Private Memoranda of S.D. Hector von Schönhof - January 6, 1905 - Oberlech, Vorarlberg
Another night of fresh snow and another day of blue skies. I was sorely tempted to abscond from Twelfth Night Mass and hike the high road to Zürs. The youngest Starsinger arrived at my door only minutes after dawn to scrawl his chalk blessing over the lintel, watched over by a kind but grizzled priest, broad as these mountains are tall.
With the wireless, the front comes even to these remote redoubts. Arlberg has few sons, but all have been given willingly to the K.u.k. Armee. None have joined the new ships being laid down in Trieste. They are a mountain people, perfect for small secretive missions in the Alps, Carpathians, or hilly Balkans.
My redoubt hums through the night with communications from my counterparts along the Tyrolian border, and even the cold clean air cannot ease my restless sleep. I think of walking with Moira along the Ringstrasse before the war and of Rainier out on the Russian steppes, drunk on youth, glory, and tokai. He should have stayed in Vienna. Taken that posting at the Spanish Riding School. An honorable post for the scion of an old if unremarkable family. In more peaceful times he might have succeeded to my posting. Moira forgive my weakness...
Another night of fresh snow and another day of blue skies. I was sorely tempted to abscond from Twelfth Night Mass and hike the high road to Zürs. The youngest Starsinger arrived at my door only minutes after dawn to scrawl his chalk blessing over the lintel, watched over by a kind but grizzled priest, broad as these mountains are tall.
With the wireless, the front comes even to these remote redoubts. Arlberg has few sons, but all have been given willingly to the K.u.k. Armee. None have joined the new ships being laid down in Trieste. They are a mountain people, perfect for small secretive missions in the Alps, Carpathians, or hilly Balkans.
My redoubt hums through the night with communications from my counterparts along the Tyrolian border, and even the cold clean air cannot ease my restless sleep. I think of walking with Moira along the Ringstrasse before the war and of Rainier out on the Russian steppes, drunk on youth, glory, and tokai. He should have stayed in Vienna. Taken that posting at the Spanish Riding School. An honorable post for the scion of an old if unremarkable family. In more peaceful times he might have succeeded to my posting. Moira forgive my weakness...
