A tale o'war

[ambrafoxtrot]

but the foundation of the US Navy UDT and SEAL teams has its origins in the Navy Scouts and Raiders which were formed in 1942 when Italy was at war with America

Correct again: WWII was not over yet, when the Americans started to use Italian GAMMA operators personnel to train and put together their first combat swimmers team to employ in the Pacific.

A bunch of traitors (or patriots) depending on the what point of view of the Italian Civil war 43-45 you see that from, accepted the American "request" to help create a "pilot" team of US swimmers, reverse engineer Italian classified equipment, and instruct the Americans on all the operative procedures of the GAMMA operators of the X MAS

Source OSS declassified documentation. Let me know if you want me to send you a PDF copy.

As for the Sahayetet 13 creation back in the late forties, you just have to Google the name of the Grandfather (and honorary commander) of the unit:

"Fiorenzo Capriotti"

greetings

ambrafoxtrot

P.S. the pictures...can you see them ?

[RN7]

Originally Posted by ambrafoxtrot

Correct again: WWII was not over yet, when the Americans started to use Italian GAMMA operators personnel to train and put together their first combat swimmers team to employ in the Pacific. A bunch of traitors (or patriots) depending on the what point of view of the Italian Civil war 43-45 you see that from, accepted the American "request" to help create a "pilot" team of US swimmers, reverse engineer Italian classified equipment, and instruct the Americans on all the operative procedures of the GAMMA operators of the X MAS

Source OSS declassified documentation. Let me know if you want me to send you a PDF copy.

Well that wouldn't suprise me that much as most of the US post-war space and rocket program was built on German rocket scientists and Nazi data, and they gave amnesties to Japanese germ warfare scientists who turned over their data to the US after experimenting on people during the war. I don't think the Italians realy had their hearts in the Axis during WW2, as they toppled Mussolini very quickly after the Allies invaded Sicily.

Originally Posted by ambrafoxtrot

As for the Sahayetet 13 creation back in the late forties, you just have to Google the name of the Grandfather (and honorary commander) of the unit:

"Fiorenzo Capriotti"

greetings

ambrafoxtrot

P.S. the pictures...can you see them ?.

Well I can't say that I know much about Israeli naval special forces as they don't come up that much in the aspects of T2K and its a fairly obscure piece of history, but wasn't he a diehard fascisist?

But there is of course a difference between extreme Italian nationalists and Nazi's, as otherwise the Israelis would have shot him the first chance that they had.

Yes I can see the pictures

[Muti]

This work is really well written. I also notice that for Cantatore you use the picture of a real Capitano of Carabinieri (the ranks on his shoulders are correct).

Just for information, the Capitano in your picture is Gianluigi Di Pilato from Compagnia Ventimiglia recently transferred to Compagnia Forlì-Cesena.

[ambrafoxtrot]

Muti
Thanks for the nice words.

I've been interested in the Carabinieri since 9th of June 2009, when the director of CIA said: "You really are the best at what you do".

[ambrafoxtrot]

kcdusk

Take your time and welcome on board

[Muti]

ambrafoxtrot,

ma sei italiano? Are you italian?

[ambrafoxtrot]

Part 12: The Battle of January 11

Lario was on watch for the first two hours of the night and he was scanning the surroundings with his binoculars. Darkness and silence were almost total except from the crackling noise of some fires burning nearby and some barking dogs, God only knew how they were still alive. He could not believe that nobody had stormed the building yet. He continued to repeat to himself that there was no reason why he should be still there and that he actually shouldn’t be there.

Brooksville once a logistic supply point for the Ariete Armored brigade advancing towards Orlando, was by now nothing more than a ghost town with no more tactical use than a big empty hole. He didn’t have any idea of what the situation of the brigade was. All he knew for certain was that the MP coy had been destroyed or at least dispersed by the attack of the panicked mob coming from Tampa Bay and St. Petersburg and that the logistic company that used to be in town had been used to man a cordon around the north outskirts, and now he had to presume that it was gone too, given that since he come into town a week before he didn’t see anybody of that unit either.

He was pondering that his mission would have to be either to try to go back to the 11th Bersaglieri battalion with whom he had a brief contact the previous week after barely escaping an encounter with American infantry, or even better to head back to Hernando Beach where brigade command was supposed to be located. He didn’t particularly liked this second solution because he had a member of the 11th with him private Goia, and the commander of the unit, Major De Gaetano, gave him the specific task of exploring the route from Nobleton to Tampa and report back the situation. He was the only survivor of a detachment of the 9th Parachute Regiment, and he wasn’t happy.

While Lario was weighing his options, sudden noise came from downtown in a crescendo of screams punctuated by occasional fire weapons staccatos. Lario senses sprung into activity at full regime in less than a second accompanied by a surge of adrenaline which shook away any trace of sleepiness. The more time passed the louder the noise became and he was matter of seconds before Goia was at Lario’s side asking for information on what was going on. Lt. Frigerio popped out of the basement where together with Kate was taking turns sleeping and tending at the patients of the hospital. Screaming and clanging raised and rose in intensity to a point where the distance didn’t let louder volume to be heard. Lario judged that the theatre of the action was a mile, mile a half westbound of their position, so no immediate danger for them yet. He looked at Frigerio, who meanwhile reached him and Goia staring out of the window.

