[Xilon_x]

Here is Part III.

Have a good read!

Q. So, there were just sixty airplanes to defend Rome?
A. Yes, there were just us and some other night fighter at Centocelle, only this little. There was Rotondi who flew with a Lightning captured from the American and I almost shot him down, this idiot… At Cerveteri we had to wait the order from the Ministry before taking-off, but Falconi, as soon as he knew there was a bomber formation flying towards Rome, gave us the order to go. I had the 202, and we headed towards Ostia. That was the day of the famous bombardment of Rome, the 18 July 1943 and it was said that to the famous star Clark Gable was participating to the operation: I tried in vain to spot the figure characterizing his aircraft.
Q. Is there any combat in particular that you want to speak about?
A. Well… one day, just after the bombing of Rome, came the news that a new airplane was going to be delivered to our group, it was a Macchi MC. 205. We had a sort of meeting to decide who was going to pilot that new machine and, due to the number of air victories I already had, I got it. They gave me a travel permission and I went to the North to get this new aircraft; when I saw it, I asked for information and explanations. “What do I have to tell you?” said the test pilot, a Roman, “this is still the 202. Only one thing: if you have to shoot, don’t fire all weapons at the same time, otherwise the recoil is too strong. Either you fire the 20 mm cannons, either you fire the 12.7 mm machine guns.” However, I never followed that advice and I always shot all the weapons together: if it goes, it goes… “This is the 202, come on, go!”… Instead, as soon as I was up I realized that the engine was more powerful. I arrive in Cerveteri and Maj. Camarga (?) says: “Gorrini, tomorrow you’ll be resting”. And I: “As long as I haven’t done a combat with this one, I’ll be in full alert every single day”. That aircraft lasted 48 hours!
The commander ordered me to take-off after all the others, since I had the most powerful and better armed aircraft and I was supposed to be his left wingman, while all the others were on the left wing. He was Capt. Giuntella, today a General. They leave and the I leave too, at last, in the middle of a big dust cloud; we arrive offshore Ostia and we spot a huge formation of enemy bombers. We had no clue about where they were directed, we believed over Rome again, but later we learnt that the objective was Sulmona where there was, hidden in the forest, the armored division of Herman Göring. A big formation, just there before my eyes: the commander signaled me to keep calm, since we were on radio silence, but at the end Capt. Giuntella, since I was insisting, let me go. I went up, and while climbing I attacked the last on left, aiming between the wing and the fuselage: it was a B-17, a “flying fortress”. I did a looping and came back, just in time to see the wing literally torn off, with the two engines still turning and her (the fortress) spinning down. The airplane fell on the airport of Nettuno: I was at 7,000 m, but I could feel the air blast and I saw two or three parachutes opening and I did the same old stupid mistake who all pilots do when they shot down an enemy aircraft, that is turning to look where the aircraft falls. An escorting fighter, a P-38 Lightning, bounced me, I saw its bullets passing over my head, it just missed me by one inch and then it did a stupid thing coming into may line of fire: I hit it squarely, it exploded and if I didn’t hold the stick I would have passed inside the explosion. I saw the pilot who had the time to bail. Then I go back to pursuit the formation, crossing all Italy and intercepting it on the objective, where I attacked the last B-17. I did several attacks and after a while I saw 9 parachutes descending, but the airplane kept flying normally on his course. I attacked it again and I did something that I’ve done only few times, that is shooting the cabin, but there was nobody, they activated the autopilot. The airplane started to lose altitude and, once again, I followed it to see where it was going to fall. Twelve Lightning attacked me, 6 on one