Military real life story of fantasy
Premise
The Savoia Marchetti SM 79 was called by the Allies "The cursed Gobbo" because it was curved and because its pilots were extremely determined.
This is the only truth, because every fact or reference to things or people of this story is purely coincidental.
The impression that everything is real and truthful is due to the fact that the story unfolds a situation that we all wanted to solve in various ways. Even so.
1.
The Minister of Defense had summoned him for Monday of Holy Week.
The request was rather strange. He, Francesco Fuchs, veteran hero of World War II, had always been in contact with the Ministry of Defense. They invited him every birthday, used it for another time and told about anecdotes related to his campaign in Russia when he piloted the Cursed Humpback.
It was the most feared triad of the allies. Built by Savoia Marchetti in the 1934 as a passenger plane, it was named "SM79 Sparviero", but soon the war version was renamed "Shameful damn" by enemies who feared him for his maneuvering skills and for the particular shape of the cabin which gave him the hustle and bustle of a curious airplane bent over the prey.
The Germans, alongside whom Fuchs had fought in Russia, envied that aircraft that was comparable to their Junkers Ju 52 / 3m. An aircraft certainly less important, that the Italians called "the Ju-Tante", in Italian the Adjutant and in German the Aunt Ju. In short, the feminine version of the SM.79.
However, Fuchs went to Rome, despite his 100 years playing. He still had the patent of a professional pilot but no physician if he felt he would give him nothing on the fly even though he had iron health.
"What if he felt bad in flight?" Asked the doctors.
"Why," he answered, "can not young people feel bad?"
"Of course, but if you feel bad, you give me the idiot."
"Take your risk! He's a medical officer! "
But there was nothing to do, he was forced to fly with a second pilot alongside. A flight attendant, a kind of A-Ju-many ...
That's why he agreed to go back to the Ministry. Maybe they gave him the certificate to let him do a last flight. Well, last is a big word ... One of the last, here it is.
Both of her children were already retired. But one lived in his town, Trento, who accompanied him to the train and the other, resident in Rome, who was going to take him to the station and carry him where he wanted. At the Ministry of Defense, where else is it.
When he arrived at N. 11 of Via XX Settembre, he escaped from his son's car and came to the guard. Two minutes later an Air Force officer had taken him to take him to the upper floors.
"Commander, how are you doing?"
"Very good. And you know that. "
"Commander, it was a courtesy question ... come on, they're waiting for you."
Who was waiting for him, he had no idea.
But this time she was amazed. The minister personally met him, while two other bourgeois characters and one in the uniform of the airline were waiting smiling.
"Commander Fuchs, I'm really happy to have accepted the invitation," said the minister. - Come on, come in. '
Fuchs went to sit in a lounge chair, with a certain disquiet. He remained silent.
"So, my co-workers say that she would like to fly alone," the minister said as he sat. "At least one last flight, right?"
The other three smiled, nodding. For Fuchs there was a smell of burning. He was not born yesterday. Indeed, not even the day before yesterday, almost a century before.
"What's going to ask me, Minister?"
The politician was banned for a moment, but he was not born yesterday, either.
"I? No. I'm not a technician, just a simple politician. But friends who are with me have to make a proposal. "
Fuchs knew it was an ocean trap, but he felt he would take it easy.
The minister stood up.
"I have to leave it. I am honored to have been able to meet you in person. The country can boast of having people like her. "
They shook hands and Fuchs was taken to a smaller, or more private, room.
"I see the trap and I see the bait," said Fuchs, smiling. - What I do not see is the main thing, the goal. What do you want exactly from an old World War II pilot? "
"You piloted the SM79 Sparrow, did not you?" Asked one of the two bourgeois men.
"Yup. - Smiled Fuchs. - The cursed hunchback. "
"Have you ever driven him alone?"
"Twenty times when my second was injured."
"Did you ever miss the plane?"
"Never. I'm back in flames, gasped, no gasoline ... But I've always brought it home. "
"Yeah," the officer continued. "They told me that the cappattuglia was guided by her when the clouds were popping."
Fuchs laughed. "Yes, they said I was lucky. Or I had a nose. I found the column of German tanks to be supplied. We landed, downloaded the material and resumed. "
The Air Force pilot was uncertain of admiration and envy.
"We have a request to do so." The third man spoke.
"I understood," Fuchs smiled. - Shoot it.
