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Updated: June 29, 2025
An' doctor, 'e sat oop wi' 't tree nights roonin', 'e did. 'E didn' so mooch as taak 's cleathes off. Nad Alderson, 'e said, 'e'd navver seen anything like what doctor 'e doon for t' lil' thing." Mrs. Gale's face reddened and she sniffed. "'E's saaved Nad's baaby for 'm, right enoof, Dr. Rawcliffe 'as. But 'e's down wi't hissel, t' poastman says." It was at Gwenda that she gazed.
For over an hour now I had been expecting, minute by minute, to see the enemy Infantry come swarming along the Nad Logem in the dusk, cutting off our retreat, for I knew we had nothing but rear-guards left up there. But they did not come! Only the Major and I and about forty men were left now, and we had been told that there would be no more transport.
"'Tis Nad, wi' t' dawg, drivin' t' sheep." "Oh, Jim, he'll see us." "Nat he!" But he drew her behind the shelter of the barn. "He'll come down the fields. He'll be sure to see us." "Ef he doos, caann't I walk in my awn fealds wi' my awn sweetheart?" "I don't want to be seen," she moaned. "Wall ?" he pushed open the door of the barn. "Wae'll creep in here than, tall he's paassed."
Gwenda looked up from her book. "No," she said. "He's away, isn't he?" "Away? 'El'll nat get away fer long enoof. 'E's too ill." "Ill?" Alice sent the word out on a terrified breath. Nobody took any notice of her. "T' poastman tell mae," said Mrs. Gale. "From what 'e's 'eerd, 'twas all along o' Nad Alderson's lil baaby up to Morfe. It was took wi' the diptheery a while back.
During the next few days the advance was pushed across the Doberdo plateau, south of Gorizia, and beyond the Vallone on to the western end of the forbidding and formidable Carso. By the 15th the Italian line ran from Tivoli, north-east of Gorizia, down the river Vertoibizza, across the Vippacco and along the Carso east of Nad Logem, Opacchiasella, and Villanova.
But a little later a Battalion came along the road the other way, going up to be sacrificed on Nad Logem. They halted to rest by the roadside, full of gaiety and courage. They cheered our men on No. 2 gun, who were pumping out shells as fast as they could. "Bravi inglesi!" cried the Italians, and some of our men replied, "Good luck, Johnny!" Unknown Italians were always "Johnny."
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