side, 6 on the other. I kept the aircraft turning and, since I was continuously shooting long bursts, the weapons were overheated and the left cannon exploded perforating my wing. I was trying to escape, I was horribly scared, around 3,000 m the canopy fled off and broke the antenna and damaged the tail section. In such conditions, with my only map that had been blown away by the wind, I kept pulling the stick to the point I even bent it. I descended to 1,500 m and I saw he sea, I tried the radio. I called, I called… no way. Finally I got an answer. I was over Pescara, I remember the port; they gave me advices to orientate myself, but I was running short of gasoline. Moreover, they told me not to land in Cerveteri since the airstrip had been destroyed by a bombing. The first formation we intercepted had been followed by a second one that attacked Cerveteri. They told me to land at the Strisce (literally, “the stripes”), near Ostia, close to the tower where, later on, Salvo d’Acquisto was fusilladed. Fuel kept decreasing, I couldn’t see Cerveteri coming, I couldn’t see the Strisce coming: finally I was over them, but suddenly the propeller got stuck, there was not a drop of gasoline left. I remember the high voltage cables of the railway, and that I pointed the ground to try to make some speed and pass them, it was the force of despair that saved me, also the landing gear didn’t work properly. I landed and the Major came to me, furious, I was afraid he was going to eat me alive. The aircraft was a wreck. “Commander, I’ve got two 4-engines and a fighter!” “Don’t tell me bull****!” was his answer. “That’s no bull****, they didn’t fall in the sea, they fell behind our lines. I’m not a commissioned officer, let’s go and check”. We had a Fieseler Storch, a German reckon airplane. We left, even if I had never piloted it before, and we arrived in Nettuno. There was a huge crater, the flak guys told us that the two pilots could bail out and were captured by the Carabinieri (Italian MPs) together with the Germans.
“That’s the first!” We went to look for them (the 2 B-17 pilots) and they told us they’d been attacked by a single airplane, extremely fast and without insignias. “Ok, let’s go on” and we went searching for the Lightning over the Nemi lake… Finally we landed on a grass field and two kids told us that they’d seen an engine in the surroundings and that the pilot had been captured by the Carabinieri. We went to see him, the pilot was French and he told us that he had a fight against an aircraft without insignia. Then we had to go to Sulmona, and the major hesitated since we had to cross the Apennines and we got inside a thunderstorm that shook us for forty minutes. He wanted to go back, but back was darker than forward, water was entering the cockpit. Then we arrived in Sulmona and we went to the German HQ where there were some prisoners, among who stood a huge guy. He was the flying fortress commander, an Australian. He told the same thing the others did: fast fighter, no insignias, isolated. “I’d like to met the pilot”, he added, and the major pointed me. The guy offered his hand and he held mine so hard that I was almost going to kick him. Then he wanted to give me a gift, he opened one of his boot, took a 7.65 mm pistol that offered me.
Some days later they shot me down over Frascati, after I had shot down a Spit and I was attacked by four of them.
Q. The 25 of July Mussolini fell, did people realize what was going to happen later on?
A. Look, our morale always stayed very high. We were good, we lived I the Hotel Margerita of Ladispoli, near Cerveteri. There were many cinema artists from Cinecittà , escaped from Rome: many actresses. In the evenings, after dinner, we went to take a coffee in the only bar of the town, where we could be with all of them.
And who had shot down an airplane had a bottle of spumante offered (sort of Italian Champagne), it was fun, can you imagine?
What happened on June 25th didn’t affect us. We went on like nothing happened. We knew that in Fregene, close to us, there was Ettore Muti, if he had came with us he would maybe have his life saved and instead they killed him.
