Jambusters

by Julie Summers

  Snow interrupted life regularly for farming communities and not just in Cumbria. The weather could be treacherous in the hills around Smethcote and in winter of 1941 there were six weeks of snow and blizzards. It began on New Year’s Day and gradually got worse. On 5 February Edith Jones wrote in her diary: ‘Gale, blizzard. Snow. What a day! Drifts everywhere, yards high.’ The following day, ‘Jack lent Jolly to Mr Silver to ride home. He himself rides the chestnut nag to bring Jolly back. Drifts over the horse’s head in places.’ At times like this it was impossible to hold WI meetings, so that year they only held nine meetings, for which they had to obtain special permission from county headquarters.

  In addition to growing vegetables, collecting wild herbs and rosehips and keeping pigs, the WI encouraged women to breed rabbits. Rabbits had the advantage of being multi-purpose and were reared throughout the war for food and fur, latterly most especially so for Mrs Churchill’s Fur for Russia Scheme which she ran from 1941. Edith’s diary often refers to Leonard ferreting to catch wild rabbits with his friend Jim Middleton. They would regularly return with eight pairs. ‘Monday, 10 Jan, Len and Jim Middleton go ferreting to catch 8½ pairs of rabbits. Len has unfortunately lost 2 of his ferrets through eating a bad rat. The best worker is left, one good thing.’ Mrs Ward in Bradfield was also adept at catching rabbits, which she sold at the market for their meat. In 1941 an article from the ad hoc Subcommittee for Agriculture and Handicrafts outlined the advantages and somewhat surprising statistics about rabbits: ‘The tame rabbit reproduces itself rapidly and can, in the course of a year, produce over half a hundredweight of meat, which is a little higher in proteins and minerals than most butcher’s meat, but has a lower fat content. It can be made into a great variety of excellent dishes.’ No mention of it tasting like chicken. Half a hundredweight is 25 kilograms, which is a very large accumulator on the average rabbit that weighs around 650 grams.

  On the premise that nothing must be allowed to go to waste, the article explained how the skin, unless in very poor condition, should be removed with care and dried by nailing it onto a board and then sent to a reliable firm for dressing. Alternatively rabbits could be kept and killed for their fur. One advantage of rabbits was that they were more or less able to be fed on grass and vegetable scraps, with just the odd handful of hay, bran or corn. Does could be used to breed just two weeks after weaning their youngsters so that the cycle could be repeated every three months, since the gestation period for a rabbit is just thirty-one days. ‘The weaned youngsters can be reared in groups if desired . . . in hutches with wire netted bottoms, so that they live mainly on grass. Under this system they can quite often obtain all the food they need, except a little hay, to raise them to killing age at three to four months old. Tame rabbits, like fowls or wild rabbits, are killed by dislocating their necks.’23 The article continued, ‘if more are produced than are needed for the family table, there is a very keen demand for tame rabbits in the principal markets, especially in London and other big towns, at 3s 4d to 5s each.’

  Although skins were also much in demand there was a big variation in the price for them, depending on the grade of the rabbit fur and the age of the creature when it was dispatched. ‘Those of common rabbits killed at early ages made 2d to 1s each according to grade, while the skins of the more valuable fur breeds, which are killed in winter after maturity, make from about 3s to 6s each, and very much higher prices for a few special skins in perfect coat.’ However, Mr King Wilson warned that breeding for fur was a much more skilled job than breeding for the table. Mrs Heron Maxwell told the Consultative Council at their meeting in August 1941 that they should appeal to rabbit owners to keep Ermine Rex and to sell their white pelts for export to the United States. ‘Unfortunately when the skin reaches its most desirable texture what lies beneath has long passed that stage and has qualified for stew pots only. A nice problem for rabbit fanciers. Which way lies patriotism?’24

  Of all the schemes the government asked the WI to promote it was the bone salvage scheme that was the least savoury. There were severe restrictions on shipping and domestic livestock farming had been cut back, yet the country still needed to import 50 per cent of its meat. Argentina had been Britain’s main pre-war trading partner and faced a significant cut-back to its exports. As a result a decision was taken to process the meat prior to shipping by means of de-boning, telescoping and canning it. This enabled Britain to maintain its meat imports at their pre-war level. However, importing meat off the bone meant that there was a lack of bones available for industrial use.

