The Secret Army
Graham Bebbington remembers the munitions workers of World War II, who risked their lives daily to support the Allied victory
Graham Bebbington on the munitions workers of the Second World War
DESPITE the fact that more women worked in the country’s munitions factories than in any other Home Front role during World War II, it was not until 2012 that they were represented in the annual Whitehall Cenotaph ceremony on Remembrance Day. This army of nearly two million munitionettes toiled in dangerous conditions, playing a vital role in supplying bombs, bullets and shells for the armed forces during the conflict. Their story is one of unsung heroism, yet they have still to gain recognition by the award of a medal or badge.
Following World War I, Britain’s armed forces had been reduced in strength and most of its munitions factories disposed of. But, because of the growing menace of Germany, plans were put in place for a full re-armament programme, including the construction of new ordnance factories.
These had previously been in the south-east of the country, the principal factory being at Woolwich, but with the advances in aviation there was an increased likelihood of aerial bombardment. Many different chemicals were used in the production of munitions, making the risk of a bombing raid an alarming proposition.
It was decided therefore that the new plants should be located out of range of enemy aircraft. These new sites needed road and rail links, but their existence and construction had to be shrouded in secrecy. The sites would need to be in
“safe” areas, not easily visible from the air and some distance from urban areas, whilst still being accessible to labour supply.
Some also contend that the locations for the factories at Swynnerton in Staffordshire and Aycliffe in County Durham were chosen on account of them often being shrouded in mist.
Not all new ordnance factories were purpose-built. A former industrial plant which had been derelict for some time was considered ideal, an example being the shipyard of William Beardmore & Co on the Clyde.
Production continued at Woolwich, but, as predicted, the plant suffered a series of bombing raids, killing more than 100 people, with more than 700 injured. The decision to avoid building the new factories in the south-east was deemed to have been the correct one.
There were various categories of factories planned to meet the precise needs of the armed forces and their munitions, but the most dangerous were the filling factories where bombs and shell cases were filled with combustible explosive material by hand. The Swynnerton factory fell into this category, eventually becoming the largest munitions producing plant in Europe, with security fencing measuring 15 miles.
At its peak, some 33,000 personnel were employed, 25,000 of whom were women working on a two-shift system covering 24 hours, six days a week. It is worth noting here that a confidential report to HM Cabinet on the factory commented that “when one takes into account travelling time one realises how arduous the working conditions were!” Subsequently, an alternative three-shift was introduced.
In April 1939, having required every male between the ages of 18-41 to register for service in the armed forces unless in a reserved occupation, it soon became clear that women would urgently be required to replace them.
The munitions industry was desperately in need of extra workers, despite early successful recruitment campaigns. Thus, in 1941, Ernest Bevin, then Minister of Labour, announced a plan to mobilise masses of women to perform essential jobs in industry, first calling up women aged 20 and 21. Eventually this was extended to the age of 50. Single women were categorised as “mobile” and under the emergency powers could be “directed” to anywhere in the country where labour was required. It was unusual then for young women to move away from home, and war work gave them new-found economic independence.
In some instances, it resulted in female munitions workers’ wage packets exceeding that of
their fathers. And it wasn’t unheard of for a woman who had previously been in service to quadruple her pay!
The work force of the country’s munitions establishments was recruited from almost every background, with the majority having little or no experience of factory life. Some found munitions difficult and tried to run away, not fully appreciating they were conscripts.
These were treated as “deserters”, and when apprehended they were brought before the court and sentenced accordingly, with some being jailed for short periods.
Adjusting to shift patterns, clocking in and presenting a security pass before going into the factory’s “shift house” (or changing-room) was also a trial to many. They had to remove all clothing and jewellery to change into special overalls and turbans before proceeding to their workshops.
Stringent safety rules forbade workers taking in metal items such as hair clips, suspenders and rings, as even a small spark could result in an explosion, and they had to wear rubber-soled shoes. Contraband included cigarettes, lighters and matches, and spot checks were carried out on the factory floor. Any breach of the rules could, and did, lead to fines and even imprisonment.
Part of induction for all personnel at munitions factories included talks on the need for day-to-day routine safety and the emphasis was that it was everyone’s responsibility. Also, there was the all-important issue of security. No questions were to be asked in the factories and official information was issued only as needed.
Many different chemicals are used in weaponry and bomb manufacture.
Fulminate of mercury, used in detonators to start the triggering process, was a harmless-looking brown powder, but was extremely dangerous. The tiny devices could only be filled by hand, but the powder was sensitive to friction.
As a result, new operatives had to take dexterity tests. A very steady hand and so much concentration was needed during filling that operatives were forbidden to talk, and toilet visits required permission from the supervisor. Contact with mercury also caused conjunctivitis and dermatitis, and other issues involved operatives experiencing breathing and digestive problems and teeth falling out.
Also, some operatives became victims of Tetryl, a chemical used in filling shells. Not only was this a very hazardous process as its sensibility made it high risk for causing accidents and explosions, but it also caused workers to suffer from “toxic jaundice”.
Many developed yellow skin, earning them the light-hearted nickname of “canaries”, although the condition was no laughing matter as the chemical could cause breathing problems and even premature death.
Issues with skin problems and treatments are in some records. Reports of accidents are not so easy to locate, but they make gruesome reading. A Swynnerton operative, on her last day before taking maternity leave, was the victim of an explosion. This resulted in the loss of her sight and both hands. Miraculously, she learned to cope with the aid of her husband and St Dunstans and went on to have further children.
An employee in the Swynnerton laboratory died in an explosion, which also caused serious injury to a colleague. She required painful plastic surgery over three years, and was left deaf and suffering from tinnitus. Claims for compensation were unsuccessful, however, because: “injuries sustained during the manufacture of ammunition for use in combating the enemy cannot be regarded as having been caused by enemy action”!
No-one appreciated the production of the munitions workers more than Field Marshal Bernard Montgomery (Monty). “It used to be a great source of inspiration to me during the war to visit the ordnance factories and see the energy and enthusiasm the men and women brought to bear upon their tasks,” he said in 1946.
“They came from all walks of life, but they were united by a common knowledge and a common determination. They knew that we needed munitions, more munitions, and ever more munitions. They were determined that we should get them, and we did!”
During the past few years we have seen well-deserved recognition for veterans of WWII, including the Women’s Land Army, the Women’s Timber Corps and the Bevin Boys.
The Cabinet in 1944 was informed that “Filling of detonators is one of the most dangerous, skilful, and honourable wartime jobs any person could have.”
Some 80 years on it is difficult to imagine why the nation has not shown its appreciation to those brave women who daily risked their lives to provide vital munition supplies which contributed to the allied victory. Graham Bebbington is the author of ROF Swynnerton — Bullets, Bombs & Roses, £9.95 (Churnet Valley Books, Leek, Staffs. Tel: 01538 399033).