One day they sent us to defend Naples, we did already many times and we arrived that the bombing was already done. We started to pursuit the enemy formation and we got attacked by Spits. I was hit by a cannon shot, I was over the Volturno (river) and luckily I was over 8,500 m; my group kept following me, but the engine was still running and by radio they told me to keep calm. I had been hit in the radiator and, keeping a low speed, I managed not to burn the engine. I not even hoped to arrive to Cerveteri, which had been repaired, but at least to Ciampino: but I couldn’t do this also because I was scared to crash on the Colli Albani (hills East of Rome). Radio kept telling me to be calm and, finally, I saw on my left an airport, that was the one of Pratica di Mare, where Germans were. I started to loose altitude and I lowered the landing gear: the engine suddenly stopped and I had to raise the wheels in order to pass over the fencing. Then, the landing gear didn’t want to go down again since it was connected with the engine, thus I had to work the emergency hand pump. I landed on a wing, I got a tremendous shock and the only thing I remember is that the Germans were very quick to rescue me and avoid the airplane to get upside-down. They transported me to the Celio (a military hospital in Rome) that was completely full and refused me; so they transported me to the Littorio hospital, where also Lt. Cavatore was, since was shot by a cannon shell of a Lightning who met face-to-face, he had been hit on the left hand, the controls torn off from his hands, he was piloting a Messerschmitt and he managed to land at the third try holding the stick with his legs and the throttle with the good hand, and I saved his life by shooting down that Lightning. Cavatore saw me on the stretcher held by two Germans who just dropped me on the first free spot. He gave no sign of life and nobody knew if I was Italian, German or even English: my suit was covered with oil and I had no personal ID tag. It was Cavatore who recognized me: “That’s Gorrini”, he said, “he saved my life ten days ago…” And, since after the shooting down over Sulmona I became famous, I had been cited on the war bulletin and on the cover of the Domenica del Corriere (a famous newspaper) designed by Beltrame, other people recognized me. They cured me and I was attended by Susanna Agnelli who was a nurse in the Littorio hospital (she is the sister of Giovanni Agnelli, son of the guy who founded FIAT). There even was some tender between us and… we had to get married, but I told her “You are the FIAT, I’m just a little sergeant…”
We’re still good friends, and we're still in touch.
Here's Part IV and last one of the interview with Luigi Gorrini.

At the end, he does some political comments on the Italian situation in '43-'45 and at the time of the interview (year 2000). I am aware that it is quite OT here, but I wanted to keep the interview it its integrity.
However, I kindly ask you not to use Gorrini's statements as a pretext to start political discussions and/or flames!

Have a good read!

Q. What about September 8th? (it was in 1943, the date of the armistice)
A. When September 8th came, Susanna, who had already managed to get me a new uniform, proposed me to go with her to Rocca di Papa (a small town near Rome). But I wanted to go home, even if she insisted. At the end, sad and resigned, even moved, she accompanied me to the train. We said goodbye and just in my compartment two German officers came and took place: I wore a German decoration, a 2nd class Iron Cross and they really didn’t know how to behave with me with all that was happening, and I didn’t know too. Talking and trying to understand each other, by using some French words, we managed to keep a conversation until Orvieto, where, thank God, they got off the train. There in Orvieto a young lady got on the train, and when we managed to arrive in Bologna, that had been bombed, I helped her to carry her luggage while crossing the town to take the train going to Milan. Once on the train, we got stuck in Reggio Emilia by some German soldiers giving orders: they told to the men to get off the train, all the males. “You stay here with me” said the lady “I am Bulgarian”. When the guys with that plate, the Feldgendarmerie, she put her coat over me and they just passed by laughing. That’s how I could be saved. In Fidenza she also got off, we drunk something in a bar and she told me she lived in Piazza Piemonte in Milan and gave me the address. At the station I asked for someone that could bring me home and I found a guy with a car working with coal; it was since some months that my family had no news from me. The guy with the car was scared by the Germans, but I managed to convince him.
Q. How did you choose to keep fighting with the RSI (Repubblica Sociale Italiana)
A. I was home since a couple of weeks, when Commander Falconi invited by radio all his pilots, the III Wing, to go back in Milan. It was already a problem to arrive in Torino, since nothing did work… Falconi remained in the III Wing and after September 8th, after giving the order to destroy all airplanes to not let them be salvaged by the Germans, managed to obtain from Kesserling a series of bilingual written documents and guarantees. He gathered the pilots and asked them if they wanted to keep fighting and, if yes, to be ready to transfer in Turin. Everybody accepted, except Lt. Melis who preferred to go to Sardinia with a 133 together with all the other Sardinians. I went to Turin by bike, I departed in the morning and at five in the afternoon I arrived. He was waiting for me, I was still chalked, so he called a driver and he accompanied me to the Molinette.
