Tuesday, June 24, 2014

La Storia del Podestà (History of the Fascist Town Mayor)

Now that I've completed a replica of this Podestà uniform for the 'town battle' at the upcoming March on Rome event, it seemed appropriate to share what I know about this mayoral officer.

In 1927 the office of mayor (sindaco) was replaced by that of Podestà (magistrate, more or less). The Podestà wielded more power than a mayor as he was also a police official as well as a judge of sorts. Other than that, he was a simple functionary who was expected to act within the law and according to the directives of the national government. I'm fairly certain that Podestà was an appointed office (not elected by the people being governed).

Small communities of less than 5,000 inhabitants were the first to change over to this new municipal system. The rest of the nation soon followed, with the exception of Rome, which retained a unique form of administration headed by a governor. In addition to the Podestà, communities of more than 20,000 inhabitants were assigned a Vice Podestà and communities of more than 100,000 were authorized two.

To be appointed to either office a candidate had to meet two sets of requirements:

Generic:

  • Be an Italian citizen with full civil rights.
  • Be married or a widower.
  • Be of good moral and political character.
  • Be of Aryan descent (after 6 Oct 1938).
Specific: Hold a diploma in the classics, science, technology, law, or another field of study recognized by the Ministry of National Education.

The diploma requirement was waived for:

  • Veterans of WWI who had held the rank of Ufficiale or Sottufficiale commanding troops in a zone of occupation.
  • Other functionaries who had served at least six months as mayor, royal or prefect commissioner, or community secretary.
The last appointments to the position of Podestà occurred before Mussolini's 1943 ouster. However, according to Alberto Cifelli's I Prefetti del Regno nel Ventennio Fascista, a few of these officials continued to serve after the war; some were still in office well into the 1950s!

Monday, June 16, 2014

Nome di Battaglia (Battle Name)

In the autumn of ’43, a Jewish youth fled from Milano with his parents and sister and arrived at Lago d’Orta among partisans led by Filippo Maria Beltrami. The youth, who had just turned 18, introduced himself, “My name is Guido. We are Jewish. We arrived yesterday.” Guido continues: “From this introduction, it is certain, my name da partigiano was derived: Guido l’Ebreo.” At first, he was offended that the partisans would refer to him in much the same way as had the fascists. But before long he discovered that virtually no one among the partisans used his or her real first name, let alone surname, for obvious reasons. The simple act of calling out to one’s buddy during an action, using his real name, would put his family in danger.

The “birth” of a partisan and the leaving behind (for the most part) of community and family, happened via a rite of assimilation into this new world during which the recruit took a new identity; a nome di battaglia. At times imposed, but more often freely chosen, battle names served to seal away one’s real identity and to fulfill specific cultural and symbolic functions. These names often evoked thoughts of a new and fantastic universe where anything might be possible, a remarkable feat for people who had spent 20 years, often their entire life, under the boot of Fascism.

A few interesting statistics regarding the battle names of some 64,000 Piemontese partisans whose nomi di battaglia are known:
  • The 13 most popular names were typical Italian given names. The English given name Tom was 14th, Lupo (wolf) 15th, and Fulmine (lightning) came in at 16th.
  • Around 25% used their own given name (including diminutives) or a nickname.
  • Other names arose from literature, history, popular culture (especially American culture), and from animals.
  • Duplicate names were often handled by sequential numeration (Beppe II, Romeo XIV, etc.).
Names were also taken from words in the local dialect, from everyday expressions and exclamations, from foods, and from personal traits (real, imagined, hoped for, or downright satirical). One garibaldino operating in the vicinity of Lago Maggiore, described as tall, with a large forehead, bushy eyebrows, crooked teeth, and a long scar on one cheek was given the name “Frankenstein.”

Sunday, June 8, 2014

Vocabolario III (Vocabulary 3)

One of the camerati asked for an audio pronunciation guide for the military vocabulary words that I posted last June...


Enjoy - <<Castoro>>

Saturday, May 24, 2014

Cucina per 6 Ufficiali (Kitchen for six Officers)

Okay. So first off I'll admit that this isn't the likeliest of accessories for a partisan group...but it's just too handy and useful (not to mention period perfect and downright amazing) to let it be. It's a 75 pound, 12"x12"x30" box of aluminum and steel wonderment that provides the cooking and dining gear necessary to keep six Italian officers reasonably well-fed. All that's missing is a heat source and the food itself.

