Casella di testo: 166

The people within Amicizia  

(Author: let me make a short introduction to what follows: Bruno is going to relate some of his experiences with some alleged extraterrestrials; they said they belonged to a kind of Federation of many different planets. Bruno gave them the collective name of “W56”. They have been on our planet for millennia. In Italy, they had built a huge underground base, very deep, and really very large, extending from the middle of Adriatico sea westward to central Italy, and ranging from Ortona northward up to Rimini; the ceiling was 300 meters high, and the global volume was so great that it often rained inside! Of course there were many other smaller bases, nearer to the surface. These people were hostile towards another race, whose “people” were a kind of biological robots; Bruno had named CTR’s these latter. Now, I let Bruno speak.)

In April 1956, Giulio, an engineer, Giancarlo, an accountant, and I, were returning home from a long stroll on the beach, and were talking about a rather unusual discovery, a parchment that we had been given by a friend of ours, who had found it in the bottom of a trunk owned by an ancestor. This parchment was worn out, and almost illegible, written in red and black ink, and on it there was a kind of map, showing a castle in Ascoli Piceno. The castle was supposed to conceal a treasure, or something like that, but it was not clear what kind of a treasure it was to be, whether diamonds, gold, or whatever. We got to my house, in Genova street (2), and went to my study. The room was totally green, because of a lamp, and of a writing-desk, whose surface was made of a single green crystal (green is the color I like best). I experienced a strange sensation, a very beneficial one. In fact, all the three of us were feeling as though we were full of energy, bright, and euphoric, feeling healthy and youth. It was a novelty to us, and we were speaking among ourselves, wondering about this novel feeling. We were sitting in front of a large window, through which we could admire a very wide panorama, and a timber warehouse; the light was coming from our left, with the green lamp giving a feeling of peace. My engineer friend was smoking one cigarette after another, and I told him to stop smoking. At the same time also Giancarlo was getting very nervous.

We looked again at the map, which was at this moment almost useless. It was lying on the table. Suddenly from its place in a pen-holder, one of my pens jumped out by itself, and landed on the map. At first we feared that it might have made a blot on the map, but this was not the case. Of course, we then started discussing what had just happened.

While we were looking at the map, I glanced at the sky, through the window, and said to my friends “How wonderful the sky is tonight”. Giulio answered “As always”, and, while joking, we decided to get back to the problem of the pen. Giulio asked me “How could the pen have jumped out?”. I couldn’t answer, although I was the only one in the group with experiences in paranormal phenomena; I had already acquired wide experiences in the field, I had met many masters from the east, and was practicing yoga on a regular basis. I had written two books on paranormal subjects, one about the cutaneous plaques, which was suggested to me by the teachings of professor Giuseppe Calligaris. The other book was on the extra-psychical phenomena, telekinesis, exoteric subjects, and the like.

I took the map and the pen, and also took a mill-board that I used to write on, also bordered in green,  which I covered with a very thin cloth. I placed this board over my legs, put a sheet of paper on it, while my friends were holding the map. I took the pen, and positioned it over the board. The pen started to move by itself, while I was just holding it between my fingers. It was writing, perfectly, in Italian. After having written some text in Italian, it replicated this text in an archaic language, then in Latin, then in Greek; then it started writing hieroglyphs, ideograms, and other signs that we were could not understand, but which contained a great sense of harmony throughout. Just after that, in a perfect Italian, it wrote: “Now I am going to explain to you who I am, where I come from, and what I want to ask you; I am here to give you the good and the knowledge”.

The sheet was full, I gave it to my friends, and they were trembling; I was not allowed to tremble, because I still had the pen in my hand. We remained in my room for an hour, or an hour and a half; when we left, it was about half past midnight. It was difficult to part from one another after what had happened, so I had to go with them. We stopped at the crossing between Genova and Firenze street, promising that we were to meet again next evening. (this happened in April the 6th, 1956 – Author).

When we were again together, I went to sit behind my desk, and took the mysterious map from a drawer. We looked at it in silence, everyone thinking by himself. We realized that we had to go there, which we decided to do the following Sunday. We also decided to take with us some additional underclothing, because we figured that we had to walk far into the country, which would cause us to perspire, and therefore we thought we could get to a public lavatory to change our undergarments.

We left on Sunday at 8 a.m. in Giulio’s FIAT 600, and arrived at our destination some minutes after ten o’ clock. I had already seen this castle, during the war, because I had been evacuated to Ascoli Piceno, and in those days I used to go to this castle by walking through an alley which led uphill, surrounded by pines and spruces. The first time I saw it, I had felt astonished and almost enchanted. This second time, the three of us remained still some minutes, without speaking. Then Giulio broke the silence, saying “We have to start, or otherwise we will remain here enchanted”. So we started walking around, looking at the structures, and comparing them with the drawings on the map. After an hour, we had obtained no results, but we still had a strong desire to try to get to that treasure.

Two hours and a half later, we went back to the car, having decided to return to the castle two days later. We went to a coffee-shop to drink something, because we were perspiring. During our explorations, Giancarlo had fallen into a pit, and was covered with dust. We asked the bartender where we could clean up, and he directed us to a narrow street going from the town-hall to Piazza del Popolo, where there was a public lavatory. We washed there, and, as it was some minutes past noon, we decide to have a lunch. After that, we returned to Piazza Meletti, where we had a small glass of Anisetta (Author: it’s a local spirit, invented by a Mr. Meletti many years ago), and we then drove back home discussing the day’s actions, always aware of this sense of energy, a beneficial and strange effect. We also felt we were being watched, and often we asked each other “Who is spying on us?”.

Monday night, we met again at my place at half past eight to discuss what had happened, and to make our next. Although we had slept just a few hours, our bodies were full of energy; Giancarlo had his hair still wet from a shower; Giulio said “We must win the match”.

We were astonished because, after a hard day, with all kinds of problems, and having slept just a few hours, we were feeeling very efficient, and always accompanied by these euphoric sensation of well-being, and health. It later happened, that whenever we were with our friends, either in their presence, or under remote connection, we always had such beautiful feelings, together with pleasant scents of pine and incense, and flowers. They were situations not to be mistaken for phenomena deriving from holiness: holiness does actually exist, but it’s a different thing.

At the meeting, we resumed our discussions, and strange and different ideas emerged. We were convinced of what had happened, but we were not actually sure what the causes were. Why not an origin closer to us, a more human one? Giancarlo had accepted everything from the very beginning; in that he was probably better than Giulio and myself. From my own part, I felt that it was true, I was sure it was gold, but in the meantime I felt I needed to go to a goldsmith to have my “gold” verified. Giulio was concerned more with technical problems. He was an engineer involved in hydraulic activities, and was wondering whether he could get new solutions from our friends.

During the discussion, someone remembered that in Germany one of his relatives had shown him a book which he read, claiming that after the war the Nazis had continued their researches in biology and genetics, that some beings had been born during these activities, and were living in deep caverns, as big as cities, and so on. Of course that’s science fiction, with political overtones, written with the deliberate goal of confounding human minds. However, perhaps, our correspondents were these German achievements? Or maybe they were Russians, from some unknown success of the Soviet research? Who knows?

The next day we went back to Ascoli Piceno. During the trip, the three of us were silent, which was not a good idea, for, when you stay silent, that means that you are thinking, but do not want to let the others know what you are thinking, and that’s bad. I was trying to understand what was going on, I asked them if everything was all right, and they said that yes, everything was OK. Giulio said that he was perplexed, because he was spending all of his time thinking about this situation, and “you know, I have a job, I have responsibilities, and if I get distracted who knows what may happen”. Giancarlo asked us in a rough manner how could we actually be convinced, and I was trying to remain calm. When we reached Ascoli Piceno, the debate was over, they became quiet, and by then we were as usual in the central Piazza del Popolo. On one side of it there is the ancient cathedral of St. Francis of Assisi, and nearby the town-hall, a monument from the Middle Ages. We took a short walk around, just like prisoners, without speaking. Then I told them that it would be better to go to a bar to have an Anisetta, and the other two agreed, Giancarlo sooner than Giulio. Giancarlo had always loved a lot to eat and drink. While we were sitting, we suddenly began to feel that we were being called. It was a very strong sensation. So we went to the castle, and there, at the top of the road, I saw my friends calmer than before, really relaxed, for we were close to the origin of the call, and surely that’s where it came from.

All of a sudden we saw some specks of light moving in the air, something like the small seeds that come flying all over in spring, or like cobwebs, but in this case there was light within them. We heard a voice, coming from nowhere, a very calm and strong one “Now, my friends, stay calm, because I am going to have one of us appear. Are you ready, or aren’t you?”.

Giulio was very upset: “What happens if someone comes along and sees what is going on?”

“Be sure that while our friends are with you, nobody else will be allowed to intrude; if they do we will divert them away”.

A man came out from behind the wall, followed by another. It was our first encounter. We saw these two persons emerging from a narrow track encircling the castle. We were very upset. One of the men was very tall, the other very short. We were just in front of the main entrance, and they came towards us, speaking our language perfectly. At first, in the dark, we thought it was just a joke. But, as they approached, we saw that one of them was more than 2.5 meters tall (Sinas was the name he had chosen for himself), and the other was about one meter tall (his name would be Sajù). The latter had a squeaky voice, as dwarfs often do, but his body was perfect, although smaller than usual. His voice was that of a powerful man, a man in charge.

They came to us, and we felt an intense emotion. They both shook hands with us, very gently, because we felt that they were very strong. We felt at that moment a strong sense of love coming through their hands.

We were totally calm, even to the point of making jokes. Giulio asked “Are your women also as tall as yout?”. He understood immediately that his question was out of place, and excused himself. It was his self-conscious reaction to what had just happened.

We remained there for over one hour and a half, discussing about everything. At one point, I told them: “Look, my neck is hurts, because I have to force my head back, so that I can see you. Let’s sit down”. He agreed. There were some steps nearby, surrounded by three small trees (which have now become really big - Author), so we sat on these steps, the smallest one on the top, the three of us in the middle, and the tallest one some steps down. How many things they told us! That theirs was an important mission, that they had been here for many years, that he had been here three times, and that three or four centuries ago he had been in Central America, because in that area there were bases operated by other aliens, which he had helped to get hold of, and that there was a war, unknown to us. He said that they usually kept to desolated areas, where nobody could see them, so that they would not bother anybody, and at the same time they could not be bothered by anyone.

He said that usually they get mimetic, so that nobody can see them, and I asked “Why, you have been seen at times!”, and he answered “It must have been when we had diverted our attention. We are beings just like you, after all”.

They were perfectly aware of our history, our religions, our philosophies. The very first words they said were “This Earth was made for the good, but the men who inhabit it are transforming everything into bad. We are not here to conquer, we have nothing to conquer; our interests arise from the fact that your Earth lies within our stars, and so we are concerned with it. I do not live on a planet, but everywhere I happen to travel”.

“This is a critical point in your history, a turning point in your technologies, but because of your childish enthusiasms you are forgetting your moral values. That would be a pity if you forget them, because everything arises from morality, and everything is done because of it. For this reason, we had, and we are still having, many problems with your people in the Middle East, and you too are going to be in trouble with them in the near future.” (3)

He was speaking a perfect Italian, while the other one was not so good at it; but their subjects were different from our usual ones. We speak about politics, eager to achieve a social goal. We want to emerge, to do something in order to get new means, while to them all of that was nothing. They were speaking of morality, and that they were living according to that principle. They said “We are going to receive a boomerang (they used the very word “boomerang”) from what we have done, that will allow us to live as well as you are seeking to, do you understand? Our good and our reality will be stronger than your doubts”.

Giulio, who was a bit materialistic, said “If I do not work from 6 a.m. to 8 p.m., I will not make enough money to live”. He answered: “This conditions of yours is due to the fact that also work has became an unpleasing thing for you: working does not satisfy your expectations. We are satisfied with what we do.”

A long time had elapsed. “Now we must get back”, he said. I had a watch with a luminescent dial, and it was three a.m. We parted warmly. “We are going to meet again, from time to time” they said, “but probably in a different place. We’ll let you know about that”.

We did not want to let them go, so we started asking them to stay longer with us. He turned himself and said “I know that you still have many questions, many doubts; this attitude is a correct one. But we will try to answer your questions later and to remove your doubts, and also to teach you something very important”. Then he embraced each of us; I felt a strong warmth, a good warmth, like when you are cold, and cozy up to a fire place. The small one came over to me; I bent down, and he put his hands on my shoulders. Then, he pressed my wrists, and left.

We stayed there until sunrise, discussing what had happened. When the sun rose, we realized what time it was, and Giulio got up in a hurry, because if was time for him to go to work. He worked near Popoli (some 40 km West of Pescara), so he got the two of us to Pescara, and then he went to his job, without even stopping at his home. Giancarlo also had to go to work. He said “I’ll take a shower, then I’ll go to work; but how can I go to work, after all that?”. Actually we were not tired, but only over-excited. We would have liked to have more time for discussion, but it was not possible, so we all went about our usual activities.

That night we met again, at 9 p.m., with the usual discussions. They had told us to go to Colle Orlando, a small hill to the South of Pescara. In these days, an engineer, a friend of mine, was making surveys there. He had told us that they were going to cut a road through the hill, and indeed some time later I noticed that actually they had cut the hill into halves, and in the center there were still machines working on this job; but this was not of any concern to us.