«We found another specimen of SM79 Sparviero. - Said the plain-clothes man who had remained silent until then. - In excellent condition. »
Fuchs was listening. He did not want to help them.
"The structure is perfect. The engines are a wonder, an orchestra. The three 126 RC 34 radial engines seem to have just come out of Alfa Romeo. "
"An orchestra? Fuchs repeated. It was the term they used to say that the plane was in perfect condition. He felt he had swallowed the bait. "Gentlemen, what do you want from me?"
"We ask you to see it, try it and, if it seems able to work, to drive it in person until it is brought to Italy."
The silence that followed was embarrassing. They realized they had made the longest thought of the arm.
"Ehm ... you've already brought one in Italy from Lebanon, is not it?" He looked at the officer.
"No," answered Fuchs resolutely. - I found it, I had it disassembled and transported to Italy for the Caproni Museum in Trento. He was not able to fly. "
"Yes, he can fly ..."
Fuchs stood up. It was a minute, as it used to be a time for pilots, and how it had accentuated its age. But it was the same authoritative enough to infuriate subjection.
"Gentlemen, do not offend my intelligence. Tell me all at once, otherwise I'll leave. "
2.
On Friday Good Friday, Francesco Fuchs boarded the first flight of Alitalia AZ 720 flight to Athens. There he had changed airplanes, embarking on a line 777 that took him to Abu Dhabi, and then finally arrived in Bombay.
Total, 11 flight hours and 5 waiting at the airport. They would be a Christian, but Fuchs was excited. On mission. Like old times. It had been 65 years since last time ...
At Chattrapathi Shivaji Airport in Mumbay there was a car from the Italian Embassy in New Dehli in India, with both livery drivers.
"Commander, did you make a good trip? He asked kindly. "They are waiting for him at the Mumbay Consulate."
He came for lunch. The Ambassador met him in person, the consul and his closest associates. Among them was Massimo Alfierini, one of the two bourgeois men met at the Ministry of Defense. Other bourgeois men had been accompanied by the embassy. Too many people for his tastes.
But the meal was friendly and full of decidedly pleasant dishes. But that Fuchs barely tasted. He asked instead to go to bed in the afternoon, because the next day would be a difficult day.
Five hours in the time zone had suggested that he only make a hearty breakfast, as if he had been at his house. Then he got up for supper time, which was lunch for him. So he did what corresponded to his afternoon nap.
In the morning 3 woke up and, together with the other men of the match, began preparations.
At 4 a snack, the right one, as if it were dinner. Luggage and cards at the 5. At 6 it was at Shahrukh's private airport.
The track, a little longer than 500 meters, was an airport in all respects. A corrugated metal shed, or perhaps eternity as someone suspected, was the only building.
When Fuchs came in there was a strange coming and going of people, definitely unusual for that time and in a place like that.
The commander was escorted to a small room, where some maps were deployed for the last time. Then came the motorist, the man of Rome, Alfierini.
"Everything's ready, commander. - He told him. - When he wants ... »
"Then we do not waste time," he said rolling the maps, "the road is long."
"Commander, the Mombay Police must ask for something." - An embassy clerk spoke.
Fuchs and his motorist came out.
"I'm Commander Fuchs."
"Commander, you have been informed that you want to do a test flight with the old aircraft that is out here."
"Exact."
"Um, commander, are you sure what you're doing?"
"Does my age frighten you? Fuchs asked him confidently. "I'm the only one who can make this scrap fly."
"Um, yes sir. No, excuse me. But, she knows ... There is an inhabited center. Is not it better if he was accompanied by a pilot ... younger? "
Fuchs stopped back.
"Here, this is my patent, renewed a dozen days ago, with a medical certificate."
They had miraculously given it to him. It was a sine qua non condition.
"Anyway, there is with me Mr. Alfierini. He pointed. "He is my second."
It was a dance. Alfierini was only a mechanic expert and an excellent engine restorer of the era.
"Do you want to do a tour with me on the city? Fuchs asked the two policemen, defying the fate. "I'm just a test drive to see if it works, if it's worth buying the plane."
"No, no, for charity. But are you sure this ... deal ... fly? "
"This is a SM 79, Sparrowhawk, called the Hurted Gobbo. - He answered with a certain pride. - It is a sample of the 1939, version launches torpedoes. He's 22 years younger than me. "
"Do you also wear torpedoes?" - He roughly laughed the fattest of the two policemen.