There they made sure I was ok and they took off the chalk; it was there that he introduced me to a captain who I didn’t know: “This is the first squadron commander of the of the first group of the National Republican Air Force (Aeronautica Nazionale Repubblicana). He was Capt. Visconti. Falconi wanted to put me in the second squadron, but that captain wanted me in the first at all cost. Thus, all pilots of the III Wing went in the second squadron, the Wasp (la Vespa), but I ended up in the firs, the Ace of Clubs(Asso di Bastoni). The only two pilots of the III Wing who didn’t go in the second were the poor Cavatore and myself.
We started all again: Visconti was an extraordinary man… I made with him the best combats. He was from Tripoli.
He was not married… we were trying to bring him away from Musacco, but Aniasi didn’t want, it was he who killed him, together with two others… who is surely blaming for that now. The group of partisans named Redi controlled the barracks where was Visconti after he accepted to surrender to the partisans, once he assured the life of all his men and the mediation of Eng. Vismara. We were in Gallarate and we were fully armed, we still had some airplane that we put in a circle ready to fire. The partisans couldn’t do anything, they could have harmed us only if they had some tanks. Although some other officers and the squadron commanders told him not to trust the partisans, to surrender only to Americans, Visconti trusted them. The mediators went away once the surrender was put on paper, and he remained in the barracks, the now Called Montello ex-Savoia-Cavalleria, where I am fighting to put a commemorative stone to remember the sacrifice of Viconti and Stefanini. We all gather every year, the 29 of April, in Musacco to honor his memory. However, it went like this: in that Montello barracks, Visconti and some other officers were disarmed, and then they told Visconti to go somewhere to be questioned and Stefanini, whowas his attendant, went with him. As soon as they were in the courtyard they shot them in the back, he just had the time to shout “Cowards!”
Stefanini tried to protect him with his body and died immediately, but for him they needed the final shot… the killed the coolest guy who existed, as a man and as a pilot. The best combats were with him, we never got them above… we could do 11,000 m with the 205. Imagine that he was one of the last to keep on fighting, on the Garda lake, maybe it was April 20th 1945 when it had a head-on with a Mustang.
The one with the RSI was the best period. We had a commander who knew what he wanted. We had few airplanes and the enemies arrived with such formations… we had two operative groups, the whole Republic had three fighter groups, a transport group and the torpedo bomber group Fagioni. Look: the Americans were happy that we were just a few, because even if we were a few we were not a joke in terms of the damages we inflicted them. Our group shot down 112 airplanes and the second group did the same. Of course, we lost two hundred pilots… but we sold our skin for dear.
The first group was trained in Turin and then, under the surveillance of the Germans who didn’t trust us, we got the first fights. I remember the very first times we got some kills when the Americans bombed Villar Perosa. Then we moved in Campoformido, near Udine. And there it was incredible, we were always up, always in the sky, night and day, up to four fights a day. We attacked even formations of five hundred four-engines airplanes that were going to bomb Germany: first, we attacked them and their escort fighters were forced to drop their tanks, thus the bombers crossed the Alps but remained without escort and also in Germany they were attacked by the German airplanes. Once they were coming back, again we attacked them, to the point that they had to change their tactics: they started from Foggia, bombed Germany and landed in England.
