French Polishing the Brass

A saxophone is a brass instrument.
And in the olden days before acrylic lacquers,
brass instruments had to be regularly polished
if they were to retain a shiny golden luster.

And it you were a musician in an infantry regimental band,
you spent a lot of time keeping your musical equipment in good order.
It was an unusual activity for a soldier yet odd enough
that decades ago an enterprising French publisher
decided that a view of bandsmen
polishing their brass instruments
deserved to be remembered on a postcard.

The scene shows seven French bandsmen
sitting on their barrack room beds
and diligently buffing out the blemishes on their instruments –
tubas, trumpets, a baritone saxophone, and a snare drum.
On the wall behind them is a shelf
with their carefully folded dress uniforms and instrument bags.

As a horn player I know how tedious it is
to polish brass plumbing.
But I have no idea how they managed
to keep the tarnish grease off of their white fatigue uniforms!
Presumably some orderly in the laundry unit
was tasked with cleaning their trousers and jackets.

This postcard was sent on 14 April 1909
to Monsieur and Madame Delmare
of  Arcueil-Cachan, a commune about 5.3 km (3.3 miles)
south of the center of Paris.

Arcueil is a very ancient place name derived
from nearby Roman aqueducts that once carried water
into Lutetia, the city that preceded modern Paris.
Today Arcueil and Cachan are listed as separate communes.

* * *

Unlike the formal groups of British or German military bands,
photos of French bandsmen often exhibit a more lighthearted disposition.

This next postcard shows a group
of French infantry band musicians
smiling and clowning for the camera.

The men's good humor is as much an expression
of the French love of musical playfulness
as it is a sign of their military esprit de corps.

The band belongs to the  120e régiment d'infanterie
as indicated by the number badge fastened to their collar.
Judging by the gleam of sunlight on their instruments
they were very proficient at polishing brass.
Perhaps there was a service medal for that?

The 21 musicians are posed outdoors in a woodland park.
I think the faint slash of red ink above the cymbal player
is the mark of the man who sent the postcard
as the back is partly marked in red too
with 120 RI for the regiment
and the date of Juni 1913.

The card is postmarked 20/21 June 1913
and was sent by the cymbalist Emil
to Monsieur and Madame Biberon,
who were perhaps his parents,
living at 33 Rue de la République, Verberie.
This small town is in the Oise department
in northern France about 45 miles northeast of Paris.
  
By September of the following year Verberie
was the site of heavy fighting
as French and British forces
struggled to stop the invading German army.
In 1914 the 120e régiment d'infanterie
was reorganized as part of the 320e régiment d'infanterie.

Two grinning trumpet players lying at the front of the band
hold a chalkboard with a clue where the photograph was taken.
 
Maisons-Laffitte
1913
Les Engagés ~ the Engaged (?)

Maisons-Laffitte is a suburb of Paris
about 18.2 km (11.3 mi) northwest from the city center.
In 1913 there was a military base there
which was likely where this photo was taken,
perhaps as a reward for Les Engagés (recruits?)
who had finished their training.
 

In 1918 during the last year of the war,
Maisons-Laffitte was the location chosen
for an incredible project to fool the German zeppelins
who were targeting Paris with nighttime bombing.
An ambitious scheme was devised
to create a decoy Paris landscape in Maisons-Laffitte
that would lure the German pilots away from the real Paris
with fake lights, streets, and buildings.
Situated on a similar bend of the River Seine
Maisons-Laffitte was less populated then
allowing the project to have very large and elaborate,
almost theatrical, constructions
that imitated the Parisian cityscape visible from the air.

Fortunately the war ended before the project
was ever finished or tested,
but I suspect that the parkland where the band is posed
was destined to be part of this clever hoax.

This is my contribution to Sepia Saturday

 where a room with a view and a bed
is always available.