Tag Archives: home front

Nettles at War

This is lightly edited version of the article that first appeared on the website of the Peterborough Military History Group, hence the references to local places. That version can be found on the Research page of the Group website. And if you live in the area, new members are always welcome.

I imagine we are all familiar with the Stinging Nettle, or Urtica dioica as the botanists call it. They certainly form a significant part of my memories of childhood misadventures. The word Urtica is derived from a Latin word for sting, or burn, which is appropriate. They are a good source of food for caterpillars, make a nutritious soup, and have a number of uses in traditional medicine.

British Prisoners of War captured during the attacks of 21 March 1918 were held in poorly organised camps because the Germans were unprepared for the number of prisoners they took. Some of them, according to post-war newspaper reports, were reduced to eating nettles. Even British troops who weren’t prisoners were advised to add nettles to their stew to prevent scurvy.

The stings are easily deactivated by cooking or simply by cutting the nettle down. They inject the poison using a pressurised system, and if you cut them they wilt, lose pressure and stop stinging. You can eat the leaves raw without getting stung once this happens. I’m not recommending it, just telling you it can be done. In other words, if you try it and sting yourself –  tough!

Stinging Nettle

Romans used them for food and medicine, and there are references to legionaries in the German campaigns whipping themselves with nettles (known as urtication), which kept them awake on sentry duty, made them feel warmer and, possibly, reduced pain in sore joints. Native American traditional medicine also uses nettles in a similar way, with modern research seeming to support the idea that stings help with the pain of arthritis.

The stories that the Romans introduced nettles to this country are untrue, as we had nettles long before the Romans arrived. One source of knowledge about the early use of nettles is the Bronze Age site at Must Farm, near Peterborough. A half-eaten bowl of nettle soup was found, as were a number of textile samples showing that the inhabitants had used linen, nettle and tree bark fibres for various purposes a thousand years before the Romans arrived. Linen and nettles were used for producing cloth (the process of extracting the fibres is similar for the two types of plant) and the tree bark fibre was used for fishing nets. It seems surprising that cloth made from wild plants would still be needed when they could grow flax and produce fine linen, but despite our instinctive thoughts about rough nettle fabric, it actually makes a soft, high quality cloth.

Cotton started to appear in Europe in the 16th century but nettle cloth was commonly used in Scandinavia and Scotland, where it was known as “Scotch cloth” until the 19th century. It was mainly used for tablecloths and bedding.

The Central Powers imported a lot of fibre before the war – cotton from India and the USA, wool from Australia and Argentina. These markets were closed by the war (though the USA did continue to deal with the enemy for a considerable time, and complained about the restrictions the British put on trade).

The shortfall had to be made up from somewhere, and civilian clothing was made from a variety of substitute materials, including paper and reclaimed wool. This wasn’t sheets of paper, it was clothing woven by using specially produced thread from chemically treated wood pulp. In 1916 the German Government took over the clothing industry. The private sale of second-hand clothes was banned and they also regulated things like the length of dresses, and requisitioned many types of textile, including old blankets, and linen-backed maps. Reports indicate that scarecrows in Germany were stripped of their clothes to provide material for recycling, though this has a whiff of propaganda about it. After all, reports in 1914 indicated that Berliners had eaten the elephants from Berlin Zoo due to a lack of food. They hadn’t. They were in service as draught animals, which is a whole new article.

Nettle – courtesy of Wikipedia

However, uniforms did have a hard life and the high command recognised that it was false economy to produce poor quality kit, so these methods were mainly used for civilian clothes. The answer for the military, looking for high quality cloth, was nettles. They weren’t the first army to use nettle cloth, a century earlier Napoleon had also been blockaded, and had been forced to look for alternatives.

That was where “natural silk” came in. As the need for a cotton substitute became pressing, a researcher called Gottfried Richter, drew the attention of the authorities to the traditional uses of nettle fabric and large quantities of nettles that were readily available. The cloth produced from nettles is easily comparable to cotton, linen or even silk and has a number of advantages over wool or cotton, such as being hard wearing, resistant to shrinking and having natural anti-bacterial properties.

