of the fact that the Austrians had the geographical
advantage of position almost everywhere, and that their frontier was
comparatively so close to many important Italian cities, the intrepid
advance of the Italian troops upset all the calculations of the Austrian
generals, and, instead of advancing into Italian territory, they found
themselves forced to act on the defensive some distance to the rear
of their first line positions, and well inside their own frontier. But it
was no easy task for the Italians, and tested their valour and
endurance to the utmost.
 The fighting in the ravines and on the sides of the mountains was
of the most desperate character, for in this warfare at close quarters
it is man to man, and individual courage tells more than it does down
on the plains.
Here, in the fastnesses of nature, every clump of trees or isolated
rocks are potential ambuscades. So it requires the utmost caution,
combined with almost reckless daring, to advance at any time.
The Austrians, though well provided with heavy artillery, were quite
unable to hold on to their positions. It was brute force pitted against
skill and enthusiastic courage, and brute force was worsted as it
generally is under such conditions.
Our two next “stages,” Vicenza and Belluno, brought us into the
very heart of the fighting on the line of the Italian advance in the
Eastern Trentino towards Bolzano and the region round Monte
Cristallo.
We halted a couple of days at Vicenza to enable us to visit the
positions of Fiera di Primero. The Italian lines here were some
distance inside Austrian territory, so we had a good opportunity of
judging for ourselves the difficulties that had to be overcome to have
advanced so far, as well as the preparations that had been made by
the Austrians for their proposed invasion of Italy.
Cunningly concealed trenches, barbed-wire entanglements and
gun emplacements commanded every approach, whilst protecting
the advance of troops. It seemed incredible that such well planned
works should have been abandoned.
But here as elsewhere the lightning strategy of Cadorna left the
Austrian commanders no option. Monte Marmolada, 11,000 ft. high,
and other mountains on which the Austrians had placed heavy
artillery, were captured by degrees. The strategic value of these
positions was incontestable.
Unless one has seen the Dolomites it is impossible to form any
conception of what these successes mean or the terrible difficulties
that had to be surmounted to gain them.
 Neither Dante nor Doré in their wildest and most fantastic
compositions ever conceived anything more awe-inspiring than
warfare amidst these towering peaks.
At all times they exercise a kind of weird fascination which is
positively uncanny; add the thunder of modern artillery and the effect
is supernatural. You try hard to realize what it means fighting
amongst these jagged pinnacles and on the edges of the awful
precipices.
Death, however, has little terror for the men, judging from the look
on the faces of the mortally wounded one saw from time to time
brought down from the trenches.
A little incident related to me by Calza Bedolo brings home the
spirit of Italy’s soldiers.
He had shortly before come upon a stretcher-party carrying down
from the mountains a very dangerously wounded man. Upon enquiry
as to how the wound had been caused he was informed that it was a
case of attempted suicide.
What had led up to this desperate act? It appeared that for some
trivial breach of discipline the man had been deprived of the privilege
of a place in the front trenches and sent to a position in the rear!
The most important of all the strategic points at that time was the
Col di Lana, which dominates the Falzarego and Livinallongo
passes, close to Cortina d’Ampezzo. Here the Austrians were putting
up a defence which was taxing the strength and resources of the
Italians, to their utmost, but it was gradually being overcome.
Every mountain which commanded the position was being
mounted with guns of the heaviest calibre, and big events were said
to be looming in the near future.
As a matter of fact, it was only six months later that the Italians
succeeded in capturing the Col di Lana, so strongly were the
Austrians entrenched on it. A young engineer conceived the idea of
mining it, and so successful was he that the entire summit of the
mountain, with the Austrian positions, was literally blown away.
 One of the most interesting of the excursions the English group of
correspondents made was to the top of a mountain facing it. As it
would have been a very trying climb for amateur mountaineers like
ourselves, mules were considerately supplied by the General of the
division. So we accomplished the ascent in easy fashion, for it was
certain that very few of us would have tackled it on foot.
The sturdy Alpini who accompanied us treated the excursion as a
good sort of joke apparently, and plodded steadily alongside us in
the test of spirits, laughing now and again at our vain efforts to keep
our steeds from walking on the extreme edge of the precipices.
This ride gave us a splendid opportunity of seeing how the Italians
have surmounted the difficulty of getting heavy artillery to the very
summits of mountains, where no human foot had trodden before the
war broke out. Rough and terribly steep in places though the road
was, still it was a real roadway and not a mere track as one might
have expected to find considering how rapidly it had been made.
Men were still at work consolidating it at the turns on scientific
principles, and in a few weeks, with the continual traffic passing up
and down it, it would present all the appearance of an old
established road.
It is the method of getting the guns and supplies up these great
heights in the first instance that “starts” the road as it were. Nothing
could be simpler or more efficacious.
It consists in actually cutting the track for the guns just in advance
of them as they are gradually pushed and hauled forward. The
position and angle of the track being settled before starting by the
engineers.