I purchased the kitchen in the photo in early August 2013 and it arrived in time to accompany us to Operation Mountain Victory at Ft. Carson, Colorado. As purchased, the box was sound but in poor cosmetic shape; it had been repainted multiple times and its proper stenciling was long gone. My research, such as it was, suggested that these cases were originally painted a medium brown, so I performed a quick restoration including making the stencil to re-label the face. Note that at some point, many of these sets were repainted green, but the area around the stenciling was left brown so as to not have to redo the lettering.

The contents are nothing short of amazing! There are five cooking vessels plus a coffee pot, containers for coffee, sugar, and salt, a small strainer, cheese grater, and bottles for oil and vinegar (the containers for salt and vinegar are glass lined to stave off corrosion). Add to that a complete set of cooking, cutting, and serving utensils including a corkscrew, old-school can opener, three salt-and-pepper shakers, and a beech cutting board. The place settings consist of six each plates, shallow bowls, coffee cups, drinking cups, knives, forks, and spoons (regular and demitasse), and six egg cups (soft-boiled eggs, anyone?) 85 pieces all told, and not counting the box or the legs!

Legs? Yep! If you empty the contents you'll find four legs that can be slipped into sockets in the four corners of the open box. Lift and flip the box, and voilà! a handy 24"x30" table. Oh, and the large pot - the one with the lid in the photo - has a built-in colander to help you extract the pasta without losing one strand of spaghetti. Had the Italians put this much thought into their armaments things might have turned out markedly different.



While continuing my online cucina research last fall, I came upon another set for sale at Archie McPhee in Seattle. Odd, because I'd been in the store the previous May and seen nothing of the kind (but their photos dated from January). While the exterior was again rough, not a piece (other than the tiny padlock) was missing and many of the pieces were wrapped in their original paper packing. Even better, all of the original flatware, serving spoon and fork, kitchen knives, and can opener were present - these had been replaced with generic pieces by a previous owner of my first set.

Oddly, the six demitasse spoons carry the inscription "E.I." on the back of their handles. This is most certainly the abbreviation for "Esercito Italiano," the official name of the postwar Italian Army. I can only surmise that these sets were retained in the postwar army's inventory and the demitasse spoons must have been added at a later date. Still, I have little doubt that this set existed during the war. The National WWII Museum has a well-provenanced Kitchen for 3 Officers in its collection, suggesting that these were common pieces of gear for the Royal Italian Army.

Deine Papiere, bitte II (Your papers, please 2)

A little over a year ago, in part 1 of this topic, I discussed the importance of being able to substantiate one's identity in wartime Italy. To Americans this is a rather foreign subject as we are not used to carrying identification as a prerequisite for just being out in public. I'm not sure when carrying an ID became mandatory in Europe, but it was definitely required in Italy some years before the war broke out. Everyone over a certain age needed a Regno d'Italia Carta d'Identità (CdI or Kingdom of Italy Identity Card).

Most blue-collar workers and salaried employees belonged to the local Opera Nazionale Dopolavoro (OND or National Recreation Club), the government-sponsored leisure and recreational organization (read more at Wikipedia). The OND provided all sorts of sports, recreational, and cultural events and opportunities; it was a sort of 'YMCA on steroids.' You needed a separate ID for the OND and could purchase a sticker-stamp that would gain you admission to special cinema or live theater events. These IDs were issued annually.

The situation surrounding Fascist Party membership is a bit confusing. According to Wikipedia, in 1939 approximately 6 million of the 44 million Italians were members of the Partito Nazionale Fascista (PNF or National Fascist Party), yet the same article states that "...from 3 June 1938 those who did not join the party could not work." Did children and home-bound women really make up 86% of the population? Either way, following Mussolini's ouster and the establishment of the Repubblica Sociale Italiana (RSI or Italian Social Republic), the PNF was transformed into the Partito Fascista Repubblicano (Republican Fascist Party).

One characteristic all of these IDs had in common was a photograph of the cardholder. We 'moderns' sometimes forget that in days past, societal conventions tended to be much more formal than they are today. Having collected several vintage Italian IDs (and scans of others from ebay auctions), I've noticed that just about every one bears a photo in which the person made every attempt to look his or her best.


For il signore, this means white shirt, necktie, and usually a suit coat or jacket. Hair was combed and tended to be short (though not always) and beards were sometimes worn. La signora (signorina)typically wore a dark, conservative dress or blouse and skirt. Hair was typically worn up and away from the face.

The photograph was usually glued to the ID, sometimes reinforced with small staples in the corners. As a security measure, the photo on a CdI was sometimes attached with embossed rivets (as seen in the lady's portrait) or small metal grommets. After attachment to the CdI, the photo was almost always embossed to the card; another security measure. You can see the embossing in the lower left corner of the signorina's portrait and on the lower right of the signore's.