A report in the Evening Despatch (28 February 1916) reports that “Germany has access to large amounts of land in Belgium and Russian Poland where they will be able, in time, to grow flax and hemp. Jute stocks are nearly exhausted and there will be no more until after the war” (most of the world’s supply being grown in Bengal). The article also reports that “the Austrians have planted large amounts of nettles and “nesseltuch” (nettle cloth) is widely advertised in the newspapers”.

Just like the British, who sent people out to gather natural produce during both world wars, the Germans asked people to go out gathering nettles. They also cultivated nettles, and planted a large amount in the Danube valley. One article states that the German nettle harvesters were mainly school children and they harvested 10,000 tons of nettles to produce 1,500 tons of fibre. A shirt requires 45kg of nettles, and an area the size of 1½ football pitches can produce enough fibre for 100 shirts. The yield is a little over half the yield you would get from flax, but the cultivation, particularly as many of them grow wild, is a lot easier.

German Poster from WW1 – courtesy of Imperial war Museum

It wasn’t just clothing that used nettle fibre, it was also used to make cordage, nets, sandbags, sailcloth, straps, harnesses and backpacks. The nettles aren’t just a source of fibre, they are also a source of green and yellow dye.

By 1918 the Tewkesbury Register (07 December 1918) was able to report on “The Useful Nettle”, telling us that captured German uniforms were found to be made from nettles and listing other uses, including being a substitute, in early spring, for spinach, as the basis of a stout and serviceable paper and as a substitute for hemp in cloth and cordage.

In the Second World War. Germany was, again, resource poor and used nettles for textiles, even making parachutes from nettle cloth. Nettles were also one of the wild foods gathered by the German people, who along with most European nations, suffered from severe food shortages during the war.

They didn’t use as many nettles this time as they had plenty of rayon, a synthetic fibre produced from wood pulp treated with acid, which was easier to produce than nettle cloth. In pre-war uniforms the mix was 70% wool and 30% rayon with a linen lining. By the end of the war the linings were 100% rayon and the rayon/wool ratio (which by now used a lot of recycled wool) had shifted to just 30% being new wool.

The UK, on the other hand, despite being a major manufacturer of rayon (for parachutes in WW1, and for fabric and tyres in WW2). used nettles more than they had in the Great War. It was a simple equation – if you could produce something at home it saved space on a ship. We had to import the wood pulp used to make rayon so home grown nettles saved shipping space.

At Kew Gardens, plant scientists began to examine new uses for plants. One of the things they looked at was paper. Paper was always short during the war, as much of our pre-war wood pulp had come from Norway and the Army used a lot of paper. We could have brought it in from Canada, but that would have taken precious shipping space. In 1940, newspapers were restricted to 60% of their pre-war production and by 1945 they were down to 25%. Paper was salvaged and recycled, wrapping paper disappeared and burning it or throwing it away, was made illegal in 1942. Fortunately, nettle fibre was suitable for paper making, which helped alleviate the problem, and so , the paper drop tank was born, a construction of paper, glue and lacquer that held together just long enough to provide the fuel which allowed P51 Mustangs to escort bombers to Berlin.

They are a fine example of the balance that was needed in any scheme during the war. Paper was short, but metal was even more precious. By using paper drop tanks they saved metal, and also, when they jettisoned the empty tanks, they weren’t giving the Germans anything useful. Approximately 13,000 of these tanks were made, saving a lot of metal.

We also made fabric from nettles, and extracted fructose, a form of sugar from them. Chlorophyll had a number of medical uses, including being used on dressings. Nettles, along with alfalfa and spinach were one of the three best sources, and research at the time indicated that chlorophyll was effective in promoting the healing of burns and infected wounds (probably slightly better than penicillin), but when the two were used together the healing time shortened dramatically. It could also be used to produce a green dye, about 90 tons of nettles being used by the army in WW2 to dye camouflage nets.

Nettle Soup

School children became the preferred harvesters of nettles and the newspapers reflect this, though local references are sparse. The Northampton Mercury (22 August 1941), which refers to the WI at Geddington and their activities in collecting medicinal herbs, which they sent to wholesale druggists, and nettles. They were helped by local school children and teachers. Meanwhile, the WI at Earls Barton had a talk on Charles Dickens, and at Isham they were busy selling jam to raise £50 to buy a Bren gun.