  Mr Dawes, the Controller of Salvage at the Ministry of Supply in Tothill Street, a stone’s throw from the Cabinet War Rooms, was in charge of addressing this issue in March 1942. He wrote to all town, borough and metropolitan councils, to urban and rural district councils and to the Special Scavenging Districts (Scotland) to ask them to organise an increase in the salvage of household bones. There had already been five circulars to that effect but the tonnage collected so far had been far below expectations and seriously short of requirements. ‘Hitherto it has been possible to meet the deficiency largely (though not entirely) by reliance on imports. The present war situation with its repercussions on sea routes, especially from the Far East, has forced the position that the bone using industries must now rely continuously on home sources to provide the necessary supplies. Household bones must therefore assume equal importance with other forms of salvage such as waste paper, metal etc.’25

  Every bit of bone, even rabbit and poultry bones were needed, though not fish bones. There was no substitute. Bones were routinely used in a variety of important war-related industries. Technical fats were extracted from bones and used for explosives, lubricating grease for guns and tanks, glycerine and medicinal products. Bones were also used for glue vital in the manufacture of aeroplanes, ships, shell carriers and other forms of equipment. Ground-up bone meal was used as fertiliser and processed bone meal needed for feedstuffs for the cattle, pig and poultry industries.

  The average yield of household bones from the salvage schemes run in December 1941 was 45lb per thousand of population and that had dropped in the spring. ‘The tonnage of bone issued for purchase at butchers’ shops, either in the meat ration or separately, has been ascertained from statistics compiled by the Ministry of Food; carefully conducted tests reveal that less than one-fourth of this tonnage entering dwelling houses is at present recovered.’26 This does rather beg the question as to how the calculations were made, not least as Mr Dawes revealed that the tonnage of bones returned to the trade by butchers had also been taken into account. He went on: ‘There can be no doubt that this most serious loss arises because bones are put into dustbins with refuse, burnt or buried.’27

  The solution was to organise a collection of bones, and this would have to be carried out frequently since, it was admitted, ‘householders had shown a dislike of retaining bones for more than a day or so, especially in warm weather’. Experts had confirmed that bones could be dried, but not burnt, either in an oven or on a boiler so as to get rid of the smell but without damaging the industrial value. The suggestion was to set out bins for the bones but these had to be kept out of the reach of dogs, who had shown a keen interest in the bone salvage scheme and become a menace in some areas. Salvage stewards, who were appointed to encourage the collection of every piece of recyclable waste, were urged to emphasise to householders the necessity for saving every piece of bone. ‘To prevent bins from being overturned by dogs, they should be fastened, where possible, to trees or standards. The bins must be clearly marked BONES so as to distinguish them from kitchen waste bins. Suitable posters are available from Salvage Department.’28

  Inevitably the bone salvage scheme was incorporated into WI wartime duties and they were encouraged to run the scheme in their villages. And, more importantly, to explain to people why the collection of bones was so important and to get Boy Scouts and other enthusiastic collectors to help out with checking the bins, cleaning them, repairin
g them where necessary and making sure dogs could not get at the precious salvage material. Coningsby and Tattershall helped to collect 3 tons and 7 hundredweight of bones for the salvage scheme in 1942 along with 1 and a half tons of rags, 54 tons of paper and 3 tons of insulation material. At their January meeting they decided to buy a padlock for the yard as the material was potentially so valuable. The publicity for the bone salvage campaign was carried out by local authorities with advice, if required, from the Federation of Bone Users and Allied Trades, and run through towns and villages by means of posters, newspaper advertisements and loudspeakers. It is hard not to smile at the thought of some eager council worker bellowing through a megaphone: ‘Bring out your bones.’

