WOMEN’S WORK.

Waipawa Mail, Volume XXXVI, Issue 7749, 15 July 1916, Page 1

WOMEN’S WORK.

FOR THE WOUNDED SOLDIERS. TASKS OF THE IDLE RICH. An interesting story of what British women are doing to help the war-worn is told by Dr. Hilda Northcroft, a daughter of Mr H. W. Northcroft, formerly Resident Commissioner of the Cook Group. Dr. Northcroft is practising at Loughton, England, and she recently paid a short holiday visit to London. In describing what she saw to an Auckland relative she wrote:— “Really it is amazing the way women are working. Until the big Zeppelin raid in London in October, the Women’s Volunteer Reserve, or W.V.R. as they are called, were rather jeered at. People said it was only an excuse to get into khaki, and that they would be no use in an emergency, but that night it was the W.V.R. that did the work and had the wounded picked up and on the way to the hospital by the time the men's ambulance corps arrived on the spot, since when they have been accepted without further comment. I went over the War Supply Depot at 2, Cavendish Square, while I was up. It is truly wonderful. They have a huge house lent by Lord , and every room from attic to basement is used for the preparation of some commodity for the care and comfort of the wounded, and not the least wonderful part of it all is that it is run on entirely voluntary lines; all the workers are voluntary, and the funds are raised by private subscription amongst them and the visitors. “Perhaps I had better describe the different rooms and you will gain a better idea of the work. Well, right up in the attic is a cutting-out room, where they cut out the various garments required for the sewing-room, shirts, pyjamas, dressing-gowns, bedjackets, etc.; next is the splint-pad-ding room, where the wooden splints are padded and covered and fitted with marshproof (sort of waterproof stuff), covers laced on so that the splints themselves can be kept clean; then moss and pine dressing-rooms, where muslin bags of various shapes and sizes are filled with these special materials for dressing wounds; then a very large room, where ordinary surgical dressings are made, wool and gauze swabs, sponges, and so on, and another equally large where they were busy making bandages of every conceivable shape and size; next the sew-ing-room, where the garments were made, and then another rather fascinating room, where they use up all the old linen sent in. Old sheets, tablecloths, curtains, cretonne, nothing is despised, provided it is clean, and the things they evolved were little short of miraculous, tray cloths, cushion covers, and bags for the wounded man's small personal belongings were only a few of the more obvious. It seemed to me that they find some use for every inch of material, and the articles turned out, both from this and from the sewing-room, were most beautifully made; their shirts and dressing-gowns would have done credit to a first-class clothier. “Then the shoe-room was another fascinating place, where they made all sorts of bed and invalid slippers, special boots for frostbite and trenchfoot, and so on. They use all sorts of odds and ends—carpet, plush, tweed, travelling rugs, travellers’ samples of cloths, etc. —nothing seems to come amiss; and the slippers had the most delightfully professional air. It was hard to realise that the makers were for the most part the ‘idle rich,’ who before the war did practically nothing useful, and prabably didn’t even do their own personal sewing or mending The ground floor is taken up with a restaurant, where the workers can get lunch and tea, and the secretary’s office, and so on. Below in the basement are the sterilising rooms, packing rooms, and immense storerooms, where all the materials are stored and also the finished goods. The day I was there they were sending several huge cases to Salonika, and also some to one of the French Red Cross hospitals near Paris. The object is to supply any hospital that treats any of our wounded, so that none of them may go short. ‘‘The stables, etc., of the mansion had been converted into carpenters’ shops, and here a lot of men are busy making splints, crutches, etc., that were being padded upstairs. It looked rather odd to see intelligent faces and clean linen collars above the workmen’s overalls the average British workman is none too fond of washing—but as these are mostly barristers, and men of that sort, they keep up their ancient habits of cleanliness. If they are as good at their own jobs as they are at their carpentering, they should do well, for the things were beautifully made and nicely finished, very different from the rough we get from the ordinary surgical supply shops in peace times. They are all working with their hearts, and I suppose that makes all the difference in their work, for they have devised all sorts of improvements. If you are half as interested in this recital as I was in seeing it you’ll long to be at work at something of the same sort. They are going to open one at Hanley next week, for this district, and I think we are going to open a branch in Loughton soon. ’ 1