The next afternoon we went to Colle Orlando. We left the car at the end of the road, and went on walking, taking a small transistor radio (4) with us. Suddenly, through the radio they told us to stop and to arrange ourselves into a triangle. At its center we saw a twinkling light, a kind of vertical light. It was like a very long brooch, a kind of a needle some 50 cm long, with three crystal balls at the upper end. They told us: “Put your hands on the spheres”, and we obeyed. Giancarlo actually grabbed one of them, as if trying to take it away! They said “Do not throw, just keep your hands on them”. The spheres were some three cm in diameter. From the top of that long needle, something like puffs of phosphorescent smoke started to come out. They rose up to the height of our faces, and then disappeared. After a while the brooch of light entered into the ground, and disappeared. Then we were told to go back to the car. That particular place had been transformed into a kind of facility for us. A subterranean base was to be built there so that “… when you come within 30 km of here, you will be able to communicate with us by thought, but only when you are ready to do so”. They also told us “Look inside your pockets: you will find small plates.” Giancarlo put his hand so strongly into his pocket that he almost poked through it. I too looked inside my pocket, and found a small, rectangular plate, whose color was between platinum, and silver, with a lot of, say, small diamonds all over its surface. They were not real objects embedded into the surface. If you rotated the plate, small specks of light sparkled on its surface. They told us to wrap these plates in a sheet of silver paper, and to protect them very carefully. We decided to keep them inside our wallets. These plates were another method to get in contact with them. “As a third means” they went on telling us “you should put copper plates inside your shoes; copper will also do you good, because it will insulate your body against electric fields”. (in the following days, Giancarlo put two actually massive copper slabs inside his shoes). We did what we had been told to do. I went to Di Giacinto’s shop, near to the railway station in Pescara, and bought a couple of thin soles, put two small copper plates inside them, and since then I have always used these “copper soles” inside my shoes.

“Now we have to do something to your dog” they went on. Were they going to transform my German shepherd into some kind of electronic dog? As if they had read my thoughts, they told me that there was no problem; on the contrary, the dog would be better off after the operation. But, as a dog has four poles in contact with the ground, while humans have only two, they told us that they were going to make not two positive poles, nor two negative ones, but rather they were going to fit my dog with electrically oscillating poles. “How are you going to do that?” I asked them. “Don’t worry; take your dog for a walk along the seashore, as usual, and when we advise you, send your dog into the sea, and make it swim in the water”.

Dik, my dog, was a very good swimmer, and was very fast in the water. When the following day came I sent it into the sea. It entered the water, and then, all of a sudden, it looked at me, and made a strange sound, and Giancarlo said “You see, now they’ve put the gizmos into your dog!”. “Now, observe how your dog reacts”, they told me. And, actually, my dog came back to the shore, lay down on the sand, and started licking its paws. “Now it has four nuclei inside its pads, that won’t hurt it; we could not have done it any harm, because we feel a great respect for animals too. We really love them”.

When we had to get in touch with them, we usually arranged ourselves in a circle, with Dik in the middle- The dog usually was lying down, and as the communication began, I felt the process happening much easier than before, it’s difficult to describe exactly how. Before I feared that the connection might be broken if I made the slightest move, and I took great care not to alter the situation. Now everything was much easier.

“Beloved brothers, I come from the stars. Up there, far, far away, inhabited planets exist. I do not know why I must do that, but, as it is my duty, let’s try to cooperate together, in peace and harmony. Now I’ll give you some directions that you must follow exactly. For the moment, let’s take a six minutes pause”. During these six minutes, we looked at each other. We were very impressed, but in any case we were feeling fine and very happy. Some minutes before resuming the contact with this unknown being, we felt within the room a strong smell, a very pleasing one. After exactly six minutes, it started again,  and they told us to go back to the castle, to look at one specific place, at the right side of the main entrance, then to go to the outer wall, and look for a black rock among the bricks, and to place, each of us, our left hand over it for a couple of minutes.


The next day we went again to Ascoli Piceno, and once again the radio in the car switched on by itself, and we were told to tune it, and listen. To our surprise, caused not by fear, but because it was a new and inexplicable fact, a calm, profound voice came out; not the voice of an ogre, but that of a good human being. It made me think of Buddhist monks who, hours after hours, repeat “Om”. First one being, than another one, began speaking. They told us a lot of amazing things about human beings, about their great possibilities, what we should know but do not, about their anxieties concerning our civilization, which had taken many wrong paths, forcing natural and terrestrial laws into dangerous reactions, capable of producing great damage and destruction. Now I do not recall every word, but I can state with certainty that those beings, unknown to us, were using words which carried very deep meaning, so that it would have been wrong to consider them fantastic or abstract. They were real words that the men on earth should have understood.


The next contact did not happen at the castle, but at my own home. We had several radio sets, among them a small Geloso (5). We were told to wash our bodies, and to wash our minds at the same time, thinking of religion, and avoiding thinking of wars, and the like. We entered my room, at 10:30 p.m. It was at the end of April, 1956. The radio set was sitting at the center of the table, and the three of us formed a triangle around it. A voice came out from the radio, saying: “In the near future, it will be easier to us to communicate from mind to mind, and, to do so, I choose the one among you who masters the abilities we use. He will have to go, for an eight-months period, to the top of the hill named Colle del Telegrafo, he and his dog, from 11 p.m. to 6 a.m., rain or snow, hot or cold”.


I did so. After the third month they asked me to stop, because they wanted to review what had happened. They put a small nucleus behind my left ear (6). This nucleus was supposed to activate, inside my mind, the ability to communicate telepathically with them. They said that it was the same apparatus they used when they had to operate instruments from a remote site. When they introduced it into my body, I felt no pain, nor disturbances, nothing; they told me that it was for my own good.


For four months longer I had to go on with this process of climbing Colle del Telegrafo at night, stay there, and return in the morning, always with Dik, my German shepherd. Nothing happened to me, not even did I catch a cold, although in winter it was a very chilly place. I used to take a bottle of water with me, a thermos full of coffee, some aspirin, and during the nights I poured some coffee for Dik. At first, there were many by-standers, who probably figured that I was totally crazy, but after a while they got tired of spying on what I was doing in that isolated environment. I didn’t care too much about the people around, but the presence of my dog was always a great help to me.


During this time, and after that, we went on, spending afternoons in long discussions, walking along the sea shore, with all of our friends that were part of our small “stars community”. We received so many revelations, so many predictions. They elevated us, and made us understand that there are many differences between true wisdom and that which comes from an unenlightened, presumptuous mind, which usually deals with unknowns through his self-sufficient knowledge. They told us that knowledge may dwell inside simple minds, while false knowledge may inhabit ambitious minds, which have the sense of personality, and the will of dominion and conquest, but not the sense of individuality. Man cannot conquer anything, nor can he create anything. The unenlightened man, usually, has a consciousnee focused on possession, while the man who has a strong sense of individuality seems to show an apparently weak personality. He usually speaks very little, but when he does speak, he has something to say, and often his listeners do not understand what is being said to them.


These lectures, on several subjects, went on day after day. They were obviously not intended to transform us into geniuses. Often they dealt with facts that we, terrestrial men, at our cognitive level, were just able to accept, but not to understand. For instance that an inanimate object is aware, in one way or another, of the feelings of the people around it, and reacts in a quasi-intelligent way to the attitudes of those who try to use it in an inappropriate manner. They spoke of their love for the universe, for the whole of creation. They were always speaking about the blade of grass, saying that the whole universe lies inside a single blade of grass (That’s Fractal Analysis ante litteram! - Author), saying that if we love a plant, it will grow better, while if we hate it, it will probably die.


One day, they told us to go to Ascoli Piceno, to meet three more of their people, whose names would be Luxor, Siderius and a real giant whom we were to name Romolo (7), who was so strong that he could literally bend a cannon! But he was also of a very gently nature, he was used for certain specific jobs. In short, Romolo was an enlightened person, not at all a porter or something like that.


The three of us went to the castle one afternoon, sometime in the spring of 1957, probably in March, for Dik was just a puppy. Probably it was march. Sigir told us: “Now that we know each other, you understand that we are not phantoms, or devils, nor are we the products of ancient technologies invented by the fools that have ruled your Earth, Hitler and the like”. “OK”, we told him, “introduce us to these new people”. We had no fear, but any way we were very impressed by this strange and unusual situation.


Ask my wife, who  entered the kitchen of the flat we had in Milan, and found there, sitting on the floor, Dimpietro, a man more than three meters high, who was sitting so that he would not frighten her with his height. We came to call this man “the poplar”, because of his height. He was a true leader, not a domineering one, but still authoritative.


When this happened (8), my wife had just come home after her shopping, found this incredible being seated on the floor of our kitchen, got frightened and ran into our bedroom, locking the door behind her. I had told her about our friends, but she had never met one of them, especially our “poplar”. In the meantime I was walking in the neighborhood with my Dik; deciding to return home, I looked for the caretaker to let into the building, but he was nowhere to be seen. So, I rang the bell at the intercom, and my wife opened the door. As I entered my flat, Alessandra, my wife, told me that there was “somebody” in the kitchen; Dik had already gone there himself. When I entered the kitchen, I found Dimpietro seated on the floor, and Dik sitting beside him. My wife, who was still terrified, told me “Take care of your friend”, and flew away to the bedroom. Meanwhile, Dimpietro remained seated, without uttering a word. Then he got up, his head just gouching the ceiling. “How will we talk to each other” – I asked him – “with a megaphone?” ”That’s why I sat on the floor” “So sit down again” I said, which he did. He told me “Your wife is terrified of me, but do I look as though I would terrify anyone?” “It’s not that you go around terrifying people. She knows that you’re a man from another planet, and she’s very upset, do you understand me?”


Dimpietro was silent for a short while, and then he told me “Look, now I have to smoke” In those days, I smoked just cigarettes, and I offered him my packet, but he turned them down “No, these are just for children. You go downstairs. You’ll find a blue Citroen, with a white roof, parked just in front of your building; here are the keys; do not get upset when you see that there’s no driver’s seat, because I need to sit directly on the floor of the car. You’ll find some cigars inside the gloves compartment” I did as I was told to, found four cigar boxes, and came back with one of them. Dimpietro opened the box, took a cigar, then he asked me where the could leave the cellophane. I didn’t answer, so he threw everything into the sink. He told me “Call your wife in. We have to calm her down and convince her that I’m not aggressive, and that I don’t cannibalize other people”. I went to the bedroom, and found my wife pale and afraid. I asked her to come back to the kitchen, and to make some coffee, because our guest was fond of it. She was still troubled, and had problems even with making coffee, as her hands were trembling, but she managed to finish. She had a “napoletana” (Author: it’s an old kind of coffee-pot, from Naples, that you had to turn upside down at the right moment; I barely remember having seen one when I was very young). “That’s the coffee-pot they use in Napoli” Dimpietro said; “You know everything” I answered him. “There are three kinds of it – Dimpietro went on – take care because you must reverse it as soon as the water starts to boil, but be sure to reverse it in a quiet way”. My wife was looking at me rather confused. Then, she took some small cups (Author: as many Americans are already aware, Italian coffee is very concentrated, and it is served in small cups), but Dimpietro protested “No, I need a larger cup!” So my wife served him the coffee in a milk cup (Author: about a quarter of a liter) which means that he got almost all of the coffee. ”Forgive me, but I’ve gotten used to coffee” “Do you need any sugar?” “No, no sugar at all”.


In the meantime Dik was looking at him, at times annoyed by a fly, but always very attentive. Later, as dinner time approached; my wife asked me “What should I make for your guest?” “Make me – he answered – a “frittata” (Author: a kind of an omelet, Italian style) with hot peppers” “Have you seen a pepper plant?” “No, I haven’t, but I know you come from Abruzzo (Author: the Italian region with Pescara, Montesilvano, and the other places already mentioned), and people there are used to peppers; and, please, do not spare peppers” In the end, he prepared his “frittata” by himself. We offered him some bread, but he refused, because he said he wasn’t yet accustomed to our bread. Instead, he asked for some wine. In my kitchen there was just some white wine, and I knew that he drank only red wine, so I phoned to a nearby grocer, and in a few minutes we had a bottle of “Corvo di Salaparuta” (Author: it’s a very good Sicilian red wine).


I opened the bottle, and Dimpietro said “Would you allow me to drink directly from the bottle? I am used to doing it this way. If you like, I’ll pour some wine into a couple of glasses for you, and then I’ll drink from the bottle” And he drank the whole bottle, in three mouthfuls. “Doesn’t that hurt you?” “No, you must understand that it is not the quantity that hurts, but the quality” “And don’t you feel heartburn, because of the hot peppers” “Yes, but I like it; moreover, as our intestines are longer than yours (mine in particular!) peppers help peristalsis, and that’s good, because I am able to defecate on a regular basis. That’s usually a problem for our people”.


Then he smoked again, and the time came for him to leave. He knelt on the floor, embraced my wife with great delicacy (she was still a bit upset because of that unusual dinner), and told her “Remember, I do not eat women, I only eat peppers, pasta, and some sweets at times; the next time I’ll come, I’ll let you know in advance, so that you can prepare some sweets for me”. He kissed her on her forehead. It was a strange vision, I can assure you, looking at this extremely tall man, with a stern aspect, kneeling on the floor and trying to calm down my poor wife.