At Donington, reported the Spalding Guardian (17 July 1942) Mrs Taylor (WI President) thanked all concerned in collecting 37ibs of nettles, including the scouts, who contributed 10 ibs of leaves already stripped from the stalks – a lot of leaves.

The Northampton Mercury and Herald (4 August 1944) tells people that efforts are to be concentrated on collecting rose hips as there is a need for vitamin C. Forty schools were acting as collecting depots (paying children 2d a pound). In 1943 Northamptonshire collected 14 tons of rose hips.

The first record we have of nettle fibre is finding used in Ancient Egypt in mummy bandages. It is still relevant today, as they use fewer resources and chemicals than cotton, and can be grown in Europe instead of being shipped in. Some exclusive fashion outlets use nettle fibre, but much of that is currently produced from Himalayan nettles, which isn’t sustainable. Currently, De Montfort University has a research team working on nettles so you never know, we could all be wearing nettles in the near future.

And just one extra point, to show how nettles are still used today – the dye made from the chlorophyll of nettles is now used to colour food, and has its own E Number – E140.

Nettle with Spider

Muttering about my Life

Plastic Transport Tokens – Nottingham

 

Looking over my life again, and formulating, with hindsight, a plan for its progress, I should have been a TV critic. I could then have played to my strengths and watched TV  all day. Then I could have written about it, appeared as a talking head, done celebrity quizzes and, if lucky, avoided reality TV. Compared to quizzes it always looks so hard. Two months living in a jungle with people I don’t like would be enough for me to put Plan B. That’s the one where I solve the twin problems of hunger and irritation by roasting one of the more annoying contestants and eating them. I’m a Cannibal, Get Me Out of Here!

I could write a book in jail and have a film deal waiting for me when I got out.

Well, it’s one version of my life and how it could have gone. Other lives, I suppose, are available.

I’m beginning to become more adept at writing short pieces for the Numismatic Society Facebook page.  I think I mentioned yesterday that I had done one on the Loughborough Carillon. That isn’t needed for a week or two, which is a shame, becauseI can easily do two or three a week. They are getting easier and they help me avoid the real work of the September Presentation. That link will take you to a piece I just did on plastic transport tokens from Nottingham Corporation Transport. The pictures are the ones from the Facebook article. If I use them it saves me the trouble of being creative.

Plastic ARP Transport Token – Nottingham – Home Front

 

 

Chilwell – a Nottingham Story

My apologies. I started yesterday morning with the intention of stitching together two short articles on Chilwell and adding a few more notes to remove some of the numismatic bias. It isn’t quite as seamless as I had intended, and as an added bonus, I seem to have introduced quite a few variations into the text with unexpected changes of font, colour and boldness. I’m not sure how I have managed to do this, but I think it is now, mostly, corrected.

Further apologies if you have come from my first post of the day, as you will already know all the information contained in that first paragraph. As we get older we ramble and repeat ourselves. Well, I do.

The word Chilwell probably doesn’t mean much to people outside Nottingham. Today, what remains is known as Chetwynd Barracks, but it has been there since 1915 with a variety of identities.

The outbreak of the Great War in 1914 changed British life forever, including numismatics. Wars need three things – men, money and munitions. During the first weekend of the war men queued to join the services, oblivious to the reality of the coming war, and over a million joined up by the end of the year. Then the money changed. The August Bank Holiday was extended to stop people withdrawing gold from the banks, as it was needed by the Government to finance the war. It took just six days to pass the Currency and Bank Notes Act, 1914 and design and print new notes. When the banks reopened on Friday 7th August, stocks of £1 notes were available to replace sovereigns. Ten Shilling notes became available the following week.

At the end of the war, there was a better known consequence, as the purity of the silver coinage dropped from .925 (Sterling Silver) to .500 in 1920. 

