[The trenches carved into the mountain, winding near the top.]

Emilio Lussu’s Memoir: A Soldier on the Southern Front: The Classic Italian Memoir of World War I

Emilio Lussu was a soldier on the Alpine Front during World War One. In his memoir, Lussu recounts the violence of war, war’s dehumanizing nature, and the effects of war on the soldier. For example, Lussu describes an assault the soldiers took against Austrian soldiers in which two soldiers died at their own hands before the assault even started out of what Lussu wonders is “cowardice, bravery, or madness” (Lussu, 120). The striking depictions of death and violence throughout Lussu’s memoir are indicative of the brutal nature of war on the psyche and the body. In another instance, Lussu describes the mental harm war placed on him personally when he no longer saw the opposing side as people, but rather as faceless enemies (Lussu, 161). Lussu became aware that the person in front of him was a young man with a life potentially not dissimilar to his own, coming to the conclusion that he could not kill the young man in “good conscience” (Lussu, 163). The battles on Mt. Fior in Asiago were deadly and dehumanizing, filled with men who were losing autonomy on the Italian side in particular. Emilio Lussu’s Memoir, A Soldier on the Southern Front: The Classic Italian Memoir of World War I, depicts, therefore, a place which is scarred by war’s effect on the landscape and the soldiers. 

Mt. Fior Nearly 100 Years Later

The effects of war are still entirely present on Mt. Fior nearly 100 years after the battles Lussu describes took place. The path is riddled with bullets, and more bullets are brought down to the path each year as the snow melts and carries new debris down the mountain. The sides of the mountain hold holes from the cannon fire during the battles. The trenches are by far the most clearly distinguished reminder from the war, weaving their way across the mountain. Around 5’3” deep, and exceedingly narrow, the trenches are becoming overgrown with plants and trees as the environment reclaims them, leaving only a scar in the mountainside. The effects of war on the mountainside remain visible after over 100 years, and will continue to remain visible for decades more. Even if the invisible memory of the war is dying out or the memory of the war is changed from generation to generation, the physical memory remains. What is most striking are the propaganda monuments and the large, overgrown mass grave which was dug up decades ago to create another propaganda monument. The mass grave continues to emanate a sense of grief in the region through the implications of the grand scale of death, and the idea of the dead being unable to rest peacefully due to the movement of the soldiers to a different location. 

[Cannon holes in the side of the mountain seen between the two lines of trees.]

The War Through A Different Lense

Fascist propaganda surrounding the war began soon after the war ended, though, as the local guide explained, much of the Fascist ideology contributing to the propaganda came from the trenches themselves in the form of soldier ideology. Signage signaling the heroic stand the Italian soldiers took against the “barbarous Austrian” soldiers are in the place of the old graves of commanders and are seen on the top of the mountains. The largest propaganda structure in Asiago is observable outside of the mountains where many battles were fought, in what is described as a “military shrine” where Italians who died on the Alpine Front are buried (or reburied). One hitch: likely not all who are encased in the shrine are Italian soldiers, thus undermining the ideals of the shrine to honor only the Italian soldiers. Still, the Fascist ideas surrounding the war are clearly observable on the mountain and in the surrounding region to demonstrate the bravery of the fighting forces.

[A Fascist memorial that stands at the site of the graves of commanders. The bodies are no longer there.]

I See London, I See France… I See Venice?

Upon reaching the summit of the mountain, Austrian forces celebrated as they looked to the east at Venice. Not only toward, but also at Venice. There is an optical phenomenon which makes the Dolomites and Venice appear next to one another despite the, roughly, 70 mile distance between them. On the day the Austrian forces reached the summit, Venice looked close enough to touch, signaling a great triumph and potential end to the war. After fighting confined in small trenches, the sight of open land and the closeness of a major city was exhilarating for Austrian forces. It signified hope and victory. 

Even today, on a clear day Venice can be seen from the hill above the trenches on the old Austrian-Italian border. 

[On a clear day, Venice can be seen from the top of the mountain. Fog and clouds obstruct the view on this day, though.]

Emilio Lussu’s memoir describes a region of extreme violence and loss of humanity. Today, the region offers hiking and learning opportunities to people from around the country and the world. Still, the scars of war are present on the mountainside even over 100 years later, and the sense of grief and uncertainty are lingering. The region teaches of the effects of war on humans and the landscape, both in the short-term and in the long-term. 

[The view of the surrounding mountains and valleys from a lookout point within the trenches.]