WW1’s accidental heroes Explosive stories of Gretna factory workers finally told
The secret lives of workers at HM Factory Gretna are being brought vividly to life at Eastrigg’s Devil’s Porridge Museum
CURLS carefully tucked into their bonnets, their bras, corsets and belts checked for metal and pockets scanned for matches, a brave generation of unsung heroes marched to the frontline.
At a sprawling factory on the border between Scotland and England – many miles from the Western Front – young women worked elbow deep in toxic chemicals that made their teeth wobble and hair drop out, gave them pounding headaches and, in some cases, exploded in their faces.
There were lost limbs, broken bones, burns – and a carefully controlled life of searches, restrictions and definitely no canoodling allowed.
More than 30,000 people worked at HM Factory Gretna, most employed in the treacherous task of stirring the “devil’s porridge” – the name given by Sherlock Holmes creator Sir Arthur Conan Doyle to the explosive paste made there and destined to fill countless First World War shells.
As well as nearly 12,000 women who had travelled from around the UK to “do their bit” for the war effort, there were more than 10,000 navvies who built the huge factory and workers’ homes – laying the foundations for the community of Gretna in the process.
Alongside were hundreds of explosive experts, engineers, chemists and medics, drafted from across the Commonwealth to oversee the production of up to 800 tons of cordite RDB a week at the largest munitions factory on the planet.
The task was vital to victory but unlike the soldiers, politicians and military leaders, the sacrifices made behind the gates of the highly-controlled factory would scarcely be acknowledged: details of those who worked there were not even recorded and kept.
Bizarre stories
NOW, however, the names and lives of more than 1,200 of the Gretna factory’s workers have been uncovered by a massive research project that has spanned the world and, in some cases, uncovered moving – and some bizarre – stories behind its unsung heroes.
They include the unexpected link between the factory and one of Australia’s best-known products, Vegemite, courtesy of Gretna chemist Cyril Callister.
Born in the tiny community of Chute, in central Victoria, Callister had completed his chemistry BSc and was working for a soap manufacturer in early 1915, when he enlisted with the Australian Imperial Force to fight in the
First World War. Instead of the trenches, he found himself posted to southwest Scotland.
“A lot of men who ended up at the munitions factory came from Australia and Canada,” explains Dr Laura Noakes, pictured right, research assistant at The Devil’s Porridge Museum in Eastrigg, dedicated to telling the story of HM Factory, Gretna. “When it was found they had a science or chemistry background, they were diverted to the Ministry of Munitions where it was felt their skills were more suited.
“It’s possible a lot really wanted to fight and would have been disappointed to end up in Greta.”
Amateur sleuths
THE Miracle Workers project was launched last March and has so far involved more than 50 amateur detectives dotted around the world, trawling countless online records, letters and documents in the hope of matching them with scant details salvaged from HM Factory Gretna.
The volunteers’ research uncovered details of Callister working at Gretna in 1918. While there, he met and married local girl Katherine Hope Mundell.
The newlyweds returned to Australia. Trade had been disrupted due to hostilities and with Marmite supplies severely affected, Callister was tasked with finding a solution. He went on to develop famed Australian yeast extract, Vegemite and new cheese, Kraft Walker.
There were extensive medical facilities at the factory because of explosions
Construction of HM Factory Gretna had been ordered by David Lloyd George, Minister of Munitions, amid concerns of a serious lack of ammunition for British soldiers in France.
The supersized factory stretched over nine miles from Dornock near Annan to Mossband in Cumbria, and was built during a manic 15 months.
Alongside were homes for workers, recreation facilities and two cinemas – which showed nothing too romantic for fear it could spark inappropriate relations between the male and female workers.