Finally – munitions. The armies on the Western Front fired approximately 1.5 billion shells. The British share of this required them to build 170 National Factories, including 27 which specialised in filling shells with explosives. This was very different to the single shell-filling factory we had in 1914 (Woolwich Arsenal). This expansion included Shell Filling Factory Number Six at Chilwell. During the war, the factory produced over 19 million shells, using over 120,000 tons of high explosive.

It was built without much central control. Lord Chetwynd, on the instructions of Lloyd George (who was then Chancellor of the Exchequer and head of the munitions committee), used his industrial know-how to build a factory. He told the government that he would not accept any interference and went about building a factory and developing a shell-filling system. Chetwynd was an interesting character who spent his youth touring the USA, working as a deputy sheriff in Texas, a bronco buster and a cornet player, before coming back to the UK where he became a director of Vickers Armstrong and the Wolseley Motor Car Company. He was one of a number of aggressive businessmen brought into munitions production by Lloyd George and it seemed to work well as a system.

The plan of the factory was drawn up on 7 September 1915, ground was broken on 13 September. By 8 January 1916 the first shells had been filled and by 22 January a batch had been transported to Shoeburyness for test firing. They performed well and by March the factory began in full scale production. By April they were producing 7,000 shells a week. This was done using a large number of women workers. Women had been working in factories and mills for years so I’m always surprised to see it written about as if it were a new idea, but I suppose it was the idea of using large numbers of women and trusting them to do skilled jobs that was the novelty. Over 800,000 women were eventually employed making munitions.

During the war 30-40,000 restrictive Trade Union practices were suspended, about 75% of them being practices which had restricted the use of women to do certain jobs, particularly complex jobs like working machines, which were clearly beyond the comprehension of women. Strangely, a hundred years later, this still seems to be the view of many car mechanics. These restrictions were reinstated in 1919. Although women could now vote (as long as they were 30) they were no longer allowed to do complex things like work machinery. Unless that machinery was a loom or a sewing machine, which has always struck me as being quite complex.

Factory check

The 38mm brass check illustrated was used as an ID disc for factory staff. The disc bears the crowned double C device on one side and a number on the other. The device was taken from the Chetwynd family coat of arms. The reverse has the wording THE PROPERTY OF THE NATIONAL SHELL FILLING FACTORY No 6 around the edges and CHILWELL in the centre with a stamped number.

The additional stamping – THE VC FACTORY 1915 1918 – is a reference to events on the night of 1 July 1918 when eight tons of TNT exploded. There was some fear of sabotage at the time, and also a feeling that the hot weather might have contributed to the instability of the mixture. However, the official enquiry decided that the most likely cause was a relaxation of safety standards to enable higher production rates.

The explosion was heard 30 miles away, and could have been a lot worse – the works manager, Arthur Bristowe, took burning TNT from the line and prevented a further 15 tons exploding. He was awarded the Edward Medal for his actions, one of the highest civilian gallantry awards available at the time. However, 132 people were killed in the blast and around 250 more were injured. Despite this, the day shift turned up for work as usual next morning and production restarted. Within a month the factory was reported to have set a new production record. In Parliament, Frederick Kellaway MP suggested that it might be appropriate to follow foreign practice and award a decoration to the factory. This was not followed up officially, but the factory workers took matters into their own hands and many surviving discs are stamped with the VC inscription.

Factory check – this one with the VC Factory overstamp. At the end of the war Lord Chetwynd allowed the staff to keep them as a memento. 

This was one of several explosions that took place at the factory, though the previous ones had killed only three people in total. It was also only one of several notable explosions in shell factories during the war – the other main ones being at Faversham (105 fatalities in 1916) and Silvertown (73 fatalities in 1917).

In all, around 600 people were killed in munitions explosions though many others died. A report from the munitions factory at Gretna indicates that 145 people died during the war, 115 men and 30 women, many being from industrial accidents rather than explosions. Many more died after the war from long term health conditions associated with the use of dangerous chemicals. There seems to be no figure for that, but I have seen a figure of 400 people dying as a result of exposure to TNT. This used to turn the skin yellow, which is why munitions workers were often known as “Canary Girls”.

All things eventually come to an end, and as the Great War drew to a close the need for shells decreased. The National Shell Filling Factory at Chilwell closed, and the story of “The VC Factory” passed into history.