Cimicchi, gold medal of the Southern Air Force (the one fighting with the Allies), said me: “Gigi (nickname for Luigi), I was in the South, but my hearth was with you, and many of us felt the same! You don’t really know how many airplanes you shot down, I counted them when they took off and when they came back, I was working with a major who commanded a group of Lightnings. When he knew that they were going against Germans he would show himself, but when they know that they were going agains you, many of them just kept their bottom on their chair…”
They considered us like ferocious animals, ready to do anything: look, we were really very determined and motivated. On the way back he could see wounded and dead people getting off the airplanes. Every year, the first Sunday of June, there is a meeting of the Republican Air Force on the Garda Lake, I am organizing it since almost twenty years. Several hundred people come, also the Germans. Neumann used to come, who now is dead, Gallad came, Steinmann comes, he gave me a cigarette box as a gift, I saved his life in the sky over Udine… his Messerschmitt was already burning and the had two Thunderbolts attacking him: I could dogfight them and burn one of them and make the other flee. He was terribly wounded, he was all burned… then, he became the Luftwaffe commander in the Federal Republic of Germany: he honored me with the first class Iron Cross.
Q. Which was your last fight?
A. My last fight was when I was shot down on my 205, it was the fifth time, near Reggio Emilia. I always had the 205 when I was in the RSI, sometimes the FIAT G.55. They alerted us very late and we took off, but we couldn’t manage to climb enough so they attacked us, they shot me down at Fogliano. I opened the parachute, but on touchdown I hit my back hard (it still hurts) and I lost consciousness. There were some peasants around me that maybe believed I was an Englishman or an American. Maj. Visconti arrived with his car and brought me to our doctor, who visited me and sent me to the Reggio Emilia hospital. The doctor of the hospital gave me a leave: I was in bad shape, close to a nervous breakdown, and I went home. When I got back, everything was about to end.
Q. How did you live the end of the war? Where were you on April 25th?
A. I was in Milano and I had the time to see Mussolini hung… I was renting a room with some other pilots in Leoncavallo street… it was on the corner with Sire Raul square (where Mussolini was hung).
Q. Did you ever met the partisans?
A. Yes, I met them already when I was in Reggio Emilia… I met them one evening I was in my car, a FIAT Balilla Coppa d’Oro that was owned by Villoresi, a pilot of the Mille Miglia. I bought it for 40,000 liras (19 â"š¬), it was in perfect conditions and full-optional. When Visconti saw it he thought I had stolen or requisitioned it… and then, he also used it to go to see Gianna, his girlfriend, to avoid using the military car. However, it went like this: the poor Magnaghi was shot down while he was doing an engine test over Reggio Emilia and there was even a troupe from the Istituto Luce (a very famous company doing a lot of films and documentaries at that time). They wanted him to perform some aerobatics… Magnaghi went up but he forgot to plug his radio; when he was about to land, he got 4 Lightnings on his back who shot him and hit his leg. He was very bad, and one night the doctor comes to me and says: “Gorrini, the oxygen cylinder is empty, you should go to the pharmacy in Reggio Emilia and get a new one…” I take the car and go, and when I am near the madhouse I see a red light, it was very late, 2 or 3 am…
“Where are you going?” says a harsh voice.
I was in uniform, I answered “I’m going to the pharmacy to get an oxygen cylinder”.
“Is it for the guy who has been shot down?”
“Yes”
They let me go, and the same happened three days later.
Unfortunately, even if they cut Magnani’s leg because it was rotting, there was nothing to do and he died… You see, the partisans knew the group of Visconti, they knew what we were doing and they left us alone.
