Emannuelle, Max's little baby in Chulumani in 2007, just less than two months old. We all observed the mother's milk inside the bottle and how much fat it contains.

Massimo Gianinni

I write a tribute to Max in English just because the poem that follows is in the same, and reminds me so much of him. Max is a warrior of life. He is committed to surviving and while in the most typical Italian way, gruffing and grouching, finds a way to selflessly show a grandiose heart. Yes, few in my path have been as selfless to others, and as willing to put themselves in harms way for others like Max. Max is a true “Indiana Jones”, a true super hero, a true Greek tragic hero in the best sense of all of these. His courage, even when facing insurmountable odds, is remarkable. He is the six hundred in the poem that follows. It is just that survivable quality that I cherish, and that makes me want to be like him. Carry on brave soldier, brave friend. I take my hat off to you when you pass, and secretly bow in to you in my minds eye. In this next qoute Max is the guy that fearlessly dares:
“It is not because things are difficult that we do not dare; it is because we do not dare that things are difficult.” – Seneca

The poems I dedicate to Max:

The Thousandth Man

The Charge Of The Light Brigade