"No, but I need two more passengers to balance the weight of the standard aircraft crew. »
He gestured to two Italians who were watching the scene.
"Come on guys, get on board that's off," he shouted. - Ambassador, do you also go? »
"I? Um, no ... »
The two policemen laughed.
"Then go away."
The ambassador roared, climbed into the limousine, and returned to the embassy. The two improvised passengers instead got on board.
Fuchs greeted the policemen and got on board, closing the door behind him.
After about ten minutes the first engine went on, then followed the second and finally the central one.
They were magnificent. The motorist was right. It was an orchestra of Alfa Romeo.
"Gentlemen, we're leaving for Tipperary!" Said Fuchs. It was an old superstitious ritual that
used when they left for a long mission: they sang the enemy song: "It's a long way to Tipperary" ...
The two guests had sat in the cockpit, the motorist had put alongside the pilot.
Fuchs looked at all the equipment on board, tried the flaps, moved the cloche, the whistles were light. It seemed perfect.
"Hey y?"
"Allons!"
3.
With the last fantastic roar, the engines went a long way and after a while the driver left the brakes.
The guide signaled a wind to the port side rail, but the track was only one. No problem.
He left and all gas and after only a couple of hundred meters the plane lifted off the ground and Fuchs took him against the portmouth wind. He lifted like a twig.
"No radio, I recommend! The motorist reminded him. - Rat?
"Never used the radio. Route 270, 2-7-0. West. Indian Ocean."
"At this speed we'll be out of territorial waters in an hour."
"In 35 minutes," said the pilot. - But we'll continue for an hour. I do not trust Indians in the measurement of territorial waters ... "
Fuchs was reborn. Age had slowed him down a bit. He ate little, slept little, spoke softly, moved gently. But now that he was in charge of his old device, the old man had returned. The adrenaline was making him a biological support. He knew he could not last long with that pressure, but his moment was back.
Half an hour later it was on the Indian Ocean. He did not make the aerosiliver, but the bomber. For an Italian military pilot in war, however, the sea was the hunting reserve. And he knew some tricks.
"Commander, do not we fly too low?" Asked the motorist.
Fuchs smiled.
"The engines have to work a little more than just a thousand feet," he admitted. "But from the top it's harder to see S.M.79."
"How do you say that?"
"Did not he look at the top livery of the livery? It is painted with a beautiful blue light that blends in with the sea. It's to make it invisible to RAF hunting. "
"Of RAF? Ah, sorry, I forgot ... "
"Already. The last time I drove one of these, I crossed a spitfire ... "
"And did you miss it?"
"I? Ha ha! No, we did not shoot him. It was he who wanted to break us down. "
"And did not you hit her?"
"He did not shoot us. He greeted us by slamming the wings as it was between friends, or between enemies when no more ammunition ... "
The radio grabbed something.
"May I answer, Commander?" Asked the motorist.
"They have not called us yet. And the onboard radio does not work. "
"I know, but how should I behave?"
"They use the radio they gave her, but only in a quarter of an hour. For now, just listen to her. "
"Horrid Gobbo, here Notredame. Can you answer?"
"It's 10 minutes." Fuchs ordered.
The youngest of the two passengers entered the cabin.
"Commander, we've seen high-altitude hunting planes. - He said. They're looking for us. "
"What were the rocks they had with us?"
«3 hours ...»
"They move blindly ..."
At that moment, however, a jet overtook them. Cabling fast to avoid impact with the ocean.
"No, they identified us."
"What are we doing, Commander? We do not have any weapons on board ... "
"Get ready to finish at sea. "Commander Fuchs replied. - If I need to be even without engines. "
"It's not comforting ..." said the motorist.
"Instead of complaining, can you give me the position of our plane?"
The second looked at the paper.
"Hey, we're out of the Indian territorial waters for about ten miles!"
"It does not mean anything," said the passenger. - Those if they want to shoot us the same ... »
"Settle down and fasten your seat belts." - Fuchs ordered.
He hoped that he had figured it right. After a minute he gasped at the engines and raised the plane's nose, rising to the right, north-northwest.
A series of air-to-air missiles crashed into the sea, raising splashes of water.
"You know very well that we can not do it ... We're in international waters!"
Fuchs said nothing. He lowered his bow and took it very close to the sea level. He imagined the splashes he lifted. She had done it once to see the girls sunbathing on the beach in Dalmatia. Lower than him had flown a friend who had touched the surface with the propeller of the central engine. He had to make an emergency dump, but he did so well that if the superiors gave him a month of delivery, the Squadriglia commander had wanted him to do so because he had proven to be able to fall.
