Jambusters

by Julie Summers

  After the initial days of fear and anxiety, evacuation, relocation, mobilisation and confusion, Britain settled down to wait and see what would happen. While the government had been advised and indeed believed that Hitler’s Luftwaffe would drop an enormous tonnage of bombs on cities and other targets within hours of the declaration of war, quite the opposite happened. There followed almost nine months of what became known as the Phoney War. The first deployment of troops to the continent was completed by mid-October, at which point the British Expeditionary Force comprised 158,000 men. Six months later it had doubled in size to 316,000. The biggest worry for the first batch of men was not fighting Germans but fighting the cold and boredom. The winter of 1939/40 was the coldest in forty-five years. Ruth Toosey’s brother-in-law, Major Philip Toosey, had been sent to Lille with his medium artillery regiment. He wrote later: ‘The winter was bitterly cold. The men lived in barns and I kept them busy by digging pits for the guns and building command posts on what was an extension of the Maginot Line. It was a pretty painful experience; before this we had always had permanent cook houses at camp and I well remember the many cooking problems and getting used to the atmosphere of living in the field.’ That Christmas his men received parcels sent not only from families but also from the Red Cross. These contained comforts such as gloves, socks, woollen helmets and scarves, which were very welcome. The WI had been busy knitting.

  Mass Observation, that brilliant window on everyday life, presented the most valuable of vignettes in its myriad reports, diaries, questionnaires and observations during the early years of the war. Set up in 1937 by three young men, anthropologist Tom Harrisson, poet and journalist Charles Madge, and film-maker Humphrey Jennings, its aim was to document and record everyday life in Britain through the eyes of ordinary people. They recruited some 500 people, who were untrained, to keep diaries and volunteers to work on questionnaires. The initial impetus was to record the public’s reaction to the abdication of Edward VIII but in August 1939 they asked the public to send them a day-to-day account of their lives in the form of a diary. They had in place observers who would continue to record their lives during this turbulent time. The value of these observations for historians is inestimable but even at the time Mass Observation’s research through questionnaires influenced government thinking. Famously, it was publicly critical of the Ministry of Information’s posters, including ‘Keep Calm and Carry On’, forcing a change of attitude and the production of more appropriate posters.

  Muriel Green, who wrote a diary for Mass Observation from August 1939, was the daughter of a garage and village shop owner in Norfolk. By Christmas she had become resigned to living in wartime, though nothing much had happened. Then on 27 December she and her sister heard an aeroplane overhead: ‘we both said at once, “I’m sure that’s a Nasty.” But we both stood and watched, making no attempt to take any precautions. About 5 mins later we heard more aeroplanes and Jenny rushed out and said she saw 3 Spitfires chasing over after the 1st plane.’ Muriel was eating her lunch, the dog was barking and jumping around and Mrs Green said she was going to go outside and see what was going on: ‘She said we might as well be killed while we were as excited as anytime.’

  Other women were less excited by the prospect of war. Mrs Street from Gravesend in Kent wrote: ‘I hate the blackout. It makes me feel uneasy. Everything is so dark and I can’t do anything for fretting for what might happen in the night.’ Stella Schofield, a full-time member of Mass Observation’s staff in 1939, wrote a report in January 1940 based on interviews she had carried out with women’s organisations in late 1939, in particular looking at the effect of the war on their membership. Her conclusions point to a two-fold reaction: the first that the impact of this war as against the last war was that women were affected from the outset. Women were fatalistic about the inevitability of war, even though by and large they opposed it.

  Inside their organisations women are more consciously critical, more questioningly aware of the war processes. They find themselves once more precipitated into world war by a man-monopolised society. It would be idle to speculate whether or not the present situation could have been avoided had women held executive government positions – there are, of course, women who believe this – but it is very much to the point to realise that, however unorganised the mass of women may be today, they were far less organised in the last war.3

  The second observation she made was that women accepted there would be change and that they would have to deal with it. Men had gone or were liable to go away to fight or defend; children had been evacuated or had arrived as evacuees; life had been disrupted from the day war was declared by blackout and air-raid warnings. Meeting huts and buildings had been taken over and the rhythm of life thoroughly interrupted and disrupted for almost every woman.

  While some women were understandably afraid, others, like Mrs Hurdle in Betchworth in Surrey, took action. She and her husband ran the busy village post office, which had the mail-sorting office and the telephone exchange within the building as well as the general stores. Mrs Hurdle was a loyal committee member of Betchworth WI and when she heard a rumour that the hall where they held their monthly meetings might be requisitioned she became very concerned about the survival of the WI’s lovely china, which was kept in a corner cupboard in the main hall. Mrs Hurdle’s daughter, Jean Bristow, told the story:

  It was very pretty blue and white china that had been donated by a member. My mother was a very positive character and, no doubt after consulting Madam President, came rapidly to the conclusion that, whatever was about to happen in regard to the hall, the china must be rescued promptly and put into much safer keeping for the duration. You will have guessed that Mother was not in the mood to be argued with. Darkness had already fallen and the china had to be rescued with all haste. There was no petrol and in the dark impossible to harness Peter the pony to the trap. The matter was urgent. Time was of the essence. My determined mother hit upon the idea of persuading Father to get between the shafts of the trap (I’ll bet he did as he was told!) and set out.