However, the army retained the site, and built a depot for the Royal Army Ordnance Corps (RAOC) on the site, responsible for supplies of weapons, armoured vehicles, ammunition, clothing, laundry, mobile baths and photography, amongst other things. Chilwell dealt with general and surplus stores, and, with the re-armament that preceded the Second World War, was redeveloped in 1937, when it became one of five Central Ordnance Depots (COD) and specialised in building armoured vehicles.

The blue enamel tank badge with the “V for Victory” motif dates from WW2.

Chilwell Tank Fund Badge. Not exactly sure what it was for but the Victory V marks it down as WW2 in date. (Just researching it now – seems it was from a fund raising effort in 1941).

At its wartime peak in WW2 Chilwell COD employed 5,000 military and 7,500 civilian personnel. Eventually, after numerous reorganisations to mirror Britain’s decreasing army, the RAOC left Chilwell in 1982, and the depot closed on 31 March 1982. This is commemorated by the final medal, which has the badge of the RAOC on one side and a “VC Factory” design on the other.

The RAOC eventually disappeared completely when it was absorbed into the newly formed Royal Logistic Corps in 1993. Chilwell became Chetwynd Barracks in 1995, named after Viscount Chetwynd, and if everything goes to plan the barracks will be sold in 2026 for redevelopment as housing.

The final medallion.

A Day of Education

Today, after packing a reasonable number of parcels, I started loading a selection of maps, went on to empty coin cases and then started on some books. We have a  very interesting book at the moment – and as a result of reading it I now know what arrangements were made for pregnant women, victims of shipwreck and people who made gloves from rabbit skins as a side-line. I can also tell you what arrangements wee in place pertaining to pre-war fabric, second hand goods and fund-raising bazaars. Fascinating stuff – and I mean that sincerely. The administration must have been  a huge task, and that was just one small aspect of wartime life.

All you need to know about clothing coupons

The second book I looked at was, in some ways, more interesting, purporting to be a journalist’s evaluation of German paratroops.  He says they dropped into Poland and Holland in disguise, dressed as regionally appropriate peasants in Poland and, amongst other things, nuns and British soldiers in Holland. My view, as it always has been, is that these were just  stories. Look at it logically – you look up and see a nun on a parachute. Is your first instinct to wonder why a nun is parachuting, or wonder why the Nazi is wearing a dress? It’s bad enough jumping out of an aeroplane and being shot at without having the additional distraction of a stiff breeze blowing up your wimple.

Slightly less educational

So there you go, a day of education.

The advert in the header is from a map of Hampstead. It’s a Volvo P1800 as driven by Roger Moore in the Saint.

Nottingham Badges of the Great War

I’ve been taking pictures of Nottingham-related badges recently. You probably guessed that from the photographs of Nottingham-related badges in this post.

The “Comforts for Troops” badge in the header picture opens up some interesting sites on the net, including this one, with the story of Beatrice Whitby, who seems to have been an exceptional woman, even from the age of eleven. Interestingly, given the times in which she grew up, she did all that work without even having the right to vote.

There is an archive preserved in the Imperial War Museum, which includes many personal papers, and 209 postcards from soldiers who received parcels from the fund whilst prisoners of war. I will let you read the link if you want more detail, for now I will just say that they sent 40,000 parcels to prisoners of war, which was a huge effort.

My Dad and his two brothers raised money for comforts, with a penny a week fund and various other events during the Second World War,  so this is an area that I’m quite interested in.  Dad never mentioned it, I found out by accident when researching  family history in newspapers a few months ago.

This is an Australian article on knitted comforts as I can’t find anything on knitted comforts from Nottinghamshire. It’s interesting, though it does seem a bit ungrateful in places when discussing the quality of socks.

I can’t find anything on the Relatives Association badge so far, or the Hospital badge, though I can tell you that I bought the badge in a mixed lot at the J. Tanenbaum Collection at Neales Auction (Nottingham) on 28 February 1991. It was incidental to the things I actually wanted and it was the badge that set me off collecting badges, so it has a lot to answer for.