Fuchs did not, did not lose his plane. Never. He would not even lose it this time.
"Give me the position of November Kilo 6 Papa?" - He asked the motorist.
He looked at him questionfully.
"Ask her by radio."
"Ah here."
He picked up the radio that had given him.
«Here Sparrowhawk ...»
"Damn stupid!" He corrected him.
"Here Hunchback. November Kilo 6 Pope, do you hear me? "
He was about to repeat, but Fuchs stopped him.
"They heard us, wait for the commander to give him orders to answer."
After a while, the radio snapped.
"Notredame here. What does the Hunchback from NK6P want? "
"Your position."
They passed 60 seconds, then came the answer. And the motorist did not give orders and looked at the nautical chart.
«We are about to reach it. At most 3 minutes. - He answered. - But we can not land on an aircraft carrier with this ... find! »
Fuchs did not answer. The presence of the Cavour aircraft carrier certainly did not serve to land you, but it was enough to be there. When he saw it on the horizon, he began to raise the plane. The danger was gone. The Indians needed everything except a fight with an Italian airplane in the face of an Italian aircraft carrier. Certainly the Cavour would not have fired the Harrier, but his presence was a guarantee against the rather sombre conceptions of the Indian law of the Indians.
When he flew over the carrier, Fuchs flapped his wings in greeting. He then turned to the north. It was as if he had made the point.
4.
"Alfierini, please give me the route to Karachi?"
Commander Fuchs had, however, already started staring straight.
Alfierini scrabbled, took the goniometer and gave it a break.
"348 builds North.
"If it's 348, it's north by force."
He did not answer.
After two hours they got in the way.
"Ask Notredame permission to call the Karachi control tower."
After some exchange of messages, the engineer changed the wavelength and called in English the control tower of Karachi International Airport Jimmah.
"We have framed you," said the voice in English. "Do you know the airport?"
"No, but the pilot has studied it."
"Then tell him to take the 13 track. South-South direction. "
Fuchs looked at the clock automatically. It was late in the morning, now of the sea breeze.
"What the hell are you doing?" Asked the operator.
"A helix trimmer."
"I see it," replied the voice. - But do not make them any more trimmers ...! "
"I know."
And so, at the time of landing, though they had followed the instructions to perfection, they noticed that along the track they had dispensed the firefighters' vehicles ... Nice confidence.
The landing happened without any problems and a car ran to the plane before the engines stopped.
A man came down. The two passengers opened the door and that one boarded.
"How is he commanding?" He asked the man, who was Italian, as soon as he put his head in the cabin.
"Fine thanks". Fuchs replied that he had stood up to get off and lower his legs.
"Our idea is to get full immediately and start as soon as possible," said the man. "I am an embassy advisor, and I must tell you that there is some sort of alarming message."
"We imagine. Replied the commander. - We did not do customs - ha ha!
"Come on then. - He pointed to the small vehicle just arrived to refuel. - Can I take the trip with you? »
"Do not you want to do customs?"
"Well, I have a diplomatic passport, but if you accept me, I will simplify my life ..."
Between one thing and another, the plane resumed at 15. No problem with the authorities, but being able to get the takeoff clearance more than expected.
Fuchs had taken advantage of it to rest. It was the hour when he slept more easily at his home. When she woke up she was as cool as a rose. Compared to others, who were less than half of their years, it was definitely a phenomenon.
As soon as it came to the height, this time at 5.000 feet, the motorist gave him the new route.
"3-3-5 for 100 miles, then 3-5-5. Almost North. "
"Mountain quay?"
"We are close to the roof of the world ..." he answered hesitantly. K2, the second highest mountain in the world, is in Pakistan. - But the passage has been planned by climbing the only river of Afghanistan thrown in Indo, Kabul. It takes the name of the capital. "
"Quote?"
"The Kabul valley is narrow, but the river does not exceed the 1.800 meters of altitude."
"Then we take 6.500 feet."
5.
The plane used a bit to reach the desired quota, consuming more than expected and tiring some engines, which were not just fresh intake ... The motorist expressed some concern, but when the Italian diplomat went into the cabin , both avoided showing problems.
"Everything goes on as it should be?" - Asks the new passenger.