It was that brigade, the one who killed Visconti, that obeyed to orders coming from up, from the CLN (Comitato di Liberazione Nazionale, the National Liberation Committee), in particular from Pertini and probably also Cadorna. Visconti scared them: it was a man with an incredible charisma, a man who could be a problem… Once back in Milan, the problems begun, the Liberation days. We went back home and found two bad looking guys… two policemen. “Follow us”, they said, and we went to the police station and from there to Bresso, in a sort of concentration camp: I saw unbelievable things there. We had to live all the day with just a small piece of bread. Our uniform saved us, because by night, those poor guys of the GNR and the X MAS (GNR = Guardia Nazionale Repubblicana, Republican National Guard. X MAS = Decima Flottiglia MAS, 10th MAS Fleet; MAS means Motobarca Armata SVAN, i.e. SVAN Armored Motorboat, where SVAN is the name of the factory near Venice where they were build)… ten partisan on one side, ten on the other, they made them pass in between and hit them on the head with the rifle butts, some of them died after the very first hits. Sometimes they waited for someone to go in the field to do his needs, and they shot him down with some excuse… I saved myself because I managed to make a letter go out, and a car with a tank came to take me and three others. They made me fill a form and, two weeks later, again two policemen came home, and this time they brought me in S. Vittore (a prison in Milan), I spent four months there.
I got out that I was skinny, denounced to the military tribunal and degraded… they did me anything… Finally I had to go to the judge, it was said it was Jewish… I said goodbye to everybody home… I had no money for an attorney and I went in Milan by bike, I remember that I left it by the wall of the Palace of Justice. One of the employees scared me saying the judge would hate me since he was Jewish… I knocked at his door. He let me sit down and I presented myself as a not-graded pilot, since I had been degraded. He corrected me: “You are Senior Sergeant Gorrini” then he opens my file… “Ah, so you’re the guy who wrote down this big bunch of paper…” I just had filled the questionnaire who they gave me, but I also enclosed a sort of diary: I wanted to tell everything I had done, really everything. He doubted my statements: “Even the Chief of the ANR couldn’t have done all this!”
“I confirm everything, that’s the thruth!” I answered.
Then he closes the file, put it back in the cabinet and stares at me in the eyes “Go, go, we would need more men like you!”
I went out running and trampling that employee with all his papers: I descended the big stair and cycled so fast that even Coppi or Bartali couldn’t catch me! I got back home, and then I rejoined military service in Lecce, first as an aerobatic instructor and then as a flight assistant, but it was all different and maybe not interesting.
Q. Can you make some evaluation on the present situation?
A. I just tell you this: to give me the gold medal they needed 13 years, the one for the flights made before September 8th! They stopped it three times, dismissing the commissions. A the end, the presidents of these commissions should have wondered if it was because of some idiot general that something that was decided was then stopped. It didn’t count I was in the RSI, since the medal was for things I did before. The Chief of the Air Force then said to General Via, the guy who kept stopping that medal: “If Gorrini deserves the golden medal, then just give him. If he deserves to be fusilladed for what he has done after September 8th, the just fusillade him”. Taviani studied all the papers and finally wrote the confirmation by his hand. Regarding the promotion, I should have had it in 1942, but since I had been in the RSI I got it in 1972! I should have retired has a Lt. Colonel, as all guys of my course, but I went back home as a Marshall. I get a retirement salary of 2,100,000 liras (a bit less than 1,100 â"š¬) per month, just this for 40 years flying, most of them while putting my own life at risk in war! I am not interested in money, it’s just a matter of ethics. I have no children and I’m here in my house with my wife, and the Americans want to buy all my “souvenirs”. But I want them to stay in Italy.
However, what I’ve done at that time, with the RSI, I’m ready to do it again, because I was convinced to be on the right side. We had no political party, we just defended the Italian towns, our homes and our honor from the bombing of the liberators. We all knew the war was lost in El-Alamein, and I’ve lost it twice: on September 8th and on April 25th. But, I repeat, all I’ve done at that time… all those tons of bombs we avoided to fall on our cities, this is an undeniable historic merit. I don’t lower my eyes face to anyone, I did it and I’d do it again.
I thought that after all that happened, Italy would be held by honest people.
Q. How do you see the future for Italy?
A. There’s the risk that we end up like Yugoslavia or Albania. I pray God that I’m wrong, but as long as we see those guys around. The cleanest one has scabies…