conten Bee CUT perertane nab welibethhernnrnnvee tibet tteencaainatne damemeinne itenmnanmminten® mime whegtin A mi mat 2 Fm men ae ¥ precision. The commando who charged into the supermarket shouted, “Keep qui- et,” and told the customers: “We're from the police. Don’t be afraid and don’t move.” One woman fainted. Another called home afterward. “I was being held prisoner in the market,” she recalled. “I thought it might be a robbery.” Across thestreet a witness telephoned the police emergency number, 113, and report- ed a robbery in progress. “They swarmed outin civilian clothes, with their bulletproof vests and waving their submachine guns, and within seconds the whole piazza had been emptied,” said pastry-shop proprietor Adriana Boaretto. “Through my shop win- © dow I saw some young fellows with balacla- va helmets, with plastic bags over their heads, with scarfs tied around their faces OFQUTRS snp matt mtONE PRET ER DRESAR Aen are WTO sew ene eres: and woolen skiing caps.’ They certainly looked like terrorists, but one could see they were not, because the police didn’t shoot at them. One came into my shop and told. everybody to stay inside and’ keep away from the entrance,” Boaretto said. “‘They* were trying to take care of the people in case of a shoot-out. Also they wanted the car park empty in case some terrorist managed to escape the net.” oo ‘Overjoyed’: On the second floor of the apartment building, one of the commandos, a champion weight lifter, broke through an unmarked door “with one single blow,” as the police report put it—and promptly con- fronted and felled the terrorist who was returning from shopping. Within seconds, the Leatherheads had arrested all five Red Brigades jailers without firing a shot. “I was overjoyed,” Dozier said later, “and one of the finest things I felt was [when] I grabbed ahold of a policeman, and he had his flak jacket on, and it felt pretty good.” Dozier had a measure of respect for his captors. ee are a bunch of dedicated eople,” said. “The es peoP Approve For 46 -. meen ee a . . ; A soldier returns to trim: The last Red Brigades portrait, the first ch very serious about it.” The brigatisti round- ed up in Padua represent a cross section of battle-seasoned veteran terrorists and raw recruits. In addition to Emanuela Frascelta, .the apartment’s nominal tenant, . they included: . m Antonio Savasta, 27, a leader of the Rome column of the Red Brigades. Police suspect the former law student of helping plan the kidnap-murder of Moro and of chemical company executive Giuseppe Ta- liercio, He is also suspected of involvement .in the kidnapping of Ciro: Cirillo, an offi- cial of the ruling Christian Democratic Party. He won notoriety in a previous en- counter with police—escaping after a Feb- ruary 1980 shoot-out in the Sardinian city of Cagliari. a m Emilia Libera, 26, a Rome nurse and Sa- vasta’s companion. Libera accompanied Sa- vasta during the incident in Cagliari—and . by coincidence last week a Sardinian court sentenced the pair in absentia to 30-year prison sentences for attempted homicide. mw Cesare di Lenardo, 22, a former construc- tion worker from Gorizia. w Giovanni Ciucci, 32, a former railroad worker from Pisa. Police named Ciucci as the terrorist who was aiming a 9-mm Beret- ta pistol at Dozier’s head before a comman- do struck him down. The grimy, four-room apartment itself was a terrorist treasure-trove. Inside, police found fifteen pistols, five submachine guns, | seven hand grenades, six packages of plastic explosives, $17,000 in Italian currency, a mimeograph machine, false identification documents and a card file of prominent personalities in the region. Police also re- cavered the steamer trunk used to transport Dozier, the typewriter that had printed the five terrorist communiqués in the case— and the Red Brigades banner that served as a backdrop in the two photographs of Do- zier issued by the kidnappers. eeseburger and a shave interrupted by the President’ sata INTERMRPIOVGAIE OF Release 200010810 thay CLAoRDP PHP AZ 8ERN001002 ZA00I 2 suntight and driven to the local police station. About ten minutes later Ciucci, the wounded ter- rorist, was carried out and taken to a hos- pital in an ambulance. After a few minutes the four remaining brigatisti were led out, first the two men, then the two women. “They were all very quiet,” said a bystand- er. “None of them shouted or showed his fist as they usually do when the television is around,” Thursday: Safe at Padua’s police head- quarters, Dozier asked to know, first of all, the day of the week. When told, he repeated vaguely, “Giovedi, giovedi,” (Thursday). Police offered him a pair of shoes, but he said, “No, it doesn’t matter.” He declined a chair as well, explaining: “I’vespent the last six weeks without standing up, so I want to stand.” He said he was tired and refused food at first, but drank an espresso and a cappuccino. Finally, police chief Gian- franco Corrias asked Dozier ifhe would like totakea shower. The general declined again, saying, “I just want to go home.” ‘Here was aman whoseconds before had a pistol point- edat his head, yet he was the happiest manin the world,” said Corrias. “He never com- plained—a true officer.” The general was taken to the U.S. mili- tary hospital in Vicenza for a checkup and a reunion with Judith and Cheryl Dozier, who flew in from West Germany. Amid the tears, celebrations and talk ofa Washington meeting with the President, Dozier indicat- ed his own preference: a short vacation with his family and a quick return to his NATO - job. Back in Padua, three commandos in battle dress were still keeping watch at No. 2 Via Pindemonte eleven hours after their proudest 90 seconds. “We have been trained to do this job,” said the youngest one, pull- ing the scarf from his face to speak briefly. “We are professionals, and today we were able to show it.” STEVEN STRASSER with ELAINE SCIOLINO. Slease 200008107: CHASRDPYE“OB7esRbUOTBOZ 7000S NEWSWEEK/FEBRUARY 8, 1982 t ‘s ‘ Bert eh Serer ae es