"We're a little slower than we expected, but in two hours we enter the sky of Afghanistan."
"Well then. Fuel as we are? "
"Do not worry," said the pilot, using a joke he used in the war. - You always come to earth ... "
The man retired to Carlinga.
As expected, at 18 - by now the light had remained only to the west - the Pakistan border crossed with Afghanistan. The motorist informed the passengers by putting his head in the trapdoor.
"We'll be there in another two hours."
"Do we have enough fuel?" Asked the diplomat again.
"No. Fuchs answered. "
Silence broke out.
After less than two hours, Fuchs sent the diplomat.
"We can not get to Herat. He said to him, pointing at the tank's arrow. "Take the radio and let Notredame know we'll land in Shindand in one hour."
"At Shindand? But will an airport have it? "
"I have no idea. But that's where we will land, because it is the first accessible base of Italian relevance. "
The diplomat spoke long with his while the pilot was getting used to the moonlight. It was Easter and the moon was just right. And the clear sky. It was the time he loved flying. He, the night, the moon, the sight he fitted. Below him the world, above the stars. He remembered the poem of Giacomo Leopardi, the night song of an errant shepherd of Asia. She felt a moment of emotion, then resumed. "I'm getting older," she said to herself.
"They are waiting for us at Shindand. Said the embassy adviser. "Do we have kerosene to get there?"
"I do not know, but here we come ..."
Half an hour later they resumed conversations with the radio.
"The track is not lit ..."
"Nobody's perfect."
"Do not be joking. What can I ask to do? "
"Tell him to bring some vehicles to light up the track with the headlights upwind. Indeed, no. Make them face south-north. We will not be able to change the approach. "
The kerosene ended exactly one minute before landing. The propellers continued to run, so only the driver, in addition to the pilot, realized that they were pushing the air. Better: Avoid panic scenes.
The plane landed smoothly at exactly the 20.34, now local. In Italy were the 16.04. He was lucky that there was a strong wind in the opposite direction and landing came from a manual.
"I've always reported the plane to the base ..."
Immediately around the armed forces of the Italian army, guarded the aircraft.
Someone opened the hatchback and Colonel Corradi's commander, he went aboard.
He thanked Commander Fuchs militarily.
"Welcome to Afghanistan, Commander. I have the order to escort you to CH-47 Chinook, which will take you to Herat. "
They went out of the damned Gobbo and walked up to one of the two Chinooks. In war theater they are always fired in pairs.
A quarter of an hour later they were flying. Fuchs took advantage of it and slept all the way. You sleep when you can sleep. Little, but enough: half an hour later they were at Herat's base.
Waiting for them, General Commander Belloni and his Staff of the State Staff, including Colonel Commander of Herat Air Force, Colonel Borgovechio. There was also the commander of the genius, Colonel Di Petri, whose regiment was stationed in Trento.
"You were right," he said. "Fuchs is a unique character in the world."
"I welcome you on behalf of the Minister of Defense. Said the general. - We made you prepare a nice lunch at the canteen. Then you will rest here in the command building. Tomorrow the C130 will take you to Abu Dhabi. There will be a military Airbus Airbus waiting for you. "
Fuchs ate little and slept little, but now he was relaxing. His mission, from the operational point of view, was over. The Savoia Marchetti "SM79 Sparviero" would have been disassembled calmly and transported to Italy with due caution.
Flight to Abu Dhabi was annoying. The airline distance was only 1.332 km, but for reasons imaginable, the route included Pakistan overboard to avoid the Iranian skies and then go back to the Persian Gulf across Oman. Total, almost three times more.
Even though she was sitting in the cabin, in the guest sofa, it was not a great trip. The tactical flight the pilot had to do in order of the Operation Command to avoid any Taliban's rockets, made it unbearable for anyone who did not fly the plane.
"Do you want to pilot her, Commander?" Asked the pilot.
Fuchs thought, then thanked, smiled and answered no.
Four hours later, they landed at Abu Dhabi and Fuchs looked at the skyscrapers that stood out somewhat across the area. She shook her head and got ready to get down.
Disembarked, he read aloud in the loud voice: "Please keep the individual weapons under your jacket."
The transhipment operations took a couple of hours, then finally our characters took their seats on the Airbus Airbus. The plane was white with only the identification number, with the writing of our aeronautics in discrete size.
For everyone it was a normal commercial plane.
6.
