THE HOME ARMY

Auckland Star, Volume LXXII, Issue 238, 8 October 1941, Page 5

THE HOME ARMY

WOMEN WHO WORK

' KNITTING, SEWING

VAST PATRIOTIC SCHEME

(NO. I) Behind New Zealand's fighting men is a vast army, mostly of Women, who work quietly, constantly, patiently; without reward and expecting none, unknown by the public, unknown even by the men they so unobtrusively aid, they work volunt?.<-ily in rooms in the city, in each other's homes, in draughty halls. Nobody knows how many they number. There is no roll kept. There must be many hundreds, perhaps thousands. But the work they do is prodigious.

New Zealand's army, navy and air force owes a great debt to this devoted band. Perhaps the soldier, sailor, or airman does not know that the comfortable woollen socks he is wearing were made laboriously on the unaccustomed needles of some woman in Auckland whom he has never seen and probably never will; or the scarf round his neck was knitted by a schoolgirl who lavished more care and time on it than if it Were for herself.

The ramifications of this home army are extraordinary. For administration purposes they are grouped under the Auckland Metropolitan Patriotic Committee, but it is doubtful whether the committee knows the size of the invisible legion it commands.

Take one small branch, the Navy League. When war broke out it threw its vast energy into patriotic work? its 1000 members turned their attention exclusively try the welfare ®f those whose trade of tbe sea fcecane suddenly more dangerous.

Here was scope for a mighty work, and a mighty work is being done. No .recruit to the navy or Fleet Air Arm leaves these shores without one of the familiar blue haversacks of the Navy League in his sea kit. And each of these contains a pull-over, pair of gloves, balaclava, scarf, two pairs of socks, a pair of sea-boot stockings, a handkerchief and that] necessary adjunct, a hussif. i

This takes honest, hard graft, for pull-overs are not knitted in an hour or a day, nor are socks. But the women have got it all beautifully arranged. A "circle" may be something for husbands to laugh about during peace, but in time of war a sewing circle or knitting circle is entitled to respect. Take) handkerchiefs, for instance. The navy boys get through a few thousand of these, so the women buy the material by the hundred yards, hem, wash and iron it themselves.

Flannel shirts take time and skill. There are women, bending for long hours over machines, who v do the work for nothing. Even a hussif takes time and work to make and stock, for such trifles as safety pins,] bootlaccs, razor blades, needles and linen thread are not conjured out of thin air. Spinning Raw Wool Any surplus of these articles is sent to the Navy League in London, I forming a pool upon which New Zealand naval men, also English ratings, can draw to fill depleted kits. Then there is the circle which makes fine garments of honest New Zealand material for the dependents of sailors ift Britain; one which collects books and magazines for New Zealanders on lonely outposts; another which provides comforts for those on trawlers in New Zealand waters; others again which raise funds by entertainments; provide for those in need among the dependents of ratings in New Zealand.

At least 30 women are engaged in spinning raw New Zealand wool into the yarn from which seaboot stockings are knitted. All over the city there are groups of women sewing, knitting, weaving. There are those who criticise "bridge" and similar afternoons. But from these come the sinews of war.

The output is growing in volume. Nearly 5000 pairs of socks are needed] each year and knitting a sock is no joke. Bat-fram' the scattered com- 1

mittees a constant stream comes forward. Even men are knitting (and making a jolly good job of it).

Most of the women have husbands, sons, brothers, at the war. Some are casualties; some killed. But on the home front the work goes on constantly.

The names of this army of women will never appear in print. They are as anonymous as the rank and file of the N.Z.E.F. But that does not trouble them, for the patient, painstaking tasks that they undertake are not prompted by any empty desire for that ephemeral thing, personal publicity.