Lario stood for a minute or two to hear if the noise got closer, but it did not. Then he suddenly turned towards his mates:

“gotta go for a patrol gentlemen. This could be something big happening. We need to know what’s going on, and fast.”

“I’ll be right with you” said Goia “Lemme get my equipment.”

“Negative” Lario retorted “you stay here in case anything happens…besides, I move better on my own.”

Goia was about to protest at Lario’s decision but he was already up packing his ammo and his M-16. He quickly completed his preparation with some more camo on his face, and securing his equipment to the BDU so that nothing would clang.

Lario looked back at Frigerio before slipping out the window.

“If I’m not back by dawn Lieutenant, please consider the possibility to evacuate and reach the 11th up north. Goia knows the precise location of the unit. If they are not there anymore, there will be instructions to follow cached somewhere on site.

Frigerio limited himself to a nod and whished Lario luck. Kate appeared from the door leading to the basement and exchanged a quick glance with Lario. He smiled at her and took off the window, quickly disappearing in the dark.

Lario moved tactically. He dashed From building to building pausing often to listen to possible dangers around him; but it felt like the town was deserted if was not for the bedlam coming from west. It sounded like those town summer fests, where all people are gathered in one spot and the rest of the place is dead. Only problem was that he wasn’t hearing band music, cheering and firecrackers but screaming and firearms noise.

After he passed a couple of more blocks, the night started to be pierced by red and black glazes of fires, projecting sinister shadows on his path and the noise was of course raising in intensity; the more Lario approached the source of the noise and the more details he could hear. He moved another two blocks and he started to recognize that some kind of big riot was going on. Then he came to an intersection that opened on a fairly big open space containing what it seemed to be a school or something like that. And the scene that presented in front of him could have been taken from hell itself.

A full scale medieval battle was going on; three different roads converged on the site and all of them were crammed with people trying to make their way to the main theatre of the battle. Luckily for him, Lario approached the place from a housing compound, crossing backyards and fences, which kept him out the lines of confluence to the carnage. People were fighting with any kind of real or improvised weapons imaginable, from spears to firearms. Some cars were on fire, which gave a spectral tone to the scene, and so were a couple of wood houses on the east boundary of the open ground theatre of the clash. At each charge a number of people remained motionless on the ground; some stabbed or crushed by hand weapons of various sorts, some other hit by bullets fired with any apparent directions from different locations within the crowd. It was a devastating looking mess, something in between a British colonial engagement with some natives and a giant stadium riot so common in Europe before the war. Lario didn’t find anything better to do than hiding under a fence, in a little ditch to try and understand exactly what that shit was all about. At the distance he stood from the massacre, about 250 yards, the noise and view could have taken directly from Dante’s Inferno.

After 20 minutes that Lario was observing the scene, he could not yet make out the dynamic of the battle, which didn’t give any sign to cease; neither he could tell who was who in the giant fur ball, but at a certain point he noticed that the clash was taking a decisive turns and that the struggle was diminishing in intensity as if one part was about to be finally defeated. Before that could happen though, he saw a new surge of combatants coming down from the opposite side of the school and with horror, heard a large group of people running from behind his position towards his very position.

Lario quickly rolled on his side and managed to crawl behind the porch of the house he was hiding close by and fortunately for him none of the new comers had the time of the presence of noticing him. The party run right past him, silent enough, and as far Lario could see, well armed with shotguns, pitchforks, iron bars and other assorted weapons.

It seemed like the stream of newcomers were very well prepared and that they were acting under some kind of either organized or preplanned direction, because as far as Lario could tell, their intervention put an end to the battle. Coming from two different directions, they hit the mob in the square in a flank and in the back, and what it seemed to be the winning faction till minutes before, got quickly and promptly routed by the reinforcements intervening in the clash. After brief resistance, the succumbing part was slaughtered by the winners and very few managed to flee and to avoid death. Those few were chased by the winners, but this part of the action quickly exited Lario’s line of sight.

The scene that Lario had in front of him in the aftermath of the battle was probably the most apocalyptic he had ever seen in his life, as he evaluated that the biggest hospital of a big town in peace time could not receive the number of wounded and mauled of such a battle, many of them still moving and crawling on what had been the battlefield. Lario couldn’t see all the details from that distance, but the noise of the clash was being substituted by the moans of the wounded and the screams and cries of the people that try to give first help to those people. Lario could smell the blood even at that distance and no pre war training could have prepared him for what he was witnessing. This was the apex of human desperation and ferocity bundled together, he thought, before his brain managed to resume tactical thinking. He thanked God that he had been far enough from the action not to be able to see the closest details of the effects of the struggle on those bodies, and slowly but surely he started to move backwards in order to leave the site. He needed to go back to the medical post of what remained of the 8th Carabinieri company and convince everybody to get the hell out of that town.

picture 1 A father trying to get his family out of the mess
picture 2 Lario's point of view