The period between the first autumn of the '98 and the spring of' 99 was not the most peaceful. Winds of war blew from the east, preceded by chilling news of extermination. As always, right or wrong, the order to intervene was executed. From September the ship had been included in the international operation device.
Endless days spent popping in the Adriatic; the stops, however, very short and very busy for those who, like the commissar on board (head of the administrative and logistic service), affectionately called commi, in port must provide for every possible logistical requirement.
Punta Riso, the pier of the port of Brindisi assigned to these fleet stairs, was quickly renamed Punta Pianto, also due to the choreographic presence of the carcasses of the sea carriages with which from Albania, had occurred in the few previous years, the first landings refugees from the rubble of Enver Oxha's selfish paradise and doctrine. Do you know if they will still be wet there? Who will ever claim the property?
One must not think that the necessities of ordinary work cease to exist, as compared to when things are done by exercise. In this way duties and deadlines remain unchanged, whether it is to guarantee the payment of salaries or to assure the supply of foodstuffs or to send officers and non-commissioned officers to periodic training courses, or to report the superior commands on the use of funds, on the welfare of personal, etc.
And if this was the Commi's agenda, colleagues from other departments were not in a more relaxed state. He had little to laugh at the operations department, consumed on radar screens and orders of operation, incomprehensible to the vulgo as the curse of Tutankamen. Little joy even among the staff of the technical departments, dealing with the repair of frequent engine failures and the continuous maintenance of combat systems; activities miraculous to say the least, as resolved with the few precious means of board.
In all cases the human element made the difference. The "power multiplier" (thus, the commander loved to call his people) was well aware of what was being done and threw down the frog without complaining too much, doing violence to the ancient seafaring tradition of mugugno. In short, the ship, in every single member of its crew, had become well aware of what was its task and, in the fulfillment of its duty, the harmony of consciences gave a very special meaning to the term used to define the ships: Unity.
Military operations, although they may be carried out in the most scrupulous observance of the rules, are not exempt, like any human activity, from errors. Errors that can be raised "to the table" in the case of boarding food, if we consider the narrowness of the spaces on board, the different dislocation of deposits and cold storage, the stowage made prohibitive by the scarce accessibility of the shelves, adding the charged by 90 of the boarding operation with the traditional handrail, in times that would spark the spark of envy to the brilliant men of the Ferrari box.
Even without any notice, we had arranged for the best and had started, even hoping for the power of the Italian star and the good ability of the logistical support of land, also because "there are no nuns there are taverns", postponing to navigation the arrangement of everything, so that in a very short time it was all right. Conserved, flour, fruit juices, milk, frozen meat, legumes ... must at all times be so well positioned and placed in the shelves that, if the commander were to access the deposit, the only thing he could feel was the lack of respect an inspection at the wards would be just the bang of the heels. However, the challenging activities in combat, the frequent fire-fighting exercises, the action mess (known as the self-service chauffeur under the highest operating conditions), the abandonment exercises had only allowed to assure daily bread, better postponing the rest of what was left.
In the short two weeks of licensing offered to the crew for the winter holidays (after three months at sea), the Commi - more by necessity than by virtue, is said to avoid sanctification in life - reserved three rich days: 31 December, 1 and 2 January, stop. So the 1 ° January, when guest of the parents of the girlfriend was preparing to be a victim of the magnificence of the "mother-in-law", finished a proschino with snacks, was distracted by the enchanting view of the already set dishes, from the trillare of their mobile phone.