  Other members and friends had been urged to come along to help and when Mr Hurdle struggled to negotiate a steep, sharp bend called Parr’s Corner there were plenty of hands to help push the trap uphill towards the hall. They reached it safely, though with a great deal of huffing and puffing. The precious china was duly packed up and loaded for the return trip. This was altogether a more tricky journey as the trap was heavier and the road ran downhill so the main danger was of the cart racing out of control round the bend at Parr’s Corner. However, the bend was successfully negotiated and the china was saved. In the event the hall was not taken over but Jean Bristow found out sixty years later that the china had survived the war and been returned to the corner cupboard in the hall afterwards and was still in use.

  Meanwhile, back in London, the National Executive Committee was struggling with what the WI could and could not do in wartime. Not only had the WI taken a strong anti-war stand but enshrined in the constitution was the principle of non-sectarianism; it was out of respect for the beliefs of pacifist Quaker members that the executive decided to impose restrictions upon the participation of WIs in war work. In practice it meant that the WI could not support or fund any activity that might be construed as assisting the war effort. At the same time it was obvious that women would want to be involved in helping their country and Lady Denman suggested that there were other, practical ways in which they could help. ‘WIs can give and are giving the most valuable help with regard to plans for the reception of city children in the villages. It is also obvious that if the great disaster of war should overtake us, the authorities will look to the WIs to give their help in increasing food production and in looking after members of the WLA in addition to caring for evacuated town dwellers.’

  Lady Denman knew that the war represented one of the biggest challenges to the Women’s Institutes to date. They had to find a role and yet be in a position to continue with their determined crusa
de to improve rural life, as they had been doing for the last two decades. She sent a message to all institutes in October 1939, urging women to do their bit but not to let go of the spirit at the heart of the institutes:

  Germany is said to count on breaking our nerve. Every person who spreads an atmosphere of cheerfulness and quiet resolution at this time is helping to win the war. We are proud of the cause for which Britain is fighting, and those of us who are not called upon to endure the hardship of actual fighting, will be glad to feel that we have comforts to go without, difficulties to contend with in daily life, and that by meeting such troubles cheerfully and helping our neighbours to do so, we are taking our small share in winning the victory which we believe will come, but which will come only if the whole nation is ready to make willing sacrifice.4

  Most institutes agreed that keeping going was important and they went to great efforts to hold their meetings, often in temporary accommodation and on new days and at new times, all of which had to be discussed and agreed not only between the membership but also the village police, ARPs and anyone else who had a call on communal premises. As this was being organised in the countryside, Lady Denman was in touch with the government. She had received a letter from the War Office, written to all voluntary bodies on 1 September 1939, explaining that, in the event of war, a Ministry of Information would be set up with the remit to distribute information, instructions, appeals and advice.

  Lady Denman replied on 5 September 1939:

  The Women’s Institutes of England and Wales will I know be glad to cooperate with the Ministry of Information. There are WIs in 5600 villages, a network which covers the greater part of the rural areas and through them in their journal Home & Country the Ministry could disseminate information throughout the country areas . . . I am sure you will agree that using a Society with this large number of branches it is important to make arrangements to ensure that the greatest possible use is made of the organisation.5

  The person tasked with the responsibility of communicating government messages within the WI was the general secretary, Miss Farrer. The fourth general secretary to take up this paid post, the chief executive of the NFWI, she was the longest-serving (1929–59). She succeeded Inez Jenkins, who had moved to help Lady Denman to run the Women’s Land Army. The Hon. Miss Farrer, later Dame Frances, was born in 1895, the daughter of a senior civil servant, the second Lord Farrer. She was educated at St Andrew’s School, Scotland and at Newnham College, Cambridge, where she graduated in 1917 with a degree in Economics. During the last two years of the Great War she worked for the Forestry Commission and was introduced to the women’s movements. In the 1920s she travelled to India and returned via Baghdad, after which she renewed her ties with her WI and joined several other committees including the Colonial Social Welfare Committee, the National Savings Committee, the Women’s Group on Public Welfare and the Women’s Committee of the Economic Information Unit.

  Miss Farrer brought to her role of General Secretary a rigour and efficiency that earned her the respect of her colleagues and civil servants alike. She had a brisk style and a great sense of humour. She made a point of speaking to ministers on the telephone before breakfast. That way, she explained, she could be sure to reach them and get their attention. Getting government ministers’ attention was something that the WI excelled at and Miss Farrer was exceptionally good. Making use of her excellent family connections, she was able to help the National Executive as it became increasingly active in lobbying successive governments. She was an early founder member of her local WI in Abinger, near Dorking, set up in 1920. She was also a major shareholder in the Leith Hill Musical Competition, becoming the first chairman and president. Through her energies other local gentry became shareholders and Dorking Halls was built as a venue to hold the music festival. The buildings were opened in 1931 and Ralph Vaughan Williams was able to realise his dream of being able to stage Bach’s St Matthew Passion. Dorking Halls was commandeered by the Meat Marketing Board and the Army in 1939. (Sadly they were in such poor condition after the war that they could not be restored to their former glory.) In August 1939 Miss Farrer had a great deal on her mind, apart from Dorking Halls, as she cut short her summer holiday to return to the office and deal with the outbreak of war. On 25 August she wrote to Lady Denman:

  I came back on Thursday a little earlier than I had planned in case there were any emergency things to do. We have only a skeleton holiday staff here but luckily I found no urgent letters awaiting me. I have offered help to the LCC and the WVS but at present they can manage with their own staff. I could get no reply from the WLA so conclude there is no urgent work to be done there.

  I have had a most splendid holiday and feel lucky to have almost finished it before the crisis. Our ‘Dug Out’ and ARP preparations are all made and everyone here seems quite calm. I expect you are busy preparing for an inundation of children.6

  As there were no emergency calls on the WI that week, Miss Farrer drew up a letter to send to county chairmen which they then circulated in turn to their institute presidents. It was an efficient way of getting information shared at village level. She wrote:

  It seems clear that the NFWI will be of increasing service to the nation as war goes on. For a time, during the first period of dislocation, it may be necessary to drop a meeting. Everyone will be busy making major adjustments, dealing with evacuees, and settling down to conditions. Very soon, however, in addition to ordinary activities there will be a whole field of new work to cover, and the sooner this is planned the better.

  The letter went on to suggest that great efforts should be made to maintain WI meetings in the villages and ‘to welcome thereat the evacuated mothers’. She urged members to take the women and children into their bosom. ‘The social needs of mothers, teachers and children will make calls on the resourcefulness and ingenuity of every member. It is also hoped that members of the Land Army working in the neighbourhood will be given a warm welcome.’

  The WI archives have an almost complete set of the letters sent out by the county chairwomen or county secretaries to the presidents as a result of Miss Farrer’s communication. These reflect the differing issues that were raised in each county as a result of the outbreak of war. Cumberland, for example, was much more concerned with food production than Berkshire, which was inundated with evacuees. Northumberland had many mining villages in the south of its enormous county and they knew they would be targeted in aerial attacks, which they later were. Their focus was to concentrate on assisting their local hospitals.

  Mrs Skimming, chairman of Buckinghamshire Federation, was heartened by the news that the government had written to the National Federation asking institutes to maintain as active a programme as possible saying: ‘We attach great importance to the normal continuation of all types of classes and lectures, however small the group. This recognition by the government of the important work done by even the smallest institutes should be a great incentive and encouragement to us to carry on with renewed vigour.’

  The letter she wrote to her presidents listed advice on any number of subjects, from salvage for hospitals to knitting patterns, recipes, speakers, blood transfusion services, books and library facilities, music, gardening, harvesting, keeping livestock and what to do with children with verminous heads. She was able to report that Beaconsfield, Bledlow Ridge, Chalfont St Peter, The Lee and Taplow had started working parties for the Red Cross while other institutes, such as Haddenham and Iver, had offered a variety of entertainments and diversions for evacuee mothers with young children and unaccompanied schoolchildren. West Wycombe had opened its church hall on Sundays so that parents visiting from London could see their children there rather than in the child’s billet, so as not to cause difficulties between parents and hosts. Stokenchurch WI was farsighted in giving some of the evacuee boys spades and forks and was delighted to report that they ‘are busy cultivating a piece of spare ground with terrific keenness’.

  County newsletters and Home & Count
ry were bursting with advice for increasing cultivation in the garden. Cumberland’s agricultural committee offered advice about planting spring cabbages ‘now in case there is a shortage’ while members were urged to listen in to the radio programme on ‘Vegetable Crops in War-Time’. While most institutes were advised by their county secretaries to dig up every available piece of land, one or two advised against complete destruction of their flower beds. ‘Now that the country is at war it is up to all WI members to do their utmost to produce from their gardens and allotments as much of the perishable foodstuffs as possible. Do not, however, in the first rush of energy, tear up every flower border and destroy plants. Many beds, such as narrow front gardens, are not suitable for vegetables, and we shall always need flowers to bring relief from the nervous strain and stress of war-time life,’7 wrote one chairman.