It was three o’ clock in the morning, and he had to drive the Citroen parked in the street. Luckily it was night, and nobody was around; of course he could not use the elevators, as he simply could not enter it; so Dimpietro, Dik and I went downstairs, with a great care. He opened the car, and I could see that there was no driver’s seat, so that he could sit directly on the floor. He entered just as if going to bed: first the legs, his feet in front of the right seat, helping himself with his hands, then sitting on the floor and finally forcing his legs on both sides of the steering wheel. “Do you have any problem with the pedals” I asked him “Not at all; if necessary, I can use my hands to operate them”. Of course, this was true.


He started the engine and began to move. I asked him “Do you know the way?” “I know every street, even the alleys” he answered, and sped away. I was feeling as if my own father, or mother had left, a very strong emotion.


Let’s return to that March afternoon in 1957. When we arrived there, we were told to wait until night, because the place was rather full of people. “In any case it is good that you have come, because at night you will see some ships you haven’t seen before”. “Fine, but why didn’t you tell us in advance, so that I could have brought my camera with me?” “You would not be able to take a picture of them”. “Why not, if I can see them?” “It’s a different situation. There are differences that you cannot understand”. In the late afternoon, we were relaxed, waiting and smoking. They had told us not to worry, they were not going to appear all of a sudden, like aggressors. They would tell us in advance what would happen.


We asked the permission to go downtown to find something to eat, so we walked down and entered a café. We saw a large tray full of freshly cooked candies, to which Giancarlo and Giulio paid the honor it deserved. We were very merry, almost euphoric. I drank a small glass of Anisetta, a drink I like very much, and then, while my friends were still eating, I went out and entered a near-by church. I was feeling gloomy and happy at the same time, an unexplainable sensation. When I finished with my prayers, I went back and looked around a bit. There was a magnificent medieval arcade, and nearby a printing-house, and a bookseller. Looking at his shop-window, I noticed a book about St. Ignatius of Loyola, and as I had long been looking for information about him, I entered the shop, and bought the book, then went back into the café, only to find my friends still eating!


By this time it was nightfall, so we climbed uphill again to the castle. Some twenty minutes later, they told us to follow a narrow path, and to go down some steps, into a woods. Looking at the wall on my side, I noticed a yellowish foam coming from the cracks between some bricks. I was told that it was a sulfurous substance, slightly radioactive; “When you pass by it on your way back, shine your flashlight on it and you’ll see that it is also a bit phosphorescent”.


We were met by the three newcomers; they approached us, smiling. They were not exactly beautiful, but we could not say they were ugly, either. The first thing Romolo told me, in a perfect Italian, was “Our dear friends, what were you expecting? To see monsters? Look how handsome we are”; Giancarlo, as usual, made one of his little jokes: “Yeah, but, as big as you are, where can you be seen in public? It’s better to be little, may be even ugly”. “Look, we are not here to bring you the civilization, but because we are following a plan that has been designed by someone higher up than us, in order to study and to intervene, and to allow you to understand us in the proper way”. “Do you know me now? Pay attention to me, and remember that you will have to do what we tell you. If you do not obey us, you are going to hurt yourselves. You have been lucky. Be quiet and you won’t be hurt, even if our enemies try to create ill will among you, and do things that you can’t even imagine. We are aware of that, and so it will be up to us to protect you.”


Dimpietro had rented a small isolated house in the country, near to Forlimpopoli (9), which was owned by an elderly woman. He lived downstairs, while she had retired to the upper floor. He was used to cooking his own meals. He told the woman “Look, I really enjoy playing the violin at night”. And she answered “Do play whenever you like, there is nobody around”. Indeed there was no building around, just a narrow path, 1.5 km long, which lead to this house. And so, at night, he would go out, and play his violin. Think how small the violin would be for a 3.5 meters tall man!


When I went there, he told me that he was waiting for an Austrian, or perhaps a German, a Mr. Gustav, “who has to come, because now he must now go underground”. He asked me to find a way so that the both of them could go to Ascoli Piceno, where the main entrance to their big underground base was. I had to rent a large car, remove the front right seat, so that he could sit directly on its floor, thus appearing to be a normal sized man sitting in the car. I asked him why there wasn’t a tunnel from his house down to the base, and he answered “Why? I can enter from near the Rocca Pia in Ascoli Piceno, so there is no need to dig so long a hole; I am not a caterpillar!”.


So we arranged to take him to Ascoli, and arrived there at 2 a.m. We went to the castle, and found three of them waiting for us, Sigir, Meredir, and another one whose name no longer remember. We shook hands, and then Dimpietro said “Now I must go down”. He spoke perfect Italian, and moreover he knew most of the Italian dialects. At times he made us laugh, telling jokes in a very serious style, which added to the fun. He went down. We stayed outside with Meredir, talking about so many things. He told us that we would meet their younger people, for there were youngsters with them, and they were having difficulties adapting to their situation. It was a sacrifice for them to remain hidden underground to work, taking care not to be seen around, with the CTR’s (10) who were attempting to make damages.


One afternoon, Giancarlo phoned me saying that that night he would be a little late in coming to my house. “If there is anything important – he added – please call my house number, because I will be there this afternoon at home, seeing a person to discuss problems with my new house”.


Then I got a message from our friends: that night three spaceships were to arrive, and the three of us (Giancarlo, Giulio and I) were asked to be at Ascoli Piceno, for our presence was necessary at the event. I tried to phone Giancarlo to inform him, but nobody answered my calls. Later I learned that a general telephone blackout had taken place in Giancarlo’s area. Therefore I got in touch with Gallarate (11), and he told me not to worry, as he would solve the problem. He told me to dials a very strange number on my telephone. It was a very long number, with some thirty figures in it. I did so, and this time Giancarlo actually answered my call. He was amazed to hear his telephone ringing, because he had been told that the breakdown would last until the following day.


So that night the three of us got together, drank some tea and went to Ascoli, arriving just in time. We stayed outside the Rocca Pia, waiting for something that none of us could describe. All of a sudden, the sky changed. It was as if the stars were painted on a solid background, but not a steady one. It was more like a veil, that was being shaken as if a strong wind was blowing. But in reality there was no wind at all, and usually wind doesn’t shake the sky!


“What is that – asked Giancarlo – a fishing net?” “Don’t be silly” said Giulio. Far away we saw three very small little spots, approaching the place; they were very shiny but their light was not blinding us. The ground under our feet started to tremble, so strongly that Giancarlo was thrown off balance, and fell down. We were astonished. It lasted some 15 minutes, during which Giulio took shelter inside the car, and Giancarlo sat on the ground. “Ask them what’s going on” he told me. They were almost hysterical, and I was not able to quiet them down.


All of a sudden, two of the lights grew larger and disappeared. We realized that they were the spaceships we had been waiting for, and that two of them had already entered the underground base. The third spot just switched itself off. A few moments later, Gallarate, Sinas, and another alien appeared, together with Dimpietro; “What’s all this mess, what are you afraid of?” he asked us in his strong voice. Then he started to pull our leg: “I didn’t bring any toilet paper with me - I didn’t expect you would need any”. We were happy being with them, but at the same time we were feeling a bit uneasy, because one could never tell what was to happen when Dimpietro was around, a notorious practical joker; this time, though, nothing too strange happened. All the six of us sat on the ground. Dimpietro took a big cigar out of a box. He threw the empty box away, admonishing us to pick it up before leaving. Then he broke the cigar into four parts, keeping one for himself and giving us the other pieces. Then, he lit his cigar, with a flame coming out of … his forefinger, and laughing at us!


In the meantime, I noticed some strange activity. Some aliens were coming toward us. They were walking past, disappearing behind the wall. I was a bit curious about what was going on, and began to follow them, but was stopped by Dimpietro: “Where do you suppose they are going? At home we have several houses, but here on your Earth we have only this place. They are entering our base” “But I can’t see them going in” “Well, but you know how we are - we like to be a bit spectacular, at times”. Dimpietro, at his most typical.


I went on: “Does the door close after each one of them?” “No, it doesn’t” “Then, may I go and have a look?” “You’re welcome to”. Then he stood up, and, with his great height and size, he lifted me off the ground with one arm, and Giancarlo with the other. As I was wearing suspenders, they broke off, so I was going to lose my trousers along the way. When we got to the entry, I saw an opening in the ground, like a vertical tunnel heading downward. I thought that the tunnel might have weakened the castle foundations, and, as if reading my thoughts, Dimpietro said “Do you believe that we are such fools? We have taken care of strengthening the structures, so that there is no risk”. During all that, the procession of people was continuing; they were carrying parcels of every shapes and sizes. Everything was wrapped in a kind of silver paper, or at least it looked like that.


Dimpietro took the two of us back, and said that he had to go down in the next ten minutes, so he urged us to light our cigars. We refused, and I kept my cigar as a souvenir. But after so many years, it dried out and crumbled, and now there is nothing left of it.


Then we left. As usual, Dimpietro embraced each one of us, which meant that he had to kneel down so that his arms were more or less at the right height. We approached him one at a time, and embraced him. He was saying “Please, let the world know that we have come here with a great love towards you. You speak about love, but you do not know what love is. It is the very basis of life itself”.


We went downhill, to the usual Meletti coffee-house, and stayed one hour longer, discussing what had taken place. It was now three o’ clock in the morning; the waiters had already gone, and there was only the owner of the shop, an old acquaintance of mine, who excused himself, saying it was already long past closing time. Thinking back to those times, I remember that we were actually always very close to one another, always surrounded by a feeling of well-being and elation. When we were going to meet our friends we felt like young boys on their first date with a girl. We were happy, excited, and nothing could have prevented us from being at appointed rendezvous at the appointed time.


We got back to Pescara and stayed talking in front of my house, for another half hour. We would have liked to stay there the whole night long, but Giulio had to workin the morning, and needed at least a little rest.


In another occasion Meredir (12) told me to go to the Rocca Pia, taking with me my tape recorder; it was a small Grunding, battery-powered, metallic unit, an office instrument. I was told to lay it down on the ground, and to start recording. When later on I listened to the tape, I could hear clangs, creaks, cries, shouts, because, I was told, I had in fact recorded the noises of an actual battle that had been raging inside their base. They had been able to seize their enemies; both of them had powerful weapons, but our friends had also a conscience, while their enemies were cool, hard people.


Then, at last, we were told that we were allowed inside their base! Giancarlo and I were in front of the castle, and were told to wait; in that area the day before Giulio had left his car, a blue FIAT 600, and had left it there for our use. He should have reached us, but was not there, and we were wandering why; only some days later he told us that he had mistaken the day.


Then, we were told to go to the right side of Rocca Pia, and to stop at a certain point of the path. I started feeling that the ground under my feet was kind of trembling, the same sensation you feel when you stay near to a pneumatic drill in action; I was fearing that may be there was an empty room under us, and that the ground was going to collapse into it, because of our weight. On the contrary, the ground opened itself, and somebody came out. We were unable to speak and that man told us to get down with him, but I couldn’t ever understand how. He told us to proceed toward the empty area in the center of the hole through which he had ascended; I was fearing I would fall down into it, but he told us to place our feet in certain areas (there was nothing at all visible in there); I did so, and felt as some invisible step was preventing me from falling into the pit. Then this invisible floor started lowering into the vertical corridor. When next day we got out, I could see that my feet had grown slightly red, and later on I was explained that it had been because of the process of descending into the base and of ascending out of it.


The descent stopped inside a huge subway, with crystal-like walls. It was filled with a soft light; we looked around for the lamps, but were told that there were no lamps of any kind. “You cannot understand – he told us – but this place is filled with a peculiar radiation that interacts with the energy of the photons, it’s a bit as if we could switch on the photons; moreover, they get continuously re-charged, while this radiation is active”. The light was beautiful, a light pale blue. We could also feel a scent, and the air was very clear, we could see far away. It was strange; in later times I was able to verify that, even if you were smoking, you could see through the smoke, with exceptional detail. There were no shadows. “Look – I told Giancarlo – there are no shadows”. “I know, I too had invented something like that, years ago”, and our friend smiled.


Our escort was Meredir; almost immediately we were met by Sinas and another one, whose name now I do not remember. We walked with them, for more than ten minutes; it was a pleasant feeling, walking with these three friends of ours, inside that huge structure. I was feeling calm, with a well-being I had never felt before. It was as I would receive doses of well-being as I was breathing the air. They explained that the air was different from the one available in our towns: it was full of negative ions, that were the cause of that sensation. “Touch your hair”. I put an hand over my head, and felt that my hair was stiff and creaking, as if frozen. “You are being detoxicated, when you’ll get out you’ll feel better.”


“But now let’s talk about more important questions: this is our environment, where we live; in that direction there are the youngsters; in this moment they are inside a kind of class room, where they are studying.” “May we see them?” “Yes, but secretly; we do not want to frighten them, because what they know about terrestrials is no good news. They think of you as if some kind of wild beasts.”