Hello, Commissioner, I am vessel lieutenant Brina, an inspection officer, I wanted to warn you that there is a revolt on board. What? Eh? ”Yes, Commi, the sergeants are inciting the troops, they refuse to eat the lasagna. Excuse me, I don't understand what the problem is: there are two first courses and blank food. Genovese pesto can also be added. Ultimately they can choose four types of first course. Good heavens, what do they want, to eat croissants? No, it's that Sergeant Solpiede says that the lasagna was made with expired mozzarella! Excuse me, but what does sergeant know about it? And then, in the kitchen, the corvée is made up of staff from its department. Why doesn't he ask them for reassurance? What does it tell me? He says that already yesterday the Simonsa cambusiere had told him that today's lasagna would have been cooked with expired mozzarellas and that today 'Simonsa brought him to see the casings of mozzarella in the bins of the rument and that actually the expiry dates were already come and go. Commi, I to appease the spirits I told the "chief gamella" (note: sub-officer of the kitchen) to make another first, pasta with meat sauce. I sent a sailor to pick up the mozzarella casings from the bins. I did look for the Simonsa marò, but he had already gone free (free exit, in the Navy); I have already called the Secondo (note: commander in second) ". Okay, yes, in short, compatibly with the brothel that has been created; please, in the delivery folder there are directives to follow for cases like this. Acquire information from the staff present; to those in the kitchen and the food commission, report that no one is licensed anymore if they don't all release everyone! - their own statements on the matter. Tell the chieftain to notify the chief cambusiere that his license ends on January 3 !. You prepare a nice service report. I'll be there tomorrow. Commands, Commi ". "Goodbye, damn, see you tomorrow and - shit!" - happy New Year".
Click. A new problem begins ...
What's up, do you have a black face, problems? - said the fiancée lovingly - don't tell me ... Tomorrow I have to be on board - he interrupted her - but now we resume that the stuff gets cold and is commanded to honor the parents, to sanctify the holidays and ... the delights of your mother.
"Lesser tone," he said to himself, wiping out the saying that the captain loved to repeat to dampen the impatience of his young commissar, who still divided the world between good and bad, guards and thieves. Of course, the desire to enjoy the lunch was a little vanished, but you know, when you are called to the extreme sacrifice, you answer the appeal. And then that "thin cappun" (note: typical Ligurian dish) was really provoking it.
Commander, Commander, I came back last night and I am at your disposal.
The 08.00 were in place, and while the inspection officer chaired the ceremony ceremony, the Commie appeared to the second commander.
Yes, Commi, thanks, but what happened? Commander, I know how much you, at least I know what Mr. Brina told me. Last night I asked the cooks on duty to give me more information, but they were sincerely sorry and surprised. One of these is just what the incriminating lasagna did. At times he was crying. I checked to see if the Simonsa marò was on board, but nisba, he was still out. This morning from the guardhouse they told me that he returned a few minutes before the end of the franchise. I spoke with the commander - the Second said - he said to make an administrative inquiry and to inform the Naval Division. Do you think about it? Commander, I'll take care of it, but I can only offer myself as a collaborator. I cannot be a member of any commission. I am a party. Yes, yes, okay, put the other departments' officers, but make yourself useful anyway. "Commander, that's why I'm here.
The commission responsible for the investigation gained all the information it could have. Marquis Simonsa had time to reiterate his allegations, exhibiting the wrapping of a mozzarella which had expired months before and promptly acquired the acts, and then took the path of leave. All the messengers, especially the men of the corvée, swore and spermed that not even a crumb of grated pan was not passed without a check on the deadline. The most "senior" of the food commission, if he wanted it to be reported in his report that he would consider a betrayal of his comrades' confidence to do so lightly with that task, as they passed on to each other expressly, the monitoring of the maturity of the genera. Even the eggs, before being opened, were immersed one by one in the water to see if they floated or if they went deep. At the slightest suspicion, coat, basket.
Marshal Cambusiere said yes, perhaps there was a bit of disorder in the store, but he pulled out the papers of the ships, complete with all the documents, including the logbook extract, where everything had been meticulously recorded. To see him now we were amazed at ourselves for being capable of filling "in a cork", in just two hours, a food store that after 20 sea days was vacuum-packed like the spinach box squeezed by Iron Arm. The last shipment had been made about mid-December, just before returning, because it was still unclear if and when the ship was detected.
In short, there was so much disorder, but every time the genres had been checked before boarding and the most perishable ones placed at the entrance of the cells and the deposited to be consumed before. The December 30, then, had been made a summary cleaning of the deposit and the cells and the papers, the packets, the battered cans, etcetera, had been set aside, well closed in the black bags, in the cars in front of the stores and the morning of 31 had been disposed of in the bins. Everything had been recorded in the logbook.