After take-off, the military brought food to passengers. Cold pasta salad, all things considered acceptable. Whoever wanted it also had wine. Coming from a Muslim country, where alcohol was difficult to find even at the base, someone liked a glass because it was like anticipating the return home.
It took a little less than six hours for the plane to land at Sea Practice, where our aviation has a base of 830 hectares. Taking into account that an 18 golf course holes per hectare required only 40, who designed it in the 1930s was really far-sighted: it had built one of the largest bases in Europe.
Now he had an asphalted track of two and a half miles, forbidden to commercial flights.
Two olive coaches came to pick up passengers in camouflage and took them to a shed. In a matter of half an hour they would receive their luggage, as if on a civilian flight.
Fuchs, Alfierini and the three passengers of the cursed Hunchback, however, were not brought down. Downloaded the soldiers, they were brought near another shed. They went down there and were brought into the building. The light was widespread and made it hard to get used to the sight.
An Air Force officer accompanied them almost to the bottom, then they were stopped. Nobody asked questions, they knew they would understand everything soon.
And shortly afterward, a door opened and men entered. Fuchs only recognized one of them, the Defense Minister. He met him with a smile.
"Commander Fuchs, Good Easter!"
"Mission accomplished, Mr. Minister!" Fuchs replied.
"The country is immensely grateful to you ...!" - the minister replied.
Then the diplomat went up to Karachi and took the two passengers loaded in Mumbay and brought them in front of the minister and high officials.
"Mr. Minister," said a very high diplomat, "here are you Massimiliano Latorre and Salvatore Girone."
The two were bourgeois and therefore had to limit themselves to making the military greeting by clapping their hands on their hips and slamming their heels.
"Minister, first Marshal Latorre, second chief Girone, Comandi!"
The minister appreciated the greeting, but then went to embrace the two Navy rifles. They had been held prisoners unjustly for years in India and now they have finally returned to Italy.
Officials present launched their cap in the air and shouted three times "urrah!"
Commander Fuchs had never been accepted like this, not even the victorious return from a very difficult mission. He felt a moment of emotion in his throat, but blocked him.
"I'm getting old," he said to himself.
He was enjoying the scene, noting that among the present were the Italian ambassador in India and the foreign minister of a previous government who had been particularly concerned about the affair of the two Navy Rifles.
Then they all went to the buffet they had prepared side by side and he allowed himself to enjoy the Trentino Parmesan that someone had thought to get from his province. He carefully avoided the sparkling wine, but let him taste a glass of white still wine. Lays on the label that it was a Sylvaner, a vine that grows altitude.
"Commander, we need to talk to you. He then told him a general he did not know. - Can you come over to the command room? "
Almost all came in, but at least they could talk without having to shout.
"I remember the commitment you took when the operation was approved. The same general said that he had brought them in. - Things have gone that way. Commander Fuchs went to Mombay to take the plane as a single pilot able to test him in flight.
He needed weight and made the two "marots" who were there by chance. "
The laughs escaped the present.
"The blame was on Commander Fuchs, who on his own initiative left for Italy without any further evidence. In all cases, no Italian authority knew anything about this. And the two mares have run away against their own will. "
The idea was born of the former minister and to design it had been a senior officer of the military secret services, whose name was not mentioned, but it was evidently a Navy man.
When the operation had been made clear to Commander Fuchs, he had accepted with a good heart, saying that they had waited too long.
The Italian ambassador in India had been caught prudently. With the Indians you never know, so you will not be back. He would have taken the lead of another important embassy.
Then the official version was formulated. The Minister of Defense would announce to Parliament that he knew nothing about it and that he condemned the initiative without knowing it. It would take the right steps with those responsible for the initiative that could have crippled the magnificent relations between Italy and India. However, he was certain that his authority did not allow him to order Marina's two riflemen to return to India.
A few days after India, for its part, expressed its concern. Point.
The Savoy Marchetti SM79 Sparrow was disassembled at Shindand and transported to Herat. From there it was loaded into a container and then handed over to the Caproni Museum in Trento about a month later. He was assembled and made a beautiful figure in pairs with the other damn fool that Fuchs himself had found in Lebanon.
A month after his return home, he was delivered - strictly by mail - another medal, whose motivation was dictated by nebula.
Shortly thereafter he reached a recommended one. He was informed that the medical certificate had expired and that he could still fly, but only with a second pilot.
___
Dedicated to Massimiliano Latorre and Salvatore Girone