We went near, quietly. He pushed a kind of a button, and a small screen appeared over the outside wall, a white square 50 cm in side, and an image appeared over it; I was able to see inside the room; it was some 50 meters long, I cannot say how wide, because I could not see its sides. It was as if there was a video camera in action inside the room, a camera that could change its bearings, and could move by itself. This way I was being shown the so-called youngsters. “How tall are they?” “Two meters thirty, two meters forty, even two and a half.” “And they are young!” “For us they are boys; someone is 15, some is 30, another one is 95 years old. Biological growth to us is slower than yours, but achievements are quicker.”. I saw that some of them were wearing a big cap, similar to the drier our women use while at the hair-stylist, and asked what was the use of it. “It’s used to increase mental capabilities, but not in an artificial way, we would never do such a thing; rather, it gives a benevolent solicitation to their nervous system, and in the mean time it detoxicates them. Intoxication prevents the full evolution of men; would you remain fasting, or would you feed in a different way (unfortunately we behave largely as you do), things would be better.”


Many of them had short hair, as our German boys, a stiff hair; they were showing a benevolent countenance; some had brown eyes, other very light colored, green, blue eyes. They were of different races, and I was told that there are actually many different people, but that in most cases only their morphologies are different, not their biologic functions, and that, of course, differences exist also among men belonging to the same race.


“So these boys are already at a scientist level.” “Yes, but we take care much more of moral aspects, because they get in touch with powerful weapons, and if they were not provided with a strong ethical attitude, they could make great damages. This same ethical attitude we have imposed to our instruments, even to our weapons; if you would try to use them to do harm, they would not work, or even they would disintegrate themselves.”


We walked further on; I was thinking of what we had been told, of their willingness to act only for the good, and was feeling compelled to let everybody know about them; Sinas, who was leaning against a kind of column, told me “No, you cannot do what you think; do not let what you have seen known outside, you would engage in very distasteful situations.” “I haven’t told you anything” “Yes, but you have thought about it!”


Later on, we were offered a drink, a very pleasant one, like a lemon-squash in color, but with a different taste. “It is not lemon, nor is it synthetic; it’s a squash of our fruits, and it does much good; men and animals may drink it, and even vegetables; if a plant is not so good, just pour some drops of this drink on it, and you’ll see it recover quickly.” I said “Fine, let me take away some of it.” “No, out of here it doesn’t work, because this drink has the virtue of detoxicating, without any side effect, but it gets quickly intoxicated itself by external agents.”


Later on we entered a large, circular room; on the top of it, something like a carousel: lights of every color and shape were revolving around over its ceiling. “Well, we are just cleaning up. Those lights are our cleaning operators. Don’t worry, now I’ll switch them off.” He put his hand inside his pocket, and the lights disappeared; now the ceiling was a single, compact, crystal mass. I can’t say, because it was not transparent, nor was it opaque; it was neither. We remained there, speaking with persons that I didn’t know, then Sajù appeared far away. He was like chili pepper, he was to be found everywhere (Author: this remark refers to the Italian habit of making a large use of chili pepper in cooking). I heard his crispy voice, I asked “Is there Sajù?”, and “Yes, he is everywhere”, I was answered.


I do not remember if I had already taken Dimpietro to this base from Forlimpopoli, probably not. By the way, did I tell you about the car that was running without touching the road with its wheels? The car that was able to take off, fly for a while, then land again unto the road. One time we went to take Dimpietro with that peculiar car.


Probably Dimpietro was not inside the base, that day, because I remember that our friends were telling that he was to come within some days. “When Dimpietro will come – they were saying – our organization will start to operate, in the way it has been stated. Do you see that machine up there?” It looked like one of our electronic device, full of buttons, lights, screens and the like. “No – he said – it is not an electronic device; it is very different from yours. It is not a file storage, nor a memory. If you look inside it, you’ll see it’s empty, but it contains a load of energy that will suffice to us during a whole year.”. He opened its cover, and inside there was a screen, and over it a wide light was moving, without making any noise; it was a light, a dark green one, but it was as if there was some matter in it, may be one could even touch it. It was like a boiling broth. “This is energy at its initial state, it may be transformed into solid energy, or into even more subtle energy. And this depends upon this small instrument near by.” He showed me a small circular knob, with light marks on its periphery. I was not able to understand what it was. “You see, if you touch that knob in some point, it will select the kind and the amount of energy you require, then it will distribute it wherever you like, inside this base.” “How can it be done?” “Look” He opened a door, and a kind of a map was there. “If we have to send a certain amount to energy towards a certain place, I select the destination this way.” In some way he selected a place, and a very strong bluish line appeared on the screen, the it disappeared. “I have charged with energy that place, and it will be enough for seven, eight of your days.”


“But, tell me, do you eat?” We had asked this question other times, but had not understood their answers. “Of course we do eat – he told me this time – only, usually, we do not eat your kind of meals.” He took me inside another room, where there were many stools, around a table, and an altar on the far wall; do you remember the refectories of friars? Actually this room was different, but had this kind of appearance, because I was told that our friends collect into this room to have lunch, or dinner; they sit around this table, and eat without speaking. Giancarlo usually would speak a lot while eating, so I told him “Giancarlo, you cannot sit here, because they will throw you away as soon as you utter anything.” They at first sit there, and pray. They are used to pray, they pray in full sincerity; their prayers are not just a mystic instrument, they are able to get energy from this activity. Then they all look at a specific point on the altar, and this point starts to light up, and they wait until this point reaches its maximum of light. They told me that during this process, this point grows also in dimensions, and at a certain moment it develops a ring, like Saturn, then this ring starts to pulsate, and that’s the sign that it’s enough. “For us it is a good practice, because while we are praying, and filling the environment with our psychic energy, we wake up other forces, and in the meantime we awake also ourselves; in those moments we are like drunken people. Energy may hurt, but to us it is good.”


We had arrived to the end of the base. Now I remember that Dimpietro had already been there, and had got out. I remember that, because, in a small room, I saw a Moka (Author: it is a typical coffee-pot brand, widely spread in Italy), and they told me that Dimpietro was very fond of using it to prepare his own coffee. He liked very much Italian coffee, but also Italian food, wines and spirits, may be even too much. In his room there was this Moka, a set of small coffee cups, and many other things typical of our environment, because, I was to learn, Dimpietro liked very much the Italian way of life. In his cubicle, I saw also a very little plant inside a glass, without any water, and I told my friend that that small plant was going to die. “Touch it”. I did, and a great many tiny specks of light aroused around this little being. “It may live this way for years.” These very little things were playing an important role in their civilization; moreover, there was much of our culture in their environment, and their technique was never deprived of human factors. They put their moral in front of their technique, while here we do just the opposite.


Then we got out of the base; it was 3 a. m., and over our heads there was a very clear sky full of stars. I exclaimed to Giancarlo: “Look, stars are still there!”. “Why, what did you fear?” Giancarlo was not so much upset, because he was wandering how to transform into patents something of what we had seen. Our friends were usually very amused with this peculiar habit of Giancarlo; he has been one of my closest friends.


Any way, we had got out at night, and went looking for the FIAT 600 that had been left there, and we did not find it. “Look, we have been robbed” I said, and our friends told us: “Don’t worry, your car has been sent back to Giulio, who was needing it, and you are going to use our own car (13).” It was really a problem, because I had a driving license, but I have never liked to drive; I like motor-cycles, but I have never been used to drive a car; so it has been Giancarlo to drive our friends’ car down to Pescara. When we arrived home, we remained there several hours discussing about our experience; the I realized that I was very hungry, and said to Giancarlo “Please, let’s go somewhere to eat something.” Giancarlo told me that he was all right, because, when starting from Pescara, he had taken a mortadella sandwich with him. “You have eaten a sandwich inside the base?” “Sure, was I to die of starvation?” This kind of guy was Giancarlo.


So we went to have lunch in a restaurant near to the sea shore, at Dino’s. After lunch we went to the sea, and took a very long walk, first up to the harbour, then in the opposite direction, towards the North, up to Santa Filomena (14), then back again. At the end, it was night again. Hopefully it was a Saturday, so the next day Giancarlo had not to go to work.


Next day we met, together with Giulio, who was very upset in learning that we had been inside the base, without him. At first, he did not even believe us, thinking that it was a joke.


During 1957 we continued to meet our friends. In that year, Giulio had to move to southern America because of his job. Giancarlo and I were travelling frequently to Ascoli Piceno, but also to Como and to the Cadore, where they had opened some new bases. By pure chance, the owner of the timber  warehouse in front of me was having commercial relationships with that region, because he was buying there his wood.


One night we had to go to Ascoli Piceno; as I was not driving, I asked a relative of mine to carry us there, and to wait some hours, to take then us back. That night we were admitted again into the base. When we were inside, our friends told us that we were to remain there until next day. “That’s impossible; I have a rendezvous with a friend within a couple of hours.” “Don’t worry. We will fix the problem.”


When a few days later I saw again that relative of mine, he told me that he had been waiting for us in the Meletti coffee-house in Ascoli Piceno, and that, at a certain moment, he saw a waiter who was going around announcing a phone call pending for him; he went to the telephone, and heard me (better to say, he heard my voice) telling him that there was no longer use for him to wait, because I would get back by myself the next day. So, he returned home alone. What a trick!


Next day, when we got out, my mind was in a strange attitude, thinking back to what had happened, but without stopping on single memories, as if refusing to admit as a reality what it was remembering. May be a psychologist could be able to understand this situation. We had been instructed to take a public bus to re-enter to Pescara, and had been told where to take it, how long the trip would have been, the cost of the ticket, and so on: our friends were aware of the transport facilities better than us! We arrived at half past eleven; Giancarlo at that time had no job, and was alone, because his family had gone to pay a visit to some relatives, so I went with him to keep him company; in the evening we went back to my place, had dinner, and remained talking.


About two a.m. we were sitting in the balcony, and a red cat joined us; it was an old acquaintance of ours, we had named it Miciolone (Author: something like “good, big cat”); it used to present itself in the strangest hours, very often skinned, with evident signs of fights against other cats; I remember that once it was so badly reduced that we had to take it to a chemist, and have it disinfected and bandaged, at the astonishment of the chemist, who was not used to take care of pets in the full of the night! Another time, I went out in the morning, leaving Miciolone in a nearby field; Franco, my nephew, who was living with me those days, told me that he had been watching the whole morning Miciolone, head to head with another cat; they were pushing each other, as if they were two bulls, and went on until after noon, when a lorry entered the field, and they were forced to flee away. It was a tremendous beast, but at the same time a very affectionate friend. When Dik grew older, the dog was standing the cat, but Miciolone had not to get too near to Dik, to avoid being barked at.


From time to time we were allowed to take some picture, either of our friends, or of their ships.


Dimpietro once told us “Look, now the CTR’s are doing something, they are trying to hit us. Be very careful, and do exactly what you are told to do. The worst damage would be if they take catch of your mind. They are able to do so, it’s quite easy to them; but if the mind reacts, opposes, nothing happens; if the mind doesn’t react, it’s done.” “Is that all?” we thought; it looked too easy. I would rather have applied to the mental defenses I had become used to, thanks to my long practice of Yoga techniques, but he told me it was not necessary, it was sufficient to exert one’s will, and to be conscious of it (15). Giancarlo was always over-reacting in a striking way, and in this case he did as usual. We started noticing that, every time we went outdoors, two guys would be shadowing us, one walking before us, the other behind, thirty, forty meters away. It was always the same two men. “Look – our friends told us – these two men are almost mechanical; they are still men, but have been left with very little of their minds. They are under the power of electronic devices that control them, therefore do no try to harm them, because they are not guilty of what they do. Any way have no fear of them, because they are harmless; their job consists only in sending back their sensations, their feelings, so that their controllers are able to monitor the environment where they are. If you want do deceive them, show that you are engaged in a meaningless activity; they will try to get near, but they will not be able to understand anything; in the meanwhile, it will be easier for us to manage the situation”. We did so; at once, we started reminding each other that we had to go to the sea shore, to look for certain metals our friends had left there for us; when we arrived to the place, the two guys were already there, waiting for us! We were pretending to haven’t noticed them, and to be engaged in some mysterious activity, after what they disappeared, walking in different directions.


In those days, I still had my motor-bike, so I jumped on it, and went to the pursuit of one of these men, shadowing him from a distance; when he turned around a corner, I gave a short burst of gas, so I got there within a split second, but he was no longer to be found anywhere. It was very late at night, and the road had only closed shops on each side, so that the man had no place where to escape; nevertheless, he was gone!


In the country around Montesilvano, one night an hydra appeared (Author: “Hydra” is the name they were giving to such entities), a gigantic being, that was howling loud; it was very tall, like a building, and was shouting; there was a acid stench all around, and it was difficult for us to breathe; we had a long copper chain with us, that we had been told in advance to build. “Grasp the chain!” they told us, and in that moment we heard a crash, we felt an indescribable stench, and we heard a yell, you can’t imagine how strong it was, may be the shout of a stricken dinosaur. Any way, there was something human in it (16). And the hydra disappeared. We were astonished, unable to speak, considering what had just gone on. Raffaella, my wife, had remained at home, not far from there, sleeping with the young son of Carla, one of the ladies. She remembers that in the very moment the hydra disappeared, she felt our house trembling, as because of an earthquake. After some seconds, everybody started to talk: “Have you seen it?” “What was it?”. I told them “Not only we have seen it, we have also heard it; it is strange that nobody in the surroundings has even realized what happened”. We could still see something like a cloud that was being absorbed slowly, very slowly, by the ground, like a kind of fog; and there was still a smell somewhere between ammonia and muriatic acid; and a foam was boiling over the ground. “Please allow us some ten minutes to finish our job; do not walk over that foam, because it could burn your feet”. We remained silent, there were seven of us looking at that show. Strangely enough, the place was desert, there was nobody, but us. And yet the shoot had been extremely strong, like a hooter, and the being had been very tall. Yet, apparently, nobody had been awaken. “Had we not be able to kill this being – they told us – within some ten days it was to destroy every kind of life all over your Earth” (17). I had been stricken by that experience, if I were able to paint, I’d like to paint what I remember. It was night, there was no moon, and we were in the middle of the country, West of Montesilvano; now, in that area, many houses have been built, but at that time there was none, just bare ground; to get there we had been walking among earth clods. All of a sudden we saw this entity swelling itself from the ground; it looked like the tar used in roads paving, a smooth and shining tar that was moving, winding as fishes do, and inflating itself. And it became as tall as a building, yet nobody appeared to have noticed it, to my amazement. “How can it be?” I asked myself, and was answered “We avoided that the sound waves could propagate around, so that nobody has heard anything. Otherwise, the people from the village would have gathered here, all of them”. But we have heard it, we were some 50 meters away.


Often they told us that they were needing food and vitamins, in great quantity. They told us to rent a truck and a trailer, to fill it with these goods, and to take it to Pineto, “so that we may unload it”. I said it would have been a problem: how could they unload a truck, in front of its driver and eventual by-standers? “It’s up to you to find a way” I was answered. We had always to find tricks to welcome their requests. I had to organize several transports like this first one, changing every time trucks and drivers. Once I choose a man from Foggia; I had bought two tons of fruits, because they had asked fruits (other times fish, never meat, because they would never kill or eat animals). Usually, but not always, they would take care of the payment, sending us the necessary money. I had asked how could they find Italian money, and was told that they had a special device, able to collect all the lost coins and notes, everywhere, all over Europe!


Another time, they sent us platinum ingots! That stupid man named Paolo (18) (who was later to leave the group) said, in that circumstance, that it was a kind of devilish situation, you see how twisted the human mind may be. It doesn’t see what it doesn’t want to believe. That time, we were in the garden of my “Green” villa, the one you know well, and the ingots had actually fallen from the open sky, so that we all were engaged in the task of collecting them from the ground. On the other side of the street (Europa avenue, in Montesilvano), a man was standing at his balcony, and I was wondering whether he could understand what was going on. We collected 10 boxes of ingots, about 150 kg of platinum altogether, you know, this metal is very heavy. Now we had the problem of selling them. In Milano there was our friend Emilio, who was working in the field of jewellery-making (his grand father had been a famous jeweller in Milano). He said that he knew a wholesaler of precious metals, and so we had been able to sell the ingots, strangely enough without any serious problem, without even being questioned about where they were coming from.


So we had been able to buy large quantity of different kinds of fruits, and charged two trucks with them. The lorries stopped in a pine-wood at the outskirts of Pineto, and then there was the problem of unloading them; of course, our friends were to do the job, via tele-transporting the fruits away, but how would the two drivers react at seeing their trucks all of a sudden deprived of their load? So I invited them to have a drink in a near-by coffee house, telling them that in the meantime some workers were to come and unload the trucks. We walked, very slowly, to the coffee house, and I was trying to waste as much time as possible. When we got back, the first lorry had already been unloaded, while the process was still going on the second one, a truck and a trailer: when we were some 30 meters away, all of a sudden we saw it jerking, because of its sudden reduction in weight, but hopefully I was able to persuade the drivers that it had been just an optical illusion! Then, when we arrived to the trucks, and found them totally empty, the two drivers praised the skill of the mysterious workers who had done so good a job in so short a time!


Another time we were again asked to send them great quantities of fruit: 5 tons of fresh fruit and 5 tons of dried figs; these latter I got from a wholesaler from Puglia (Author: Southern Italy), while I had to look around to find where could I buy so much fresh fruit; and again I found a person from Puglia, a Mr. Ronzoni; unfortunately he had not so large a truck, so I had also to find a lorry for the transportation. I paid in advance half of the bill, and told the driver to take the fruit to Pineto, on the start of the road going to Mutignano (Author: An even smaller village), where we would have been waiting for them.


While Giancarlo, I and a third person were waiting, we got a message from our friends: they were pointing to a specific place on the ground, near to our position, and stating that there they were to send us the money to complete the payment. Then Sigir said “Now”, and on the instant a box appeared on the ground (19). I have been present at such performances many times, but I never got used to them, to see an object appearing all of a sudden, coming from nowhere. The trucks were to arrive shortly later, and Giancarlo was very puzzled, because there were just the three of us, and no worker to unload the trucks; actually our friends had told us not to worry, because this was to be their job, but how would the drivers react while looking at such an unusual event?


When the trucks arrived, their drivers were a bit surprised to find no workers waiting for them; I told them than shortly five smaller vans were to come, with the necessary workers, and I proposed them to go, in the meantime, to a restaurant not so far away, to have some coffee; they accepted, so we left, leaving Giancarlo to take care of the operations; I told him to reach us when everything was over.


We sat at a table, and I was disappointed because from that place I was not able to see what was going on, there were some trees in between. I offered the drivers a small meal; from one side, they were badly needing a square meal, but at the same time they were eager to leave, because their next stop was in the Northern Italy, a rather long trip; hopefully, one of them started talking, telling me of some experiences he had had during the war, in the Pineto area, and I pressed him to continue his tale, asking for more and more details; we spent more than half an hour listening to the driver.


I told them that probably it was time to get back, although I wasn’t sure at all about what had taken place in the meantime; they were a bit reluctant, saying that too short a time had elapsed, and that unloading was a long process. “Don’t worry, the workers I have enlisted are a clever gang, I am sure the job is over”. Indeed I was sure of nothing, but I was feeling urged to get back.


When we arrived to the trucks, we were met by a rather furious Giancarlo, who had got tired to wait for our return: “The job has been finished long ago!” I had told him to reach us after the unloading, but in all evidence he had forgotten, and got nervous while waiting for us; any way we found very clean surroundings: not a trace on the ground, even the inside of the trucks were looking as if polished. Only a vague smell of bergamots, citrons and lemons could be felt in the air. The drivers were astonished, they had never seen such a perfect job by a team of workers, and were praising how swift and clean they had been; of course, I too was praising these phantom workers!


On the average, I had to arrange such a play a couple of times each month, always with the same problems, the invisible unloading, the necessity to take the drivers away from the place, and so on; hopefully, everything always worked.


I was starting to get reputed as a kind of an queer wizard, because of my unusual behaviour, and was worrying for that, but my friends told me not to care too much. But also the persons nearest to me at times were showing strange attitudes towards me. Think for instance to Alberto, that drunkard (Author: This gentleman, Alberto Perego, had been an Italian diplomat all around the world); usually he would stand spirits for a while, but all of a sudden he would get totally drunk. Imagine that one night we were in the green room of my house in Pescara; there were Giancarlo, Giulio, somebody else, and Alberto; he had been my guest since some days before, but that night he was a bit over-excited; he started stating that he wanted to ask our friends several questions, and wondered how they were to answer them, because he would not accept a telepathic communication. A small sheet of paper felt from the ceiling, on it there was written “You have just to think at your questions, and we will answer in this way”. Alberto thought that it was a trick from my part, and I was going to get furious for that suspect. He was a bit drunk, and told me to stop playing tricks; we almost came to blows, then he got quiet again. Then he went on “Let them amuse themselves”, and started thinking of a lot of different questions. Within less than half an hour, the table was covered by hundreds and hundreds of sheets of paper, of different kinds, apparently torn away in a great hurry from larger sheets, and on them there were written the answers, in red ink, with an hasty handwriting. Alberto was astonished, and we too.


But in general, his attitude towards us was twofold: at times he was depicting me as a kind of a genius, other times as a cheat. He was a strange guy: do you remember that time when he was driving, totally drunk, and while turning. one of the wheels of his car went lost? Any way, he was not enjoying an happy life, had divorced from his wife, and was living alone in his house in Ruggero Fauro street, in Rome, with his daughter coming at times to pay him a visit.


In 1958, our friends had told me that there was also a base of theirs in Australia, a very little one, with very few persons inside, also four terrestrials with them; among these latter, there was a Henry Ford, of course not the famous Henry Ford; this gentleman was a German, to be exact his mother was German, his father was American. Any way, our friends were rather reticent on this subject; once Giancarlo tried to be insistent, and was answered “That’s none of your business!”


Things were going on as usual; there was a villa on the sea shore, its name was Villa De Riseis, and beneath it there was a little base, and Sigir used to get out from there, at night, and we went strolling along the beach, together with Giancarlo; Sigir was a little more than 2 meters high, so that he could be mistaken for a terrestrial, for a basket player; and he was looking intensely at the sea, especially if there was the moon in the sky; there was a definite romanticism in that, not a romanticism towards women, but to the nature itself; he was saying that the nature was an epitome of the beauty of the Father, because he was very religious, but in a simple and natural way, without useless postures.


At the end of the 50’s, Giulio had left Italy to work in Southern America; so only the two of us were remaining, Giancarlo and I; there were occasionally other people, whose name I do not even remember. Once two men came to us, a physician from Sulmona, and a lawyer from Lanciano; they saw a lot of things, and were as lucky as to enter the base under Pineto, and to stay there for one hour and a half. When they got out, they were unable to utter a word; “Now we cannot say that it is not true, but if we say that it’s true, nobody is going to believe us. Now we can’t get back.” It was late autumn, they had entered late in the afternoon, and got out when night was coming. One was saying: “I told you that it was true”, and the other “I told you that, were it true, that was going to ruin us, because now how can we live? We have a family, we have a job.” Of course, these were egocentric discussions, instead of thinking of what they had learnt, what they had seen. Late at night they went away on their sport car. They had left us their telephone numbers, but insisted that we were not to speak of such topics by phone. “Usually it is my wife to answer the phone” said the lawyer; the other said “How to speak of such things by phone? By the way, my wife is never at home, because she owns a shop.” They had promised to get back the next week, but they did not.


A few days after the miss, Giancarlo asked me what they were doing, and I decided to call them by phone. First, we called the physician, a woman answered in a shrill voice: “Are you by chance one of those who have hypnotized my husband?” “I have hypnotized nobody.” “So, what do you want from my husband?” “Madam, the tone of your voice is out of place; please let me speak with your husband.” “No, you must leave my husband in peace.” and she shut off. We tried to call the other one, but nobody was answering. So, we decided to go to Lanciano to meet the lawyer. We found his office, but his secretary told us he was not in. “Fine, we are going to get back within half an hour.” “No, he will not be back in so short a time.” Just near to his office there was a coffee-shop; we went there, looking at the street through its windows; after a while, Giancarlo went back to the office, pretending to be a customer, and was welcomed by the secretary, who told him to wait just a few minutes; so Giancarlo, through a window, waved at me, I came back, and he opened me the door. When the lawyer saw the both of us, he told us that a real catastrophe had happened to them; they had decided to tell the story first to one wife, then to the other, but both times being together; they had started with the lawyer’s wife, and she had reacted in a furious way; she assaulted them, then, the day after, went to the police, pretending that her husband had been hypnotized by persons who had him seeing untrue things, for some unknown reason, but probably not a honest one. “You only look as two men – I told them – but you are not; you are just two entirely dominated persons; your wife is hysteric, a greedy woman. Farewell.” We never met again.


As time went by, I told Giancarlo that I was tired of such situations: “I am looked at as an hypnotist, you as my assistant; it is like a theatre piece, that could have been written by De Filippo (Author: A famous Italian comedy-writer). Please, do not accept anybody else into our group.”


Later on, we had to go again to Ascoli, because we had to meet some newcomers; from eleven o’clock at night we remained waiting outside Rocca Pia; it was winter, it was raining, and we could not find a way to stay comfortable; for a while, we took turns, one of us sitting inside the car, the other waiting near to the castle; at half past three, we saw a brilliant light, but it was a strange light: it was a solid light cylinder, a couple of meters wide, and may be three meters high; strangely enough, this light was not illuminating around, around it all was as dark as before. When later on I asked our friends about this peculiar light, they were joking at me: “Haven’t you yet understood?”


All of a sudden, a person rose inside this cylinder, and got out; then another one did the same; at the end, four of them had got out. When such things were occurring, I was feeling uncomfortable, and Giancarlo was doing the same; only, he was recovering immediately; I have always envied him for his ability; my peculiar attitude was different: I was always studying myself, studying what was going on, to get sure that I was not dreaming. You know, in front of such things never seen before, almost unbelievable things, you tend to switch between reality and daydream, at times you believe you are just dreaming, and you have to convince yourself that it is true. Any way, we cheered these four persons, and they told us that they were to leave after a couple of weeks, and would get back one year later “when you’ll live in Milano”. Actually, there was a vague plot for me to move to Milano, but at that moment nothing was for certain. We remained a long while discussing; in particular, they wanted to get sure that we had really understood who they were, that there was no terrestrial origin in them. Actually I have had such an idea many times, during the first years, but then I was forced to convince myself that it was not possible. We remained there until dawn; when the sun rose, we said good bye each other; Giancarlo said that he was willing to get into the base with them, but they said “No, it is up to us to decide when you may get down; then you may stay as long as you like; but now it would be dangerous to you to get down, so forget about it.”


