... Well,
it did reappear, for France never gives up the fight. The French motto
here, as everywhere else, was "to the bitter end." On the
twenty-fourth of January the _Petrel_ and the _Marie-Rose_ started on
the final trip. Will they arrive in time? Probably not. In the
mountains that surround San Giovanni rifle shots and the rattle of
mitrailleuses were heard; the road to Alessio was deserted, the beach
seemed deserted, Medua harbor was covered with wreckage of all sorts,
rendering navigation impossible. However, the tiny craft entered the
harbor and approached the shore. Finally they saw some Serbs there.
The news was as disturbing as possible. The Austrians were only a few
kilometers off. There was fighting on the outskirts of the town. The
last able-bodied Serbs struggled manfully to hold off the Austrian
advance guard, which pressed them hard. Not a minute was to be lost if
a last salvage was to be made.
After a brief consultation, the two young commanders decided to take
off everyone in their old boats, aided by a huge lighter which they
took in tow. A grave responsibility if the weather did not hold; but
the man who risks nothing will gain nothing.
They worked with feverish haste. The hope of not being abandoned gave
wings to the weak.
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