The women’s sewing circles that helped Britain win the war
From knitting army uniforms to darning socks for sailors, KATE THOMPSON looks back on the make do and mend attitude that united the Home Front
IT IS 1940 and a heavily rationed, blacked- out and war- weary Britain spends every night bracing itself for the sickening wail of the air- raid siren. But in underground shelters across the country, over the low throb of enemy aircraft and the thudding of bombs, another more reassuring sound emerges: the steady clicking of knitting needles.
Today sewing and knitting groups are enjoying a renaissance thanks to programmes such as BBC Two’s The Great British Sewing Bee but during the Second World War knitting was more than just a cool hobby, it was crucial. One in 10 British women belonged to the Women’s Voluntary Services or the WVS as it was more commonly known.
Headed up by the indomitable Lady Reading, a close friend of the Queen, the group quickly became a key part of the Home Front. Through sewing circles women were able to stave off the boredom and fear of the war and contribute in meaningful ways.
ALL levels of society started Knitting for Victory, from factory girls and offi ce workers to duchesses. Sewing circles popped up in dusty church halls, ARP posts and stately homes. Even the Queen ran one from the blue drawing room of Buckingham Palace. The nation knitted as one.
“Any woman worth her salt was knitting and sewing back then,” says seamstress Henrietta Keeper, 88, from Stepney, east London. “It may have seemed insignifi cant but it was about doing your bit.”
Wartime could be very lonely for a woman whose husband was away serving and whose children had been evacuated. “Having a regular place to go with likeminded women supporting you was a lifeline,” says Matthew McMurray, archivist for the WVS, now known as the Royal Voluntary Service, a charity which supports older people. But these circles didn’t just serve as a pastime, they were crucial to the war effort.
“Sewing circles were known as work parties as they produced millions of socks, balaclavas, pullovers, gloves and general comfort items for the troops,” says Matthew. One particular group that benefi ted from their efforts were sailors serving on board minesweepers in the freezing waters off the British Isles.
“Women would slip little notes into the socks they had knitted which went down well with the sailors,” says Matthew.
“The WVS were also the offi cial sock darners to the British Army and Navy, with more than three million items mended annually. They set up and ran groups teaching servicemen how to mend and repair their uniforms. It was a wonderful way to boost morale. The women felt they were doing their bit and the sailors freezing in Arctic conditions felt they had a Home Front worth fighting for.”
In Hastings alone there was an industrious branch that churned out 2,586 items in just two months.
There were hundreds of volunteers working over three fl oors – knitting on the ground fl oor, sorting hospital supplies on the first fl oor and making and mending clothes on the second.
When the British Army asked them to sew patches on to the elbows of 66,500 jungle jerseys, they got the job done.
“You also have to remember that wool was hard to come by,” says Matthew. “The government did provide some but the WVS also organised wool drives to raise money for the wool and other material.
“They came up with ingenious ways of raising money too. One group even managed to get their hands on a banana, unheard of in the war, which they raffl ed off.”
When the Blitz began in September 1940 the sewing circles also turned their attention to providing clothing for the Home Front. “They produced everything from blankets for first- aid posts to baby clothes. They handed out wool via shelter marshals so that people sheltering underground from the bombs could put their time to good use,” says Matthew.
Seamstress Sally Flood, 90, from Whitechapel, east London, agrees. “Everyone knitted, sewed and made their own clothes back then. The Blitz and rationing made them even more resourceful.”
No sooner had the Blitz finished in May 1941 than clothes rationing was introduced, forcing women to be even more thrifty and ingenious. “Our members compensated by turning adult clothes into items for children – felt hats became slippers and old blankets were transformed into dresses and coats,” says Matthew. In 1943 the WVS set up clothing exchanges, which were a lifeline for parents struggling to dress their growing children.
Victory in Europe was announced in May 1945 but 71 years later the women’s legacy lives on. “The women who possessed such skill at their fingertips will sadly not be around much longer to teach us those arts so it’s wonderful that we are embracing sewing and knitting with such relish today,” says Matthew.
“Now it’s probably more expensive to buy wool than a new top. Fashion is fast, disposable and cheap but luckily there is a growing urge to revel in the glow of nostalgia.”
Secrets Of The Sewing Bee by Kate Thompson is out today ( Pan Macmillan, £ 6.99). To order call the Express Bookshop on 01872 562 310 or visit expressbookshop. co. uk