  6

  BOIL AND BUBBLE, TOIL AND TROUBLE

  15 February 1941: This is another of Hitler’s ‘invasion’ dates, but up till 9pm he has not arrived. Jack sprayed the fruit trees with a cleansing wash and I did another yard or two of pear tree border.

  Mrs Milburn

  Jam. If you ask someone what they think the WI did in wartime they will probably answer ‘They made jam.’ It is true. They did and they made a lot of it. As we have seen, it is by no means the only contribution members made to the war effort but it is one of the two images that the general public has of the WI. The other being singing ‘Jerusalem’. They have had to live with that cosy couplet ‘Jam and Jerusalem’ for over half a century and it risks ridiculing the enormous amount of valuable work done by the women of rural Britain.

  The contribution the WI made to fruit preservation should not be underestimated. To be clear, the Women’s Institute did not take over responsibility for the manufacture of all jam during the Second World War. Factories continued to buy farmed fruit and produce jam as they always had done. What the WI did was to make hundreds of extra tons of jam from surplus fruit. This was fruit that would otherwise have rotted on bush or bough, either growing wild, in village gardens or on allotments. In 1940 alone it was estimated that their efforts saved 1,170 tons of fruit and it was sold commercially as well as in villages and on WI market stalls. It was a wonderful example of how the WI network functioned to the benefit of the country as a whole.

  Four years into the war and thousands of tons of jam later the NFWI’s educational organiser, Cicely McCall, summed up the appeal of this work:

  Jam-making was constructive and non-militant, if you liked to look at it that way. It accorded with the best Quaker traditions of feeding blockaded nations. For those who were dietetically minded, jam contained all the most highly prized vitamins. For those who were agriculturally minded, the scheme saved a valuable crop from literally rotting on the ground, and it encouraged better fruit cultivation – though not, one can only pray, of plums only. And for the belligerent, what could be more satisfying than fiercely stirring cauldrons of boiling jam and feeling that every pound took us one step further towards defeating Hitler?1

  Why was jam so important? There were two main reasons. First, making fruit into jam, canning it or bottling it, preserved it in a state that meant it could be used long after the fruit itself was out of season. Thus it saved a very large amount of seasonal fruit and vegetables from going to waste. Secondly, as jam contained sugar, it was a nutritious, easy-to-store foodstuff that added taste to restricted wartime menus and when made for the government, as the WI jam was, it used sugar that was in addition to that available on ration. The WI made a sufficient amount of jam to make a significant contribution to the food supply. Rural housewives had a long tradition of fruit and vegetable preservation since, as we have already seen, there were very few houses with refrigerators and it was not until well after the war that freezers were introduced into the home and used as they are today. Thus every housewife had bottled, tinned, canned preserves and some dried peas or beans in her pantry, whether through her own industry or bought from shops and market stalls.

  Edith Jones made preserves and jams as fruit came into season. She conserved pears, plums and damsons, dried beans and stored other fruit and meat. Her larder was full of bottles, cans and jam jars while her pantry, with its cool, north-facing aspect and a long slate shelf down one side, had a variety of dressed fowl, cured meat, pies, butter, eggs and cooked meats. The jars were earthenware and she used two sorts – one was a dumpy, cream-coloured cylindrical jar with a lipped rim, ideal for jams, marmalades and other forms of preserves; the other was a rounder two-tone glazed jar, with a body wider at the shoulders than the base, which she used to store her beans in. Both types of jar were sealed to keep out air and the contents would have lasted for more than a year in favourable conditions. Outside above one of the stables there was a first-floor granary, approached by a set of stone steps on the outside wall. Here she stored fruit and vegetables that needed dry conditions, such as winter apples, and broad bean and pea seeds for next season’s planting. The granary shared an inside wall with the farmhouse’s dining room so that the chimney from the fireplace ran up that wall and kept the store dry even in the winter. Only through such husbandry could she guarantee a food supply for her family throughout the year.