It was no longer raining; there were stars still visible in the morning sky. Giancarlo told me that he had a sandwich in the car, and he went to eat it. I got a coffee at the Meletti bar, that had just opened, then we returned home.


Giulio was not with us in those days; he was traveling through Italy because of his job; in that time, he was negotiating with Dalmine (Author: One of the major Italian steel companies) because he was needing a great quantity of steel pipes. Before he left, we met, and we talked at length about what we had experienced. He had seen a lot of things: objects that were “taken” by our friends (that is, disintegrated in order to be transferred inside their base), or things that were brought (the inverse process). He was not willing to move, but I told him that it was necessary, if his company would pay him enough for that. So he left. The two of us were sad, even Giancarlo, although he had often quarreled with Giulio. Moreover, we were left with no car, because up to then we had almost always made use of his car.


Things went on. The contact was going on, it was a beauty; very often they were saying us: “You see, my friends, if you do not know the alphabet, how can I teach you the language? I may do my best, but there are things that I cannot explain you, simply because you are too ignorant. Up to a certain level, it may be done, but beyond that it is simply impossible”. “That is not so important – I was answering them – you presence here, these contacts, are more than enough for me.”


The Milano schedule was approaching; I had asked my sister, who already had a job in that town, to find me an apartment, and she had succeeded. So my wife and I started to collect our things, to buy some furniture, to start our new life in Milano. Our new apartment was in the San Siro area, because our friends had specifically stated so. At first, we had problems with our two sons, because they didn’t like the new place, and were always arguing with their new acquaintances.


So, by now, the Milano stories were starting; in the San Siro area, near to the ring-road, there was an entrance to an underground base; it was on the top of a very low hill, and I was often going there to meet our friends. Giancarlo had got a job in Rome, and usually would come to Milano during week ends; therefore, most of the times, I was alone in my contacts with our friends. Any way, on a Sunday, we were supposed to get together to Como (a town some 50 kilometers North of Milano, on the shores of the lake that has this same name); I phoned one of my relatives, who was living in that area, and asked him to drive us to our destination; to my surprise, he answered that the place where we had to go was very near to his house! In that area, on the lake’s shore, there is an ancient villa by Palladio (Author: He is a famous Italian architect of the XVI century), the house is almost desert, may be only its keeper lives there. In front of this villa, some steps go down under the level of the lake’s waters.


As in the famous De Mille movie about the Bible, the waters spread away, and a couple of our friends came out. We remained talking for more than one hour; by the way, they listed to us the items we were supposed to supply them; and at the end of the meeting, they gave me a small object, some 20 cm long and may be 15 wide, and told me to take it home, telling me that thanks to this device I would be able to get in touch with them whenever I’d liked to. Its surface was flat and dull, but, approaching an hand, four buttons were to appear; one was to tell our friends that I wanted to communicate with them, another to establish the link, a third one was some kind of an alarm, and now I do not remember the use of the fourth button; taking the hand away, they would disappear.


Many times I met Sigir, Meredir, who was everywhere, and was always escorting Sigir; also Dimpietro was there, in the northern area of the base, so that to find him I had to use a different entrance; he was living by himself; his room was very wide, but not so high, so that the head of Dimpietro was at a scarce half meter from the ceiling; there was a large table, full of different lights, in total silence; Dimpietro told me that it was a device that allowed him to manage all the facilities, and all the people, inside the base. He also told me that they were not afraid of the great amount of waters over their heads; on the contrary, they were worried by the fact that very often on the shore happenings were taking place, with a lot of people attending, so that it was often difficult to them to get out and back, least could they be noticed. Moreover, in the Como lake there is a seaplane station, with planes flying around at all times.


The winter passed, now we were in 1961. On a Sunday Giancarlo got back from Rome, and told me that he had met a young man from Turin, and that I could be able to see him the next Monday on the TV, because he was conducting a transmission for youngsters about model aircrafts; he was a very good and very intelligent guy, Giancarlo told me, he was also a journalist, writing in a pleasant manner, usually about technologies, aviation, modelling, and the like. By the way, he too was named Bruno.


I looked at the broadcast, I liked this man, and told Giancarlo to invite him to my home; you see, when things have to go in a certain way, before or later they will arrange to do so. I met this man, we had lunch together, and I started telling him what was going on, to his extreme astonishment; he was then accepted into our group, and started sharing our experiences; when he was in Pescara or in Milano he usually slept in my home.


He made recordings of some of the speeches of our friends, and had them listened to here and there, and started writing articles on this subject. Our friends told him that he had better to stop, or at least to pay great attention, because most of the people do not like to accept this reality, and so he was going to forfeit his prestige. Actually, he was pressed by many publishing firms, Mondadori and Rizzoli (Author: Two of the major Italian publishers) among them, whose managers has seen our pictures and had understood that the matter was an important one; the director of the newspaper “Il Tempo” asked Bruno to write one article a day, during a whole year, on the subject; at first Bruno tried to refuse “How can I? This phenomenon does not depend on me”, but the director answered “It’s up to you. Just find the way!” I did not like this demand, so I forbade Bruno to write anything about our experiences, because I didn’t want they to be exposed to the meanness of people. Any way, Bruno ran his daily rubric writing of general UFOlogy, without quoting most of our cases.


Now we are at the beginning of 1962. We were always making long walks, often along the sea shore, and I found out that my friends were looking at me as if I were a saint, a prophet, and I didn’t like that at all. Also my dog, walking at my side, usually was forcing its head up to look at me, and listen to my talks! It is true that while I was telling what I had learnt from our friends, I often got so engaged in the process, that I was not even realizing what was happening around me; once, I remember, while walking and talking along the sea shore, I entered the waters, and continued walking, without noticing that my legs were wet; Giancarlo then stopped me, crying “Do you want to do like Jesus Christ, and walk over the waters?”


Giulio was no longer with us, and we had a large interaction with him via mail, telling him what was going on; at a moment, he told us that probably he was to get back, because his business there was going to settle, that he would have liked to get back any way, in order to get again in touch with our friends.


Once we were told that we had to meet Siderius, one of the W56’s about whom they had talked to us a lot; he was something in between a scientist and a philosopher; we had never met him before, so that was an important occasion. Three or four days in advance, Sigir, Itaho, Marius and all the others, were speaking about this occurrence. One night, all of us were eating pizza, together with Dimpietro, who, as usual, was joking and mocking at everybody; great men are enlightened with the gift of a true witticism; we were discussing about what was to be done. It looked that Siderius was to arrive at half past two in the morning, and we were to meet him in a secluded place along the banks of the Pescara river. Giancarlo was very excited. All of us, both the W56’s and us, tried our best to find a way among the vegetation and the walls that are present along the banks; you may imagine that doing such a thing at night was not an easy task. Any way, we succeeded in getting to the desired spot, just on schedule, and we saw a white sphere, some 20 cm in diameter, suspended in the dark; Giancarlo at first thought it was the lamp of some fisherman, but, as we got near, the sphere disappeared, and we saw Siderius, and two other persons, sitting in the dark waiting for us. At first, we went back to the sea shore, where we had parked our car, then Siderius said that we had to go at once to Ascoli Piceno. It was not an easy task, because there were nine of us, three of which were extremely tall, and it was not so easy to put everybody inside our car! Hopefully, they had also their cars, so that, in a way or another, we were able to go to Ascoli. When we got to Rocca Pia, we entered the base (to me, it was the fourth time), we went down, and entered a new room, that I had not seen before, and got seated around a table, on some kind of cubic chairs, without a back.


We were offered some kind of sweets, that Giancarlo refused because, he said, they were dangerous to his teeth; then Dimpietro ordered pizzas for everybody! To our astonishment, he told us that he had read many culinary books from almost every European and African culture, so he had taught his fellows to cook whatever he liked. While eating we have been speaking at length; Siderius spoke a perfect Italian; when we speak our language, usually we force it in a way or another, we add a bit of vernacular; on the contrary, his language was really perfect. He spoke in a calm and regular way, as if he had learnt by heart what he was to tell us; he spoke about the universe, about the invisible worlds, that are finer than the visible one, about death, saying that one must get ready to death, instead than life, because life goes by, while death arrives to everybody. He spoke about the CTR’s, and, from time to time, he was addressing his fellows in their own language, but he always asked us the permission in advance. At a moment it looked as if he and Dimpietro had something they were not agreeing upon. I told my friends “What, they too do quarrel?” But there was no real quarrel, just a kind of tense interchange. Giancarlo said “No, that’s just Dimpietro who has got drunk, and now utters rubbish!” Of course that was not the case, I have never seen Dimpietro drunk. Any way, we had not been able to understand what was the matter. The situation settled itself quickly, and after a while we were told that we had to get back home. They greeted each other putting their arms around the other’s neck, then all of them did the same with us: “Do you understand how much do we love you?” Dimpietro said.


It was a quarter past four. We had left our car in Pescara, and so they told us that we were to be taken there in a car of theirs, driven by one of them I had never seen before. “Do not try to speak to your driver – Dimpietro told us – because he will be deaf, dumb and blind; he sees, hears, and speaks quite well, but he has been instructed to behave this way.” So the two of us, plus our driver, got out, entered a car parked not so far, and started our way back. Actually the driver was very strange: he was looking directly in front of him, not trying to interact with us in any way; he was driving calmly, not too quick, in a rather pleasant way. Giancarlo and I were asking ourselves whether he was an actual person, or a biological robot; at a moment Giancarlo told me that he was going to prick him with a needle to see what would happen, but I prevented him from doing so. Any way, we arrived to my home; before getting out I said him good-bye, and he just nodded.


When I went to stay in Milano, Bruno, the journalist, moved there his activity, in order to stay near to me, actually living in my home. Also other people were getting in touch with us, thanks to the papers written by Bruno. But I always reserved me the right to chose whether or not to accept anybody. Among this people there was Gaspare, his wife, his mother-in-law, who at that time was already over eighty, and an old gentleman, Nino, who was the second husband of his mother, and the son of Gaspare. Gaspare was a painter, a short guy, very witty; at times, he was also giving tennis lessons; his wife was a rather tall woman. Later on Emilio joined us; we had nicknamed him “Seghè” (Author: That’s an almost untranslatable expression in Milanese vernacular, meaning, roughly, “What’s that?”); other people arrived and were sent away, because I felt that they would be of no use to us, so I excluded them, and obviously, they started venting their spleen at us after that.


One afternoon, a couple of flying saucers appeared over Milano. Our friends had told me in advance of this flight, so I had asked the permission to take some pictures. We went to a terrace on the top of a building in Giulio Cesare square, and I was able to snap my pictures, that were also published on some newspapers, because especially one of them was very clear, with Milano skyscrapers in the background, and the disks directly over them. Many of us were looking through binoculars, although one of them, when the sightings was over, pretended that the saucers were simply some high flying birds. For many of them it was the first time they had sighted a flying saucers, so they were a bit upset.


A couple of years went away. Gaspare and his family at first were living in Giulio Cesare square; then he bought a new house on the shore of Como lake. During summer, they used to come to Montesilvano to spent the holidays with me. In summer we were often going to Pineto or to Ascoli to get in touch with our friends, or were receiving messages, either telepathically, or via radio sets. Carla, the wife of Seghè was affected by an almost lethal blood disease, hemophilia or something like that; she was very pale; her physician was not able to solve this problem, so that at a moment Sigir decided to use their capabilities; he told her: “My daughter, we are not able to act this way on everybody, nor are we sure to meet always a success; nevertheless, I have studied your problem, and I am sure that I am able to cure you in two, three days.” The lady started to cry, you know, when all of a sudden an help comes for an apparently unrecoverable situation, you get really upset. She was asking me “Is it true that he is going to cure me?” “I have seen that so many times he has done so, therefore don’t worry.” Very often, ill people were cured without even having being aware, so they looked to be recovering by a miracle. Of course, our friends did not want that this capability were widely known, and so they usually were acting on a secret base, elsewhere I was to expect a queue of ill people in front of my apartment; actually, at a moment, I thought to make a business on that, but I rejected this idea almost immediately, and my wife, even now, reproaches me for that: we have always been in a keen want for money, and I could have earned some money from this business, had I entered it; unfortunately, I didn’t. Any way, Seghè’s wife recovered, and I still have an audio tape from which you may hear her crying, and thanking Sigir for what he had one. Every time there was a contact with Sigir, and Carla was attending, she always was bursting into tears, so that once I told her to stop, or else she was going to flood my apartment!


Later on Emilio got a problem with Carla; one day Sigir called her, and scolded her harshly; from that moment, she got very angry with our friends. So the peace within our group was starting to disappear. Another time, a couple of brothers, both working in a bank, and both very short, stole from my desk an audio tape, and a film; I was very worried, but Sigir told me to be quiet, because the CTR’s had tampered with the film by far away, and now it was useless: in its original form, it was showing a couple of flying saucers moving in the sky, and passing behind some chimneys; after the tampering, the disks were appearing in front of them, between the chimneys and the operator! After all, we got some good from this experience; before it, very often we were shadowed by, may be, government people, G-men, probably looking for what we knew; after that, probably people started to believe that we were a lot of cheats, and the pressure upon us started to lighten. We had made a name for ourselves!


