AMID THE ASHES OF CRANS-MONTANA, GIUSEPPE OPENED HIS EYES — BUT THE TRUTH WAITING FOR HIM IS MORE PAINFUL THAN THE FLAMES

After weeks in a medically induced coma, fighting for every breath at Milan’s Niguarda Hospital, 16-year-old Giuseppe Giola has finally woken up.

Doctors removed the breathing tube… the room went silent… and this brave Milan teen drew his first fragile, independent breath since the New Year’s Eve nightmare in Switzerland. A miracle amid unimaginable loss.

But as consciousness returned, so did the devastating reality.

The boy who raised the alarm and fought his way out now faces the crushing weight of survival guilt, grief, and questions no teenager should ever have to answer. His father says it’s “too hard” for him to know the full truth yet… but the moment is coming.

Full story:

In a bittersweet milestone amid one of Europe’s deadliest recent disasters, 16-year-old Giuseppe Giola has been extubated and is breathing on his own at Niguarda Hospital in Milan, marking a significant step in his recovery from the New Year’s Eve fire that claimed 40 lives at the Le Constellation bar in Crans-Montana, Switzerland.

The blaze erupted shortly after 1:26 a.m. on January 1, 2026, during crowded New Year celebrations in the upscale Valais ski resort. Swiss authorities confirmed 40 fatalities — including six Italians, many of them teenagers — and 116 injuries, with victims suffering severe burns, smoke inhalation, and trauma from the rapid spread of flames and possible explosion-like burst in the basement-level venue. The fire’s cause remains under joint Swiss and international investigation, with early reports pointing to potential issues involving pyrotechnics, overcrowding, or structural factors in the popular après-ski spot.

Giuseppe, a Milan teenager vacationing with friends and family, was among the lucky ones who escaped relatively early. According to his father, Valentino Giola, a 51-year-old real estate lawyer, Giuseppe was in the bar with a group including close friends Chiara Costanza, Achille Barosi, and Francesca Nota. In interviews with Italian media outlets such as Il Messaggero and Il Mattino, Valentino recounted how his son managed to get out amid the chaos, raised the alarm, and alerted others before being taken to a local hospital and later airlifted to Switzerland, then transferred to Niguarda’s renowned burn and intensive care units.

Upon arrival in Milan, Giuseppe was intubated as a precautionary measure due to smoke inhalation and minor burns to his face and hand. He spent days in intensive care alongside other severely injured Italians — part of a group of 11 transferred to Niguarda, where five were treated in the large burns center and others in critical condition. Hospital director Filippo Galbiati and anesthesia chief Giampaolo Casella described the clinical picture as “extremely serious,” with lung damage from toxic fumes posing the greatest long-term threat. One patient was later moved to Policlinico for specialized pulmonary care.

By mid-January 2026, updates shared via family and social media posts brought hope: Giuseppe was extubated, stabilized his oxygen levels and heart rate almost immediately, and began showing signs of gradual awakening. Doctors noted that disorientation and slow neurological recovery are normal after prolonged sedation and trauma. Valentino Giola expressed profound relief, calling it “a breath of hope” after weeks of anguish. He told reporters his son was “doing well after a busy day” and hoped for continued progress in building respiratory strength.

Yet this medical victory has opened a deeper wound. Giuseppe’s friends from the group — including Chiara and Achille — perished in the inferno. Achille, 16, reportedly exited safely at first but re-entered the bar in an attempt to help a girl, never to return. Survivors and family accounts describe him as courageous and thoughtful, not reckless. Chiara and others were trapped as flames spread rapidly. Giuseppe, separated during the panic, did not witness their final moments but learned of their deaths only gradually.

Valentino has shielded his son from the full details, stating it would be “too hard” for him to process while still recovering. “He’s coming back little by little from that awful day,” the father said. Giuseppe reportedly asked about his friends during early lucid moments, unaware of the extent of the loss. The emotional toll of survivor’s guilt — compounded by the knowledge that he raised the alarm but could not save everyone — looms large. Psychologists at Niguarda and support teams for trauma victims are involved in his care.

The broader tragedy has united Italy and Switzerland in mourning. Six young Italians died, prompting repatriation flights, state funerals, and visits from officials including Prime Minister Giorgia Meloni to Niguarda. Italian Foreign Minister Antonio Tajani met relatives in Crans-Montana, vowing justice. Swiss police identified all victims, including many minors, and opened probes into safety compliance. Milan Mayor Giuseppe Sala called for inspections of local venues, while survivors recounted “apocalyptic” scenes of screams, burning people, and miraculous escapes.

Other Italian survivors, like Manfredi Marcucci (16), shared similar stories of narrow escapes and ongoing recovery. Witnesses described chaos: one young woman lost sight of a friend mid-flight up stairs; another spoke of a “guardian angel” moment amid flames. The youngest victim was 14; half the dead were minors.

For Giuseppe and his family, the road ahead involves physical healing — potential scarring, lung rehabilitation — and profound psychological support. Niguarda’s team has emphasized that recovery from such events is long-term, with lung issues often proving more debilitating than visible burns.

As Giuseppe opens his eyes to a changed world, the “nightmare” described by survivors continues for many. His awakening symbolizes resilience amid ashes, but the truth of lost friends adds a layer of pain no medical miracle can erase. The Crans-Montana fire has left scars on bodies, families, and communities — and for one teenage survivor, the hardest part may be just beginning.