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Memoirs of Lt. Camillo Viglino: Italian Air Force 1915-1916

by Lt. Camillo Viglino; Translated by Camilla Hurwitz and Victor Viglino

121 pages; quality trade paperback (softcover); catalogue #01-0335; ISBN 1-55212-933-0; US$19.95, C$29.95, EUR19.50, £13.50

A firsthand account, accompanied by photographs, of the experiences of a World War I flight trainee during the earliest days of military aviation. Memoirs of Lt. Camillo Viglino has received critical acclaim, and has been reviewed in magazines such as Canadian History Review and on websites such as www.worldwar1.com.

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about the book      about the author      excerpts      catalogue info

About the Book In July of 1915, just two months after Italy joined the Allied Forces during World War I, Lieutenant Camillo Viglino, age 23, volunteered for flight training in the Italian Air Force. His account of the training provides the freshness and intimacy of an on-the-scene, firsthand report. It reveals an idealistic young man with an unbridled passion for flying and a patriotic zeal to fight for his country -- a young man daring to go up in the fragile flying machines of those early years of aviation, routinely placing himself at the mercy of the weather, cantankerous engines, and unreliable instruments. The discomforts of flying an open-cockpit 1914 Maurice Farman, the frequent crashes at the flight school, and the constant occurrences of pilots getting lost are all related with a nonchalant bravado befitting a 20-year-old. Viglino follows his diary-like accounts with a copy of a letter from a cousin at the front describing an air raid on Adelsberg, Austria. This book was written in Italian and originally published in Italy in 1934. It was translated into English by his two children, Camilla Viglino Hurwitz and Victor Viglino. Reviews AVIATION HISTORY Arthur H. Sanfelici "...provides a fascinating firsthand look at the life of a World War I Italian flight trainee. Viglino makes it all seem very real- the discomforts of open-cockpit flying, the frequent crashes at the flight school and the constant problems that resulted when young, inexperienced pilots became lost. Viglino's account makes for great reading. It is a very personal, diarylike narrative told in great detail by a pilot who was able to put into words his experiences and impressions. The black-and-white photographs, while not of great quality, relate well to the story and to the author." CANADIAN MILITARY HISTORY Jonathan F. Vance "It provides a fascinating account of the training regimen of the Italian air service, and an intriguing glimpse into the mentality of the pilots. It is also one of the very few memoirs by Italian pilots of the Great War that is available in English." CEDAR HILL TIMES SENTINEL Lou Antonelli "...is a fascinating account of the days when the hazard in flying came because planes were flimsy, fragile, and untested. The greatest value of his memoirs, however, lies in its authentic and first-hand account of what it was like when airplanes were the cutting edge technology and men and machine were tested daily. If you are a fan of the history of flight, this book is probably a special treat. I enjoyed it very much and if you like any of the fields it touches - war, flight, history - you can't do any better for a winter's evening read." FLYPAST Ken Ellis "Fascinating examination of Italian World War One flying, including the incredible Caproni triplane and other adventures as put into print by his daughter." LA VOCE ITALIANA Holly Beretto "Lt. Viglino's diary and essays chronicles the very early days of aviation and his own romance with the sky. With a detailed eye and embracing passion, he discusses the lessons necessary for pilots of his time to obtain their licenses. Those lessons, the types of planes and engines used and missions are presented with techno-speak worthy of a Tom Clancy novel. Lt. Viglino may have been an ordinary man, from an ordinary Italian city, but he lived an extraordinary life and was a witness to extraordinary moments in history. And from his unique, front-row perspective, we are given a unique glimpse into his experiences and history, itself. This memoir reverberates with the excitement of the newness of flying. In 1915, flying was in its infancy; it was uncharted, often dangerous ground. With a reverence for his subject and the religious belief that those who became pilots were destined to own the air, Lt. Viglino's memoirs show us the very dawn of aviation and credits the heroes who took those first flights. Filled with bravado and occasional banter, this look at the first days of flying is an important personal recollection from one who lived it. There is no better history than one told by history's witness."

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About the Author Camillo Viglino came from a very patriarchal, upper-class family that strongly opposed his decision to volunteer for flight training. Viglino's strong religious upbringing is evidenced by his allusion to divine intervention in the daily lives of the young student pilots contained in his memoirs. Unfortunately, his career as a military pilot was a very brief one, as the reader will discover on reading his memoirs. Viglino went on to obtain degrees in Law, Literature, and Philosophy, and became a professor at the Collegio Melleria Rosmini in Domodossola, where he had studied as a youth. He became a prolific writer, authoring numerous articles on religious subjects, personal experiences, and childrens' school texts. Finally he became the Editor of the Rivista Rosminiana, a Catholic newspaper published in Intra. In 1930, he married Ida Ferraris. Their first child, Vittorio, was born in 1931. In 1934, Viglino appended his memoirs with a number of surprisingly intuitive reflections on the future of aviation, the automobile, space travel, and other inventions of the 20th century. They are included in the book and demonstrate his foresight, his idealism, and the tenor of the times. Sadly, after having survived his daredevil exploits in aviation, Viglino succumbed to pneumonia and died in 1935 at the early age of 43. His wife was carrying their second child, Camilla, at the time.

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Excerpts

"...I glanced at my uncle's altimeter and saw that it registered about 60 feet. If it was right, I knew that in just a few seconds I would smash into the ground."

"...Believe it or not, the cockpit, with the pilot still inside, detached from the plane and slid inside an open window that was just at the right height while the rest of the plane crumbled into the wall. The pilot and the cockpit ended up in the middle of a group of bewildered mechanics scared out of their wits."

"...The percentage of fatalities was enormous. In their Lombardian dialect, the local bourgeois pitifully referred to us as "neck meat", the term applied to animals in the slaughter house."

"...was lucky enough to bring the plane down safely suspended on a clump of tall trees. And there he remained the entire night cooped up like a chicken inside the cockpit - uncomfortable and hungry - without daring to move for fear that the plane might fall to the ground."

"...after much yelling and waving, the students flung themselves against the plane to try to stop it. Unfortunately, they were hit in the chest by the wings and thrown upwards with legs flying. The plane ended up wedged in between two others and all three were completely demolished."

"...we had our colleagues hold on to the plane and release it when we were ready to take off. The trouble with men holding onto the plane was that they didn't always release it at exactly the same time, causing the plane to yaw in one direction or the other at full speed."

"...don't think for a minute that we didn't have respect for our classmates killed in flight. When the field truck passed in front of the cemetery, we all saluted. And when we passed over the cemetery in flight, again we all saluted. We were saluting the friends that we could be joining at any moment. When we attended the funeral of our friends who died flying, the women would look at us all with eyes full of pity. But we were no more deserving of their pity than the infantrymen who died hungry, in dirty trenches filled with lice. I guess in contrast to them, we risked a cold death, often foreseen, all alone, without the excitement of the hand-to-hand combat to distract us from its approach."

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Catalogue Information

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