In 1964, I was still living in Milano, but had already built my “Villino verde” in Montesilvano. A lot of persons have been hosted in there, among them Walter, a Swiss gentleman, Verena, his wife, and their sons, Marino and Maya. I convinced Walter to give one of his cars to Giancarlo; this car was a Renault, a convertible car. This car lasted no longer than a couple of months. One day, Giancarlo had to go to Roma, because at last he had been able to buy an apartment, and he wanted to furnish it; before leaving, he had taken away from the car everything that was not strictly necessary, transforming it into a kind of a small van. He had just married, and went to Roma to take all the presents he and his wife had received, and also some piece of furniture, overloading this way that small car. It was like when you look at a comic, he, his wife, and all this stuff over that Renault. Just to add another problem, while getting back they ran out of fuel, and it was a problem because it was a Sunday (Author: In Italy, on holidays, Sundays, and the like, typically most gasoline stations are out of service), and he had to make a long walk, taking an empty can with him, looking for a service station. Hopefully, he was able to find one, just a couple of kilometers away, where he got his can filled with gasoline. Any way, the car did not survive a long time after that disastrous trip: first, a spring broke, and was repaired; then, it ran out of oil, because the meter was not working, and Giancarlo simply forgot to test the amount of oil inside the motor! Therefore he was forced to dismiss it, after having taken away all that he thought could be useful.


Once I asked a friend of mine, father Filippo, a friar who was living in Cepagatti (a small village some 20 kilometers west of Pescara) to host Giancarlo for a few months in his small monastery, so that he could attend in peace to the development of his technical projects; from time to time I was presenting father Filippo with small offerings, in change of his hospitality. Later on father Filippo got out from his order, to become a priest, because he was in heavy economical problems (Author: In Italy friars live on charity, while priests receive a regular wage by our government), and I was so offended that I didn’t want to meet him again. Any way, in this monastery, Giancarlo had been working to the design of a kind of weapon, with the technology of our friends, and one day I was invited, together with some friends, to be present at the first experiment of this new device. Father Filippo was worrying about possible damages, but Giancarlo told us that everything was under control. After a long preparation, Giancarlo operated his weapon, aiming it to a nearby tree. I must confess that I was rather skeptical; after the shot nothing happened, and we went to have a closer look at the gun. Giancarlo noticed that a gold needle, that was vital to his device, and that I had bought for him, had become like ash. “This needle has not endured the stress!” he was saying; we got back inside the monastery, but after a while were called back by the friars: “The tree has caught fire!” Evidently in a way or another the weapon had done its work.


Then Giulio returned to Italy. He went immediately to Giancarlo’s, and they came together to Milano to meet me. My small apartment was full of people: my family and Bruno, the journalist, any way we were able to accommodate these two more people. We were told that we had to go to Pineto, because an operation was to take place, and it was necessary that as many persons as possible should attend. So we went to Pescara by car, there were 10 of us, and went to stay for the night at the hotel Dino, in Firenze street; early in the morning, we went out, one after the other, arising the perplexity of the night watchman: “Where all these people come from? Are they, may be, leaving the hotel without setting the bill?” “Don’t worry – I told him – I am a friend of Dino’s, and later on I’ll get back to fix it.”


Then we went to Pineto. It was winter, and there was a lot of snow, so that it was difficult to negotiate the hill by car. When we arrived on the top, we remained waiting; Bruno stated that he had a tape with a speech made by Dimpietro, directed to all of us; so he started walking up and down, in his camel overcoat, aiming at us his recorder and playing the tape. In the mean time we received a message from our friends, telling us to place ourselves in a certain way over the ground, and telling also that they were to take away the material we had carried for them, but this time not from under the ground, but from the sky, because, for some unknown reason, they were not able to make the operation directly from within their base. We remained there for over one hour and a half, it was very cold; all of a sudden, we felt the ground trembling, we saw a fierce light, emerging from the ground and speeding towards the sky; then the light came back, disappeared under the ground, and we heard a loud crack. After a while, small leaves started falling from the trees. “Now you may leave”. “Is that all? “ Bruno asked, and Giancarlo rebuked him harshly. So we went back, but many of us were confused, because they were non able to understand what had gone on. In the following days, back in Milano, these people started to loosen their relationship with us, they were making silly jokes via telephone and we never met again many of them.


Then Giulio started to suffer for a pain in his spine; our friends made a kind of remote diagnosis, then asked him to place an unexposed photographic film, in the dark, around his back. When the film was later developed, there was a sort of radiography impressed on it, and they told him that the problem was consisting in a displaced vertebra, and that an hernia was impending. “Any way, we’ll fix it, there is no need for you to undergo an operation.” At first, Giulio looked to have accepted the proposal, but a few day later he got hospitalized, and operated. When I heard about that, I was astonished, and the worse has been that, after having being discharged from the hospital, he was feeling even worse than before. Sigir told him that in this new conditions, they could be of little help, because surgeons had damaged some nervous terminations, and he was risking to remain paralyzed in one leg. They sent him a very thin copper plate, and told him to apply it over the place his spine was aching, and to keep it fixed there during a whole month.


Once, in Milano, many of us had gathered together. We had been told to get to a secluded spot, where three ships were to land. It was winter, and the morning was very foggy. All of a sudden, the smog looked to condense on its sides, leaving an opening in the center, and three flashes zapped through it, then everything returned normal. We walked in the direction of the lights, and in a short time we arrived near to the disks sitting on the ground. They were at the center of a small valley; we were prevented to get too near to them “We are not here to make a show, we have our own business, but if your friends like to have a look, they’re welcomed; only, please, do not get too near to our ships. We may give you ten minutes at most, then you’ll have to go away. And do not take any picture! Your cameras would get no result.”


One of our group said “We are going to see if that’s true”, and started to snap photos. I got angry, because I had transmitted them the request of our friends, and told him to stop at once. “I am already done, tomorrow I’ll give you the printouts.” Of course, next day, there was nothing in the pictures, as our friends had told us (20). “How can it be? May be it has been just a dream.” At that, I drove him out!


Getting back to the previous day, our silly guys got satisfied: they had the need of seeing something, and our friend had complied. Any way, when the ten minutes elapsed, they transmitted me the urge of being let free to attend to their business, because the show was over. We remained there some minutes longer, because some in our group did not want to get away; we started to quarrel, and, all of a sudden, the three ships disappeared! I got the message “We are still here, only we had became invisible, so that your friends will get tired of staring at nothing.” So I told my fellows “OK, they just went away, now we may do the same.” “How, they were here one second ago!” “Well, if you do no like, you are welcomed to complain!” I had got really furious at those stupid men. Through such episodes, I was starting to realize that there are too many silly persons around, and that probably it would have been better not to admit other persons inside our group.


Later on, Giulio apparently had a quarrel with Bruno, and Giancarlo came to me, saying that strange things were taking place, that the two of them were looking to be changing their minds, were saying strange things, as if something unforeseeable had happened. I was not able to do anything, I didn’t even know what to do; they would not listen at me, because they had really changed their minds, and would not accept anything different from what they were now believing. They came to me, and I got very angry during the ensuing discussion, at a moment I was going to break a bottle on their head! Giancarlo stopped me, they flew away, and since then we had very little contacts with them. Later, our friends told us that now they were under the yoke of our enemies, and that when one enters such a situation, it is almost impossible for him to get out from it.


Many years later, I went to Bruno’s, and he was actually touched; he took me into his bedroom, and showed me three trench coats that in the old days had been charged in some way by our friends, and he was still keeping them with a great care. We started talking, and he was regretting that he was feeling that this story was not to reach any result, that it would go on this way endlessly, and he was not able to understand why we were still engaged into it. What was I to respond him? “We are not living an adventure, that has to end at a certain moment.” Once again I got angry, I went away, and haven’t met Bruno since then.


Paolo, although he was a good friend of Bruno’s, remained with us; for a while he moved abroad, and the very night he got back to Italy, at 2 a. m. he came to my apartment to greet me. That night my family was not in, and beside me a friar was sleeping. He had been sent to Milano to attend a convention, and was staying at my home. Paolo was rather astonished; as he was tired, I made a coffee for him, and we remained talking up to the morning. Then he went to the station, to take a train home. He was employed at the FAO in Rome, had a degree in Economy, and we had met because he was working with Giancarlo’s wife.


Then, also Paolo left, in a very stupid way, in 1970; during these years, he had been with me almost all the time, coming with me during my trips, continuing to share my experiences, and most often I was paying his expenses. He had been telling me that he was going into raptures, while he was listening to our friends, that no university professor, no text book was at their level: “They are telling us extraordinary things.”


In 1970 Dik died; the same year I was introduced to father Domenico, who used to speak strictly in dialect: “Hey, boy, it’s a long time I’ve been looking after you – he told me when we met – I have been looking for you, but have not been able to find you up to now. By pure chance, some days ago I’ve met the veterinary surgeon who usually comes here to Manoppello, and I asked him whether he was acquainted with a man so-and-so” Di Biagio answered father Domenico: “The only person I know, who is very religious, friend of so many friars, author of so many books, is Prof. Bruno Sammaciccia.”


After father Domenico had been able to find me, he started frequenting my home, giving me many tasks, typically to help him in his historical researches on religious topics, and to give lectures, which I was really pleased to do. And his blue eyes were always smiling at me; I remember his long white beard, he was looking like Santa Claus, and indeed I was used to name him “Babbo Natale” (Italian for Santa Claus). My friendship with father Domenico lasted seven, eight years, then he died because of a car accident, in Turin.


Again in 1970 I was met by Sadi; his true name was Assad; his father was an university professor of Islamic theology; his parents had divorced when he was 7, he had studied in a Lebanese college (he had been born in Lebanon), then he came to Rome to attend university. When he was taken to my home, he was, may be, 23. He was a Judo champion; the day we met, he was strikingly limping, because he had hurt one of his knees during a contest. I started to explain him our situation, which was extremely strange, of course, but he was accepting everything without getting too much upset, without reserve, to the point that it was me to be a bit perplexed. “Have you understood what I’ve told you? It’s not all made up, has nothing to do with politics, religions or the like, we are not a sect, it’s just a very unusual, but immanent experience, an all-encompassing one.” “Yes, I’ve understood.”


He was, and is still now, very intelligent. “It’s so strange, I feel that you are speaking about a great reality, and I would like to get a deeper insight into it.” He was making use of a very simple psychological trick, staring at me to understand whether I was telling the truth, and of course I was aware of that. When he got convinced, he stopped that attitude. So he started to share our experiences, to meet our friends, to act according to their requests. Very often he and Paolo were together, but Paolo was starting to feel a bit nervous, uneasy in front of a world that was beyond his understanding. He told me that he had spoken to a priest, a professor at the Cattolica university in Rome. “You are nothing, in respect to these people – he told the priest – when they speak, they tell concepts that have never been heard of before. The best lecture by our best scholars is nothing, in front of what our friends tell us.” “Care, because tricks may come from lower worlds” the priest answered. “But no – said Paolo – these are not captious speeches, they tend to elevate us, not to the other way.”


Once Paolo had an experience that has shocked him; he didn’t want to tell me in full what had happened, just that a man had appeared all of a sudden, uttering “Now you are in my power”, but I know nothing more about that accident. Any way things were getting worse and worse with him, when I looked at him he usually was turning red. “Here there is something brewing” I told to myself. Then, all of a sudden, Paolo came to me, telling that someone had explained him what was going on, in a rather simple way: of course, it was a case of diabolical possession! “You are going to see me no longer, I can’t participate in a diabolical affair.” Sadi, who was living in Roma at that time, told me later that he had met Paolo, and had beaten him harshly, because he had said slanders against my wife and me. Sadi, who now teaches at university, was given various kinds of tasks by our friends, to collect the goods they were needing, or to sell precious items to get money for other operations; these have never been jewels, but unrefined materials; for instance, I had never seen a gold nugget, and when Sadi did show me one that he had been given, in order to sell it, I was not able to recognize what it was: I would have said that it was oxidized brass rather than gold, but when they had it melted, actually fine gold resulted.


When we were given lessons by our friends, Sadi was usually listening carefully, and was understanding almost everything, because he was very intelligent, but I noticed that his was a cold intelligence, like the surface of a frozen lake at night, under the moonlight. I was doing my best so that he could open his soul, start to make use of the superior parts of his being. He was usually practicing Yoga, so in a sense he would not find too many problems in doing so. Little by little, indeed, he actually started putting his rationalism aside, not forgetting it, but adding intuition to it.


Then, Sadi got his degree, summa cum laude. Often he makes me smile, because he is really very fat, he loves to eat, and he eats really more than you can even imagine. Once the two of us went to Losanne, in Switzerland, where I was to give a lecture, and in the morning we went to the hotel cafeteria to have breakfast; through the windows, I noticed a magnificent church just beside the hotel, so, as usual, I went out to have a better look. When I got back, I found that Sadi had almost emptied the self-service buffet table, to the astonishment of the waiters, who were staring at him! I was feeling a bit ashamed …

I really love Sadi, and he feels a kind of  reverence towards me; in his books, he often writes about me as “Papà Bruno” (Author: Italian for “Bruno, my dad”). In “La via della realtà” (Author: “The Path towards Truth”) he recounts covertly about the concepts he has learnt from our friends; actually, he had to write two more books on the subject, because I had told him that this first one was not so easy at all for unaware people to understand but, to his dismay, they did not meet with success. Very few copies had been sold, indeed I presented many monasteries with most of the remaining copies, and Sadi was very disappointed. “If you write things that most people are not able to understand – I told him – it is not you who has not met with success, but it’s them who are not up enough.”