  The war broke out just as the autumn crops were ripening. Word reached the National Federation’s headquarters that fruit from all over the country was going to waste because the bumper harvest could not be gathered in owing to disruption caused by the outbreak of hostilities. Miss Farrer at national headquarters immediately contacted the Ministry of Food and secured 430 tons of sugar, worth £13,000 (£450,000 today). She then wrote to county chairmen telling them that a quantity of sugar had been secured from the government for the purpose of preserving as much surplus fruit as possible and this could be ordered by institutes direct from London. The minimum quantity supplied by headquarters was one hundredweight or 50 kilograms at a price of 27s 6d and at this stage there was no maximum quantity, though members had to undertake that the sugar was used for preservation purposes only. Within a fortnight the price of sugar had risen to 30 shillings per hundredweight and institutes were ordering by the ton. Edith’s institute ordered two hundred-weight.

  The first wave of jam-making was done on an entirely ad hoc basis, village by village, organised either by institute members or other women in the village who had the space in their kitchens to offer jam-making facilities. Large pots and pans were borrowed and lent, jars and bottles collected from friends and relatives, ripe fruit was spotted and picked from gardens, orchards, trees and hedgerows. Estimates varied about how much jam was made in that first wave but the WI claimed that it had saved some 450 tons of fruit from rotting.

  In November 1939 the editor of Home & Country was triumphant: ‘After that, there could be no doubt that the institute movement is very much alive. One of its original purposes was to help in the production and preserving of food: the very first Institute effort of this new war carried on that purpose.’2 Another correspondent agreed, writing proudly: ‘It is not too much to say that the Headquarters sugar campaign won, for the WIs, the first round of the war. It came at what learned persons call the psychological moment, when many of us saw no future for the Women’s Institutes but a prolonged work-party. What women faced with panic need most is an organized common effort and something friendly and sensible in their hands. The National Federation gave us both together.’3

  Mrs Blagg, the president of Burton Joyce and Bulcote WI, in Nottinghamshire, spoke for many institutes when she wrote in October: ‘Our 4 cwt has gone to about twenty homes. We had quite an enjoyable afternoon weighing it, and our members gladly paid more than they were asked – we got it before the Budget advanced the price and by this means we have obtained £2 to help with our sewing for evacuees and hospital supplies. The forethought of the NFWI seems to me to supply an excellent answer to the often repeated cry, “Why do we need national and county federations?”’

  With a common aim and united strength, highlighted by Lady Denman as two of the WI’s strongest points, the jam-making of autumn 1939 proved the extraordinary efficiency and speed with which
the WI could galvanise its members and it undoubtedly helped the institutes to get over the feeling that they were fiddling while Rome burned. Perhaps the greatest success of the first jam campaign, however, was to convince the government and in particular Lord Woolton that the WI was going to prove useful in this war and that they were prepared to seize the initiative.

  The press picked up on the story. The Burton Chronicle reported on 28 September 1939 that ‘Although the separate institutes are vigorously individual bodies, the value of the centralised control exercised by the HQ of the Fed was evidenced last week when the local counties sent in a plea that preserving sugar was running short. Headquarters managed to secure 35 tons of sugar and despatched it forthwith to country branches, thus saving hundreds of pounds worth of fruit for jam making.’

  Some counties let their institutes fend for themselves in the first wave of spontaneous jam-preserving whereas others, such as Warwickshire, sprang quickly into action and organised professional canning. One or two women would undertake to do the work for individuals. Canning was an art that many members learned over the next few years but initially it was a high-level skill shared only by a few who had learned it in the Produce Guild. One member described the method of operating the machine: