The Times Great War Letters: Correspondence during the First World War. James Owen
In the official statement setting out the Government scheme we find the following paragraph, “Any woman who by working helps to release a man, or to equip a man, for fighting does national war service. Every woman should register who is able and willing to take employment.”
This is in fact an appeal to every able-bodied woman, not bound by family ties, to enlist in industrial war service. That women have forestalled this appeal is shown by the fact that one society alone, the Women’s Emergency Corps, received 10,000 offers of personal service during the first two weeks of the war. Women doctors, interpreters, chauffeurs, motorcyclists, gardeners, omnibus conductors, omnibus and taxi-cab drivers, lift women, &c., were ready to qualify for men’s posts during the war, so as to release men for military service. That this service has not been largely utilized up to the present is attributed to the attitude of men workers, and not to the lack of response among women.
Lord Kitchener recently said, “I feel strongly that the men working long hours in the shops by day and by night, week in and week out, are doing their duty for their King and country in a like manner with those who have joined the Army for active service in the field, and I am glad to be able to state that his Majesty has approved that where service in this great work of supplying the munitions of war has been thoroughly, loyally, and continuously rendered, the award of a medal will be granted on the successful termination of the war.”
To women workers engaged in war service at home, the cessation of hostilities will bring a grave dislocation of employment, and the sacrifice of their ordinary duties, for work which will necessarily only be temporary, should meet with some public recognition. It would be a cause for satisfaction among women to know that official recognition will not be denied to those women who, in the words of the Board of Trade, “by working, help to release a man, or to equip a man, for fighting.” The present emergency and the Government’s appeal to women form a propitious occasion for creating a precedent in the bestowal of honours in which other countries have already set us an example. In Russia all honours and decorations are conferred on women doing men’s work, even the war medal is conferred on women, and King Albert of Belgium has recently bestowed the Order of Leopold on the women members of one of our field ambulances. In these circumstances it would amount to an invidious distinction were women rendered ineligible for the Industrial War Medal and an announcement as to the Government’s intentions would be welcomed by women in general.
Yours faithfully,
CONSUELO MARLBOROUGH
GERMANY AND ENGLAND AT WAR: AN AMERICAN COMPARISON
20 March 1915
SIR,—ON A PREVIOUS occasion you permitted me, an American and fervent supporter of the Allies, to have the honour of addressing the readers of The Times. I trust that you will now allow me to compare a few impressions received during the past few weeks in Germany and Austria with those I have since received in London.
I possess the average American’s loathing of the military government of Germany; but, none the less, I must confess to admiration for the marvellous manner in which that government, often by specious methods I have no doubt, has united the German people and its Austrian and Hungarian allies. To arrive in England and find your upper class discussing horse-racing and some of your workpeople on strike comes as a cold douche to an enthusiast for your cause like myself.
The Germans are singularly well informed as to what is happening in England. It seems to me that their newspapers are more frank about the whole war than yours, while among the upper and official class it is fairly obvious that private communications reach Germany from England with great speed, whether by letter or by word of mouth I am unable to say. The universal impression in Germany is that there is no enthusiasm for the war in England. Fellow-citizens who were here at the period of your Boer War tell me that the enthusiasm of that time was splendid and contagious. Germans are under the impression that the English are afraid of this war. That is obviously quite untrue. On the other hand, there is, unquestionably, much complacency here. It does not seem to an outside observer that your men and women are doing their utmost to bring this conflict to a successful issue. The Germans, as you are probably aware, are under the belief that the British Empire is practically at their mercy. Nevertheless, they are straining every nerve, by land, by sea, by uniting their people, by active diplomacy in neutral countries, to win decisive victory. Among the official class in Germany such optimism does not reign, though your labour troubles are without doubt reviving hopes that were extinguished by the unsuccessful march on Paris.
Is it not possible for some of your great public orators to awaken the middle class—the “commuters” as we call them—and the democracy? Within the past 48 hours I have met one man of business who told me that he “never read the war news,” and another who obviously took very little interest in the war. He admitted it was a serious matter, but believed that the Germans were on the eve of collapse from a shortage of food, copper, and cash.
It would be absolutely impossible to find people of this kind in Germany. You may laugh at their hate campaigns and cunning tricks to arouse the world’s sympathies by pretending that they are being starved by Great Britain, but you must confess that their strenuous and enthusiastic unity and the sober preparation of the nation for a long, long struggle is an example to the world. We went through something like the same thing at home in 1861. We prepared even more slowly than you, but before the end of the war, which had been expected to last three weeks, but which did not terminate until 1865, we had in the field practically the whole of our manhood down to the age of 17, aye, and even younger than that. That is the case with Germany. There lads of 15 and 16 are drilling and preparing, and, outside the horrible newly-rich class in Berlin, the German women are all engaged in immense preparations for the comfort of the troops and the reception of the vast army of wounded they are expecting.
I trust these observations from an American of purely British descent on both sides will not be taken amiss.
Yours faithfully,
D. T. C.
EXEANT SWEATERS
24 March 1915
SIR,—MAY I INVADE YOUR columns, for the last time, to say that as I now have enough sweaters on hand to fulfil all promises made, and as we are within measurable distance of warmer weather, I propose to close my work? Your readers should on no account take this as any kind of ex cathedra statement that no more warm clothing is needed. I only state the fact that I have enough to carry on my small venture till the warmer weather comes. There are, however, some things which are wanted throughout the year—e.g., socks, shirts, and all cheerful little things like cigarettes, packets of tobacco and sweets, writing-paper, other personalia, and small medicaments. Any of the above I am willing to continue sending weekly throughout the summer. I venture further to suggest that it is a pity for ladies to let the “knitting habit” die down. Should we not do well to begin forming laagers of warm things for the autumn and winter? It is neither difficult nor pessimistic to prophesy a revival of the need for comforts towards the close of the year. When peace is signed, Israel cannot return to his tents in an afternoon.
I render account of my sweaters:—10,443 is the number to-day, the miscellanea kindly sent to make filling for the sacks bringing the figures close up to 20,000. We are told that this supplement of sweaters, &c., has been of some sort of use and comfort to you, soldier and sailor too, while you have been training, watching, fighting, and dying for us, the long wet winter through. E superabundantia cordis os loquitur—we are honored indeed that this should have been so. I thank my helpers for much unlooked-for kindness. They send me the sweaters and pay for the dyeing. I merely win the wager and get the credit. So no more of sweaters—till the autumn.
Yours faithfully,
JOHN PENOYRE