Greetings Earthlings: An Alien Miscellany

Where: Villa Santina, Italy.
When: August 14, 1947.
Witness: Professor R. L. Johannis.

Introduction

Given the gap between the last post and this one some of you might have been wondering if I'd been abducted, or sent to sleep with the fishes by some zero tolerance Men in Black. The truth is rather more mundane. Since last we spoke I've been both sick and on holiday, though thankfully not at the same time. Anyway, enough about me and my terrestrial adventures, let’s move on (but not before thanking the talented and generous David Sankey for the use of the above image).

1947 is, of course, a significant (and celebrated) year in ufological circles with two seminal events occurring within a fortnight of each other: Kenneth Arnold's famous sighting of "flying saucers" near Mount Rainier, Washington (June 24th), and the crash of something that may or may not have been a weather balloon in Roswell, New Mexico (July 4th).

In these early moments of an explosive post-war wave one can see a modern "myth" beginning to assemble itself - pulling together its key motifs and images. A fascinating time then, and one we're going to revisit today by taking a look at one of the earliest modern¹ encounter narratives.

Appearance

The beings were "no more than 90 centimeters in height" and wore "dark blue overalls" made of a vaguely "translucent" material. Their heads were "bigger than the head of a normal man" and were covered by what looked like dark brown tight-fitting caps. Their noses were "straight…and very long", while each being had a mouth that was "a mere slit", which opened and closed at regular intervals "very much like the mouth of a fish". The eyes were "enormous and protruding" and there may have been horizontal or vertical pupils. Their skin was of an "earthy green" colour. The witness also noticed "eight fingers, four of them opposable to the others" on each (claw-like) hand.²

Event

On the morning of August 14, 1947 Professor R. L. Johannis ("a well known Italian painter and writer")³ was making his way up a short valley that "ends on the lower slope of the central mountain massif, the Carnico del Col Gentile".⁴ With him he had a small knapsack and a geologist's pick to assist him in the collection of some fossils (Johannis was a keen student of geology).

His encounter occurred as he followed a path (that wound through clumps of fir trees) by the banks of a dry stream:

As I emerged from one of these clumps of fir I noticed, on the rocky river bank, and at a distance of about 50 metres from me, a large lenticular object of vivid red colour. I am slightly short-sighted, and so I quickly put my glasses on. When I had arrived at a spot a few steps distant from the 'thing', I was able to establish the fact that it was a disc - seemingly of varnished metal like the metal of an ordinary toy - having the shape of a lens and a low central cupola with no apertures. At its tip a sort of shining metallic antenna, of telescopic form, was protruding, roughly similar to those we have on our present-day motor-cars.

(And here I must state straight away that I knew nothing whatever in those days of flying saucers and I do not think that the Italian newspapers had even started to talk about them.)

The object, some 10 metres wide, was embedded, to the extent of about a quarter of its length, in a great transverse cleft in the friable rock of the mountain side, and was at a height of about 6 metres above the bed of the stream.

Without more ado I decided that I would climb up there to it and see what it was, but first of all (and anybody else would have done the same) I looked round to see whether there was anybody about who - should the need arise - could help me.⁵

It was at this point that he noticed (about 50 metres from where he stood) a pair of "boys" on the edge of a grove of trees. He began walking toward them, shouting and pointing at the disc. When he got within 25 yards of the two figures he stopped, petrified:

The two 'boys' were dwarfs, the likes of which I had never seen nor even imagined. They were coming towards me slowly, with tiny strides, with their hands at their sides and their heads motionless. When they had come to a few paces from me, they halted. I had no strength left, I seemed to be paralysed, or to be dreaming. But I was still able to observe them in every detail. And those details have remained impressed upon me so indelibly that even now I could make a portrait or even a statue of those extraordinary beings. However I must confess that the dominating sentiment in me then was one of enormous astonishment combined with fear, as you will well understand.⁶

Johannis goes on to describe their appearance much as I have summarised above, before continuing the narrative:

I remained there in astonishment, for what seemed to me an interminably long time, gazing at the two extraordinary creatures. Only later was I able to calculate roughly how long it was. I think the silent confrontation lasted no more than two or three minutes. Then I raised my arm with the pick and waved it in their direction and then in the direction of the disc, and, in an agitated voice, I shouted and asked who they were, where they came from, and if I could be of any help to them. They wheeled round very quickly and I can't remember what I said after that, for things began to happen fast.

I now believe that the two beings had interpreted my precipitate gestures as being threatening to them. But I don't know for sure, and don't suppose I ever shall. What is certain is that one of them raised his right hand to his belt, and from the centre of the belt there came something that seemed as though it might be a thin puff of smoke. I now think it was a ray or something of the sort. Anyway, before I had time to move or do anything, I found myself laid out full length on the ground. My pick shot out of my hand, as though snatched by an invisible force.⁷

Johannis found himself "deprived of all strength" and unable to raise himself. As he watched, one of the beings bent down to pick up the tool, allowing Johannis to observe that its chest was quivering: "like a dog's chest when it pants after a long run".