Our friends had told me to build a large villa, on the top of a high hill near Montesilvano; I may say that the global design, and the actual building of this residence had been made under their guidance. It was really very large, on three floors, with many meeting rooms, large convention rooms, cubicles for individual studying; there was even a small astronomical observatory on the roof, and, obviously, within its foundations special arrangements had been designed, so that our friends could emerge from their base. I was to gather inside this house a large amount of people, and to introduce them to this new reality, having some of our friends with me, to assist me in these operations. To say the truth, they had told me that my new house was to become their operational center, and that they would give us some technical projects that we could sell, to get some money.

Among my guest in the villa there was the Swiss family: the husband, Walter, was an engineer, his wife Verena had a degree in foreign languages, but never did she teach; she was very good at driving their jeep over rough ground; they were living in Aurillio, a small village near to Lugano, in the Swiss mountains, and a jeep was required to go up and down those cliffs. Then there were their sons: Maya, their daughter, was a clever commercial artist, a very esteemed one; she was also a sea diver, but our friends had prevented her from going on, because, they told me, such a practice was going to speed up a latent disease; actually, when she was going very deep, she started hearing a music, some Beethoven, and when our friends heard about that, they stated that is was a bad omen. The girl started to have problems in walking, her sight too was affected; she got hospitalized, and was diagnosed a multiple sclerosis; I called Rita, a very good friend of mine, and a profound expert in biology (Author: I do not report here her family name, but am able to confirm that Rita is an authority in the field). She told me that there was nothing that could be done. “Within two, may be three years at most, your friend will get immobilized into a wheel-chair by a paralysis; nothing can be done to prevent that. At times, seldom, people in her conditions do recover, but our science is unable to understand why.” Therefore I sought help from our friends, and was told that even to them it was impossible to have her recovered. “All we can do is to slow down the process. She will start to deteriorate within three years or so, then will get worse and worse during the next 13 years. We are not able to predict now what will happen at the end.” Things went actually this way (21).

Then there was her brother, Martino, very fond of electronics; he stayed with us for a long time, attending the university in L’Aquila, but was not able to get his degree. Now he works in Lugano.

Verena and her daughter now retired into a boarding-house for elder people; when she calls me by telephone, she usually tells me that her body is in Switzerland, but her thoughts are here, with my wife and me.

This Swiss people were, at the start, Calvinists, then I converted them to Catholicism, and introduced them to many bishops, to father Domenico, that really loved them very much. They have lived with me for many years.

At a time our friends left for a short period. It was May; Martino, Giancarlo, Walter and I were strolling as usual along the sea shore, when we got a message: “We have to tell you something important; please proceed further North.” We were roughly in front of Umberto avenue, so we proceeded; a couple of kilometer further, and we got another message: “Fine, now you may rest; in that place there are no unfriendly ears; for reasons we can’t explain you, we are to leave for a period of seven, eight months; do not worry about the CTR’s, because before leaving we’ll do something to prevent them from hurting you. After this job will be over – they went on – there will be a change in our activity, and we’ll start a new work to elevate not just you only, but the whole of mankind.” They also gave us a set of instructions about what to do if we were needing some help. Actually they went out for seven months and a half. Every day Giancarlo was in unrest, saying that he was not able to stand this situation, and was asking me to do something, but of course there was nothing I could do. From my own part, I too was very sad, those seven months looked to never come to an end; to us, to get in touch with our friends was a vital need, something like the habit of smoking: think if, for whatever a reason, you should stop smoking for seven months (Author: Both Bruno and I are rather heavy smokers). Usually in the morning I was to receive a message from our friends, most times just a “Hi!” because most of times there was nothing impending, and now all of a sudden it was silence! After seven months and a half had elapsed, Giancarlo and I were sitting in my cabinet in Genova street, and we got a message from our friends, stating that they had got back! I am not able to describe what took place inside my flat!

In the first days of April, 1972, Giancarlo, Sadi, Gustav and I went again into the base under the Monti Sibillini, and we remained there for two or three days. When getting out, we all were surprised, because our clocks, and the outside world, were telling us that some days had elapsed, while to us it was looking as if we had been inside for no longer than one single day. Our friends then told me that inside their base the gravity was a 20% less than usual, therefore one could move easier, the heart beats with a less strain, and that was the cause of our mistake in the evaluation of time. They said that there was a technical goal in this lower gravity, but I stopped their explanations, because I was sure it was not in my capabilities to understand any technical detail.

Then we were admitted into other bases; they were all alike to each other: one was always struck at first by the all-pervasive light, then by that strange feeling when breathing, it was as you were feeling you were acquiring energy at every single breath, a bit as while you are practicing the Yoga “deep breathing”, but the feeling was much more intense than that.

Then the catastrophe struck, the CTR’s had got hold of the most of us, and probably the main cause has been a woman, the rotten apple because of which all the other apples in the basket get rotten. Our friends had been continuously goading us, saying “Dear friends, remember that unity is strength, if you fight against one another, then the adverse forces and our enemies are going to take advantage of that, your group will disintegrate, and we will be unable to do anything to prevent that. A group is like a living entity, and when it starts to break away, all the projects it is pursuing go astray. And then there is nothing we can do. When your defenses are weakened, our enemies may take grasp of your minds, change your memories and your will. The only way to prevent that consists in keeping together, with a good Uredda (Author: In their thoughts, Uredda is the general harmony, it is not just an abstract concept, but an actual living entity that operates on persons, on situations, on everything), you may keep your will, and protect yourselves.”

I started to do whatever I could in order to keep our group compact, I was even imploring all of them to keep quiet, to remain firmly together. Every communications from our friends was always ending with the directive “Stay together. Had you to complain for anything, please tell Bruno, or tell us directly, because on the contrary, these negative feelings will end up prevailing unto yourselves, and unto our common history.” But all that was to no avail. I was often calling everybody to my home, and was asking them if anything was wrong with them; they were always pretending that everything was OK, but our friends were then telling me that they were lying; and I too was aware of that, but could say nothing, least they were aware that our friends were controlling their sentiments.

So problems started to arise. “Look – I told them – if you start breaking Uredda we are going to face an enormous problem.” A night I called Giancarlo: “Giancarlo, listen to me: did anybody complain on anything? Is there anybody who stirs up, who sows doubts?” Unfortunately, Giancarlo too was very puzzled.

Then, one after the other, they started to get away, each one with a different justification. One told me that he was feeling as if he were living a cloister situation, and he didn’t have any vocation for that. There were many different tunes, but all of them were coming from a single orchestra. It was evident that nothing was working any longer; also my business was going badly, a lot of complications every where, a real mess.

They were telling me: “You have the soul of a prophet, the mind of a mystic, but you are encompassed by situations that require the ability to manage other people, and you must take care of that.” Was I really the supreme leader of the group, was I to impose my will with a whip? That’s foolish, we may just joke on that. Probably I have been the spiritual leader of our group, but I have never imposed my will unto the others.

Our colleagues were not able to adhere to the teachings of our friends, and our group started to disintegrate. They were aware of the risks, but did not care too much, and that has been the worst thing they could do. The CTR’s, little by little, were seizing the opportunity, altering documents, changing memories, even wiping out somebody’s memories, injecting wrong feelings, as easily as if they were showing a movie. Our friends had often stressed that against all that the only possible defense should consist in a firm will, but such a will was missing.

Unfortunately it happened as our friends had forecast, Redda took place (Author: Redda is a negative concept, a disruptive living entity, in opposition to Uredda). As our Uredda was of vital importance, our defection ended in the weakening of our friends also; they told us: “You have not done what we had asked you to do; now we can’t withstand the situation any longer; our devices now are ineffective, and in a few days a catastrophe is going to strike, the one we always have warned you against. Now, we do not have enough time to arrange for a sufficient defense program.”

The final catastrophe struck in November, 1978, when the CTR’s were able to attack our friends, and to enter and destroy most of their bases, even the largest one, the one extending from Pescara to Ancona, and from the central Adriatic sea westward to the central Italy;. I was listening, via wireless, to what was going on some kilometers beyond my feet, the cries, the noises, the orders, in their language which I have never been able to study. They told us: “You are going to see that waters will rise, will be boiling, all over the places where we have built our big base.” I was feeling very sick, I was often vomiting, because it was my very world that was collapsing around me. My wife was crying, without fully understanding what was going on.

(Author: during this period the Adriatic sea went mad; see later on for a short description of what happened).

 It was a terrific situation; many of our friends flew away, we were keeping in touch just with their central nucleus, that had remained intact, where a few of our friends were barricading themselves to organize a last defense, in order to allow the others to escape. This final phase lasted eight days. Something similar had already taken place one year before, but then it had been possible to prevent it from evolving; this time, on the contrary, it has been a total defeat.

Among the few of us who had remained together, somebody thought of committing suicide, it can’t be told the prostration that was pervading our souls; the others simply went away, just like the mice which run away while their ship is sinking. And while fleeing, they lost their memories, of what they had done, and of what they were doing in that moment; they lost the affection they had been feeling for our encounters, so rare, so rich, so happy, as long as it had lasted. And they flew away with anger against me: “You should have let us know that something was to go wrong” they were telling me, but that was obviously preposterous, because I had spent most of my time trying to get them together, and to keep Uredda alive. To me it has been an awful, tormenting moment.

And that has been the end of the story. It went on, on a smaller level, for a while, but our friends were not able to endure. Many of them had died. Sigir and Dimpietro had escaped, but their youngsters did not. The very few W56’s that had endured, at the end left, but not immediately; they went away in two groups, one on the 6th, the second one on the 11th of December, 1986. When they left, something broke inside me.

I suffered great losses: I had to sell everything, two buildings belonging to my wife, a couple of agricultural sites, above all I had to sell the large villa I had built on the hill West of Montesilvano, and in doing so I collected no more than one tenth of the global value, because I had to sell everything in a hurry. Nowadays, the villa should be worth some 15 billions of liras, and I got only 1.5 billions from selling it.

To make things worst, I had written two books, one in French, “J’accuse”, then another one in Italian, “L’accusa” (Author: both names mean “The Charge”) in which I actually charged two of the major world medicine companies with the poisonings they had been making all around the world, and these companies vehemently rejected my charges, but secretly started to plot against me, and in that moment I was very weak, in every sense.

After having sold my large villa, I built a smaller one in Montesilvano, in Luciani street, but our friends, the few ones that were still in touch with us, told me to be very careful, because that was the place where they had destroyed the “Hydra”, and it was likely that some negative elements were still surviving. In the Hydra’s times, that was country, now it was an over-crowded place. Actually I was not living well inside this new villa; once, when returning home from the Mass, I found Aro, my new dog, a Dalmatian, just dead after the gate. Therefore in a short time I sold also this new villa.

The director of my bank died in a traffic accident, a business consultant who had betrayed me died in another accident, families were disrupted, one inside our group got mad, another went abroad, another started suffering of a nervous disease that prevented him to get out of his house, and so on and so forth. I was submerged with lies, with the most preposterous charges and slanders; three times lawsuits have been pleaded against me, but I have always been declared innocent of any charge.

Any way, I haven’t lost my hopes to meet them again: may be some of the W56’s shall get back in 2002 or 2003, but not because of us; they have something else to accomplish, I do not know what. May be I’m just deluding myself, because of my strong desire to be again with them; one who has not lived such an experience cannot be able to understand such a desire; he will understand my words, the words of the friend of mine who is helping me to write down these lines, but he cannot feel what we have felt, hear and see what we have heard and seen, the image itself of these beings, their civilization, their sensibility, their infinite goodness, and, above all, their strength; with us, goodness is often considered to be a synonym of weakness, of the desire not to compromise oneself; on the contrary, their goodness is a true strength, because in wickedness there is no strength at all. When one gets angry, and may be even violent, he just shows how feeble he is.

These forty years have been like a jewel to me, both the days of happiness and also the moments of the uppermost fear. In fact, one should speak about two parallel histories, the one regarding the W56’s and the other one, related to the enemies of humanity. The enemies of the W56’s are very powerful beings, technologically advanced, but their civilization is devoid of any soul whatever. They are people without any future, because they are interested in science only, they are materialists, atheists. They believe strongly in their attitude, which I consider, on the contrary, a sin against our Creator. It may look strange that such a situation takes place, but that is because of the dualism that permeates everything, from the one’s self to the whole universe. Our friends have saved us from the evil deeds of their enemies, and in doing so they have also saved our future, but here nobody is going to be aware of that. These extraordinary beings, who belong to the cosmos itself, have come here to help us, not to hurt us. They have not taught us to steal, to kill, to be proud of ourselves, to dream of an empire; their religious attitudes are beyond any imagination; they maintain that what we know about Christ is but an obvious evidence, and of course their knowledge on this subject is much wider that ours.

While writing this book, I believe I am presenting the reader with the information about such great a people, it’s a kind of gift from my part, and I hope that when the reading will be over, he will look at the night sky with different eyes, being persuaded that in those distances beyond any imagination, beings live that are friends to all of us.



03/03/2024 ... 03:59:36           Totale pagina, n° 4468                  Pag. totali oggi, n°   24                 Online, n°  1

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