This, of course, takes time at first, especially when the acclivity is
very steep, but it has the advantage of breaking the way for
whatever follows. The rough track is then gradually improved upon
by the succeeding gun teams, and so a well constructed zig-zag
military roadway gradually comes into being.
We left the mules a short distance from the summit and had to
climb the rest of the way. Instead of an artillery position as we
expected to find, it was an observation post, with a telephone cabin
built in a gap in the rocks, and a hut for half a dozen soldiers on duty.
The little station was quite hidden from the Austrians, although
only a couple of thousand yards distant. It was a most important
spot, as from here the fire of all the batteries round about was
controlled.
We were received by the Colonel commanding this sector of the
artillery, a grizzled warrior, wearing a knitted woollen sleeping cap
pulled well down over his ears, which gave him a somewhat quaint
and unmilitary appearance.
The “observation post” was merely a small hole through the rocks,
and so awkward to get at that only two people could look through it
at the same time. Immediately facing you across a shallow valley
was a barren hill of no great elevation (of course it must be
remembered we were here several thousand feet up). There was no
sign of life or vegetation, and it looked so singularly bare and
uninteresting that unless you had been told to look at it your attention
would never have been attracted to it.
Yet this was the much talked of Col di Lana. Seen, however,
through field glasses its aspect altered considerably, and you could
not fail to notice what appeared to be row upon row of battered stone
walls, and also that the ridge was very much broken up, shewing
patches everywhere of red sand.
The “stone walls,” the Colonel told us, were what remained of the
Austrian trenches and the patches of sand were caused by the
incessant bombardment by the Italians. At that moment there was
not the slightest sign of military activity anywhere, no sound of a gun
disturbed the still air.
It seemed incredible that we were gazing on the most redoubtable
position on the whole Front, and one that for weeks had barred the
Italian advance in this direction.
Someone remarked that it did not look so very formidable after all,
and asked the Colonel if it would really mean a very big effort to
capture it.
 “To take that innocent looking summit now,” he replied gravely,
“would necessitate attacking it with a couple of hundred thousand
men and being prepared to lose half of them. We shall get it by other
means, but it will take some time; meanwhile every yard of it is
covered by my batteries.”
We continued to gaze on the silent landscape with increasing
interest, when suddenly, as though an idea had occurred to him, the
Colonel said that if we did not mind waiting twenty minutes or so he
would show us what his gunners could do. Of course we asked for
nothing better. So he went up to the telephone cabin and was there a
little while; he then came back and told us to follow him.
He led the way down a ravine enclosed by lofty cliffs close by. At
the foot of it were large boulders, some with sandbags spread on
them. This was his sharpshooter’s lair, he informed us, but for the
moment they were not there.
We were then told to hide ourselves as much as possible behind
the rocks and watch what was going to happen on the Col di Lana,
which was in full view from here.
“We are right under fire here, but you are fairly safe if you keep
well under cover,” he added, as a sort of final recommendation when
he saw us all placed.
The stillness of death reigned for the next ten minutes perhaps.
We kept our eyes glued on the fateful hill opposite, not exactly
knowing what was going to happen, when all of a sudden there was
the crash of a big gun and we heard the shriek of a shell as it passed
overhead; then, with scarcely an interval this was followed up by
such a succession of firing that it sounded like a thunderstorm let
loose.
The effect on the Col di Lana was startling: it was as though a
series of volcanoes had started activity, all along the summit and just
below it fantastic columns of smoke and dust rose high into the air.
As the Colonel had truly said, every yard of the hill was under the fire
of his batteries.
 It was an object lesson in precision of aim, and one almost felt
sorry for the men who were thus, without the slightest warning,
deluged with high explosives. Meanwhile the Austrian batteries did
not fire a shot in reply.
The bombardment lasted exactly ten minutes, and ceased as
abruptly as it had started.
“Wonderful,” we all exclaimed when we were reassembled at the
station. The Colonel looked delighted with the way his instructions
had been carried out.
At that moment we heard the telephone bell ringing violently; he
excused himself and hurried to the box, and was there some
minutes. When he returned the look of elation on his face had
disappeared.
“That was the General ringing up,” he explained. “He heard the
firing and wanted to know what had happened suddenly. He is in an
awful rage at my giving you this entertainment.”
Of course we were all very sorry that he should have got into
trouble on our account, but he seemed to make light of it, and
evidently had no fear of unpleasant consequences. We then left the
place and retraced our footsteps.
There was no mule-riding going down the mountain unless you
wanted to break your neck. It was far too steep, therefore we had to
walk the whole way, a very long and tiring job.
In the valley below was the village of Caprile, where we had
arranged to meet our cars. A mountain stream ran past the village,
and there was a broad, open space of ground facing the houses, in
which was a large encampment with long sheds and hundreds of
horses and mules picketted.
As we were walking across to the inn, where we were going to
lunch, we heard the dull boom of a gun in the distance, and in a few
seconds the approaching wail of a projectile, followed by the report
of the explosion a short distance away, and we saw the shell had
burst on the hillside a few feet from the Red Cross Hospital.