After some "fantastic efforts" Johannis managed to force himself into a sitting position and watched as the two beings climbed slowly back up to the disc ("which was imbedded almost vertically in the rock").⁸

A few more minutes elapsed, and then the strange object shot straight out from the rock and rose into the air. A cascade of stones and earth fell down on to the bed of the river. And that was the only noise that broke the silence in that lonely spot. The stream, being at low water, was trickling silently over the pebbles.

The disc remained there stationary in the air, like an enormous suspended gong. I could distinctly see its sharply cut flange 4 or 5 metres from me, and for a moment I was seized with terror that it was going to come down and cut me in half like a worm.

I am not sure, but I think I shouted at the top of my voice. At any rate, I am certain that I made every effort to get up and escape. The result was that I kept falling back again, supine and racked with pain.

Meanwhile, the disc had tipped slightly away from its vertical position. Then it suddenly grew smaller, and vanished. Immediately afterwards, I was struck by a tremendous blast of wind (the air shock?), which rolled me over and over on the ground and filled my eyes with dust. I ended up against the stones in the river bed and remained there for I don't know how long. Finally I managed to get into a sitting position again and it was then that I looked at my wrist watch. It was 9.14.⁹

It was not till midday, however, that Johannis felt well enough to set off home - "My bones all felt as if they were broken and my legs were weak and trembling, as though after a fearful bout of drinking." It was then that he discovered (as is fairly common in such encounters) that the "visitors" had taken some souvenirs: the metal casing of his thermos flask, an aluminum fork and an aluminum can were all missing.

Aftermath

In a 1964 letter to Gianni Settimo (founder of the Centri Studi Clipeologici, Turin) Johannis reflects on the episode and mentions that a sketch he had done (of the beings) soon after the event was lost by the editorial office of the Italian weekly L'Europeo. The well-known image below was not sketched by him until the mid-60s, and thus is not (by his own admission) as faithful as the original.

As he puts it:

The sketches of the complete figures are to be considered as rough and approximate outlines and consequently of purely general value. Besides, I am at present inclined to believe the two pilots were nothing more than two "robots" whereas in 1947 I was convinced that I had met real and actual extraterrestrial beings.¹⁰

Thoughts

Though occurring right at the birth of the modern "flying saucer" era, Johannis' account contains numerous themes that were to become commonplace throughout the years that followed: paralysis (caused by an enigmatic device), the theft of personal objects, the loss or misplacement of "evidence" (in this case, a sketch), a sense that the entities' behaviour was "robotic", feelings of powerlessness and terror etc.

The sense one always gets from such tales (and it should be noted that Johannis has written works of science fiction) is of industrious creatures being rudely interrupted by an unwanted passer-by. Then follows the usual induced paralysis (or other more hostile action), before the creatures hop into a waiting craft and make a speedy exit. Not only are these aliens not seeking humans out, they seem to treat human presence as (at best) a total nuisance. A far cry from those proctologist Greys¹¹ who never seem to leave us alone, invading our bedrooms to whisk us away for unmentionable tests.

The notion of such entities being little more than "biological robots" has been discussed here before but it remains an intriguing one. Perhaps one could (if one subscribes to the view that these entities really were/are extraterrestrials) see such a reading as evidence of communicative breakdown. Given the importance of body language as a means of communication, it's possible that physical signals from aliens would be…well…alien - i.e. extremely difficult to interpret or understand.

Whatever the case may be, there's now something quaint and charmingly "old-school" about the idea of humanoid robots. Do they even make regular appearances in encounter narratives any more or have they been consigned to a retro Sci-Fi dustbin? While robots appear to be the accepted way of the future as far as our own exploration of space is concerned, it's highly unlikely that NASA (et al) would seriously consider Professor Johannis' "little green men" as optimum models of high-tech efficiency.

A final mention should be made of the Professor's missing metal objects. Once again it's hard to avoid touching on those hoary old alien/fairy parallels, for (as anyone with a passing interest in folklore will tell you) it's well-known that "The Gentry" have a fear of metal (iron, in particular). Make of that what you will dear reader.

Images

i.e., Post-Kenneth Arnold [back]
Johannis, R. L. "I Saw a Flying Saucer" reproduced in The Humanoids, ed. Charles Bowen (London: Futura, 1974), pgs. 190-191. [back]
Creighton,Gordon "The Villa Santina Case" in The Humanoids p. 188. [back]
Johannis, p. 188. [back]
Ibid., pgs. 189-190 [back]
Ibid., p. 190 [back]
Ibid., pgs. 191-192. [back]
Ibid. [back]
Ibid., pgs. 192-193 [back]
Ibid., p. 198 [back]
Hat tip to "Copernicus" for coining this natty term. [back]

Greetings Earthlings