na they were lectured and cautioned, particularly against
having anything to say about the Protestant religion in a Catholic
country, or making themselves conspicuous by attending Protestant
churches and gatherings. Then they were indiscriminately scattered from
the Austrian boundary to Syracuse.

John Calhoun was given a high-powered car and stationed at Cento, a
place within convenient distance of Florence, Venice, Verona, Brescia
and Milan. He always left Cento on Saturday a. m. and returned Monday
p. m. He saw these and more distant cities. The cafes on the shores of
lakes Garda, Iseo, Como and Maggiore knew the resonant sound of his
Klaxon horn.

But his weekly reports of work done, sent into Bologna, showed
magnificent accomplishments. There were but seven thousand soldiers in
his district, and only four huts or places of entertainment for the
soldiers. At night some thirty or forty soldiers gathered in each place,
their wants attended to by a sergeant of the Italian army, who called at
his rooms when supplies were needed; yet this report recited that an
average of three thousand visited the four places each night of the
week, making a weekly attendance of more than twenty thousand. He made
out his weekly report Friday night, with directions to his orderly to
mail it to Bologna on Monday morning. The report came in promptly,
though John Calhoun might be in Venice or Verona.

How he did enjoy these week-end outings. It was a break in the monotony
of sitting quietly at ease in quarters furnished by the Italian
Government, when the only recreation was lunch and dinner at the
officers' mess, where he drank his share of the red and white wines and
learned to eat macaroni seasoned with grated cheese and red tomato
sauce, wrapping it around his fork and picking it up in great
mouthfuls.

He was wonderfully kind to Colonel Rocca, the commanding officer,
keeping him supplied with cigarettes and tobacco from the supply
furnished for distribution among the privates. When the colonel
expressed a desire to accompany him on one of his week-end outings or
even to be carried to some neighboring city (the army only allowing a
horse and cart for his personal service), the Y Fiat was always at his
service. This courtesy resulted in John Calhoun being awarded the Croce
di Guerra, for distinguished service at the front, though Cento was
seventy-five miles from the front line and he never so much as heard the
roar of a distant gun