East Oregonian : E.O. (Pendleton, OR) 1888-current, 1915-08-07
BY WILLIAM c. SHEPHERD


1thlttu FfeSS correspondent
UDINE, July S.-tBy MALL
Cdine is the Italian front. That is
it is as near the Italian front as you
can get And you're not supposed
to he here
You've jouneyed from Paris to
Rome. then from Rome TO Venice
and from Venice to this little Italian
town and, when you get here YOU find
you're not welcomed,
Other nations got excited when
their part of the great war started
but ltaly's frenzy outdid them all.
The censorship in Italy was the strict.
est; the tie up of the railroads the
completest; the silence of the teIe-
graph and telephone the deepest. the
secrecy the greatest and the abhor-
renee of correspondents the most
thorough.
Its for this latter reason that a
soldier meets YOU at the train. In
some way he has heard that YOU are
coming. Little does it matter to him
that You have travelled thousands OF
miles, that you have spent hundreds
Of dollars and scores of hot. dusty
hours to get to this place. His duty
is to take you to a certain hotel where
unwelcome persons can be visited by
the military police and robbed.
When YOU get to the hotel you
take the room the hotel man gives
you. In way. you're a guest; in an
other way you're a prisoner. Little
difference does it make that you're
an American and that the hotel
mans brother is a barber in San
Francisco and that he's doing well
there The hotel man is under mili-
tary rule. too; he must give YOU one
of the rooms that have been set off
by the military authorities for unde-
sirables.
After you get your baggage into
your room you decide to get out and
face the music with the police: it's
better than to have them come to
you. So, in a rattly cab, YOU sart off
to the police sation. 1t is sunday ev-
ening, at seven; the streets are filled
with soldiers-hundred and thou
sands of them, They go about in
groups. they laugh, but mostly. they
sing. You hear snatches from all the
operas
Everybody sings tenor; there are
scores of Carusos about. The SOL
diers walk through the streets with
their arms about each other; italian
men are great for arm holding and
hugging.
The soldiers are huge; it is pick
ed regiment; six footers are only av-
erage. OF all the gatherings I have
seen on both sides in the great war
this gathering at Udine was made up
of the biggest men I have seen in
one group. Among these italian SOL
diers. you are in a boydom. Your
carriafe. going through a narrow
street. passes a moving picture the
ater which is just emptying itself OF
soldiers: they're shouting and laugh
ing and gesticulating; you can see
hundreds of pairs Of hands waving.
Your carriage comes to halt; the
horse is pulling in vain; twenty SOL
diers have caught the spokes of the
hind wheels: the rear end of the cab
kicks up; the soldiers have lifted 1t
into the air: the horse and the cab
and YOU suddenly shoot forward;
thirty giant Italian soldiers are push
ing the rig from behind like wheel
barrow. Then someone yells: "oh,
you American
American, Americanl Ameri-
cant" runs through the crowd. Then
someone yells, Long live the Ameri-
cans In a moment everybody yells
it. "Three cheers for New York" ="
yells another, in good New York Eng
lish Long live New York" yells
the army.
The rear wheels Of your carriage
come down with a thud. As you
drive away you stand up and bow and
everybody cheers again for America
You find the police closed for the
night
You've come all this way to Udine
with the curtains Of your train win
dows closed tight; when you go to
the hotel you find the wooden shu-
ters closed. You cannot open them;
it's against the military rule. You
can't omen them even after youtva nut