The assumed hypothesis, to give an explanation of the presence of these wraps that did not appeal to the supernatural, was that during the transport and the subsequent launch of the bag in the bin, some of them had been torn apart, causing the content to escape. He did not explain everything, but he was already something and, in any case, used to close the incident. Shortly thereafter, there would also be absolution with the full formula of the survey carried out by the superior naval division. It was merely to understand, as in a yellow one, what was the motive, in order to understand who would eventually receive a bumper license or, worse, a bumblebee.
The Commi summoned the cambodiaere chief and the chief gambler into his lodgings.
Ok, we have been "acquitted". This is the letter. On the other hand I continued to sleep peacefully, as they say: bad not to do, fear not to have, no? I think that you too ... Commissà, also nuje - interrupted that marpione of the cambusiere, Marshal Megulla, to which the commissioner instinctively associated the phrase "no ascertained knowledge of the Italian language" - ccà simme all good guaglione, c'a testa ncopp'e shoulders. Chillo Simonsa, on the other hand, is nu 'malamente. Yes, but for me there is something below. I can't explain how it could have happened; that is, I understood but I could not say. You will say, "the marshal said with a worried expression, while the head of the sack, a young and naive sergeant, made the cow's face that, on a full moon night, raised its chin from the fresh grass, watched a train pass by. race - what a vulete to say with "aggio understood but nunn'o well to say"? Marshal Megulla, you understood very well. I know you know. And now you know that I know. Commissa, vulite pazzià, who was the anagrams? Nun you speak Egyptian. Marshal ... in short, it is clear that mozzarella has always been consumed fresh. Marò Simonsa was the barber shop; 'I'm big stronzone must have brought the mozzarellas in the kitchen and after opening them he put the packages in his pocket, day after day, waiting for the right moment to create pandemonium ”. He will, but ... No, Megulla, now stop at words. We can send the head chef to the kitchen, right? (the young sergeant waited for nothing else but to embarrass himself from a situation that saw him with a guest seat on a stool, reducing to this only his contribution to the conversation and escaped by beating the record of the execution of the sequence standing - careful - a step back - heel beat - behind the front - withdrawn). And now let me continue. The fact is clear. It is so and point. But I now want to know why. Why am I cretinetti made me come back after a day, I say one, I repeat one, a license? Why did he want us to do the San Vito dance, why? Why? Why? "Commissioner, 'stu fetent for three months me scassav'o cazz pecché se vuleva raffermà. But I told myself that it wasn't a thing, that it wasn't good. There is a uniform nun knew addò steva, it was greasy - with respect speaking - comm'a nu puorco, a pen 'n mano nunn'à knew tené, to desire' and hardly miss ce muntava 'ncoppe. Commission, did you keep it for the year? "But I, in truth, ask her to refute her, I do not remember seeing her. And already commissà, nun avite vista pecché nun did it. With all the deliveries done there (note: days of punishment), a rrisate 'nfaccia took over in Rome. Yes, but what the hell, it would have been better if he had asked the question. Commissa, listen to me, I ignorant songo, 'or saccio, but de piezz'e mmerda n'aggio seen so many,' and saccio discovered subbito. The facts give me reason. Vuie site 'ncazzato cu mmè and it is right. Nunn'o penzavo that it was so bad, I know it was wrong too. But still, you can still lose my life, license and patience, and have been liberated at Marina by a leech. Commissa, creriteme, as soon as they confirmed it, chillo marcava visita (note: it looked like a sick man) and if he took his salary he stayed at home.
It ended with a scary cazziatone, such a head wash to raise the level of the sea. But ends there. At least for the Navy the danger had escaped. A piece of shit less.
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Author's note: this story has already been published on the site www.paginedidifesa.it (now no longer active). I thank General Giovanni Bernardi, Director of PdD, for the hospitality then grant me.
