World War Wednesdays: Female Flyers of Nazi Germany

Hanna Reitsch's Indoor Flight, www.ww2gravesite.com

     This week's post is a bit different for me; definitely not in subject matter but in terms of the nature of its material. I listened to my first historical podcast, which is a medium that's quite popular among historians and public historians, and it was great to finally jump aboard the non-print material bandwagon! This information comes from a History Extra podcast called "Female Flyers in Nazi Germany," in which author and biographer Clare Mulley discusses her new book The Women Who Flew for Hitler, which explores the lives of two remarkable women who became leading aviators in the Third Reich. To begin, I'll provide some basic information about the two women Ms. Mulley discusses, before outlining the information she shares during her interview. 

Hanna Reitsch

      Born on March 29, 1912 in Hirschberg, Silesia to an upper-middle class family, and began her career studying medicine with the dream of becoming a flying doctor in North Africa. 

Melitta Gräfin von Schenk von Stauffenberg

       
     Born on January 9, 1903 in Krotoschin (then Prussia, now Poland), her father, Michael Schiller, was the son of a Jewish fur-trading family who had converted to Protestantism at a young age.

     To begin, Mulley introduces the subjects of her work as being women who had both learned to fly in Silesia (then Germany). Both were trained in gliders, which became a popular sport and symbol of regeneration and freedom after commercial flight was banned in Germany following the First World War. The atmosphere of patriotism and pride surrounding gliding in the postwar years attracted both Hanna and Melitta, who were naturally talented in the cockpit. Mulley says that while women were not encouraged to fly at that time, it "was a very glamorous time for flight," and these women became associated with that image.

     Mulley then offers a brief description of Hanna Reitsch's life and career. She reflects that Hanna was the first woman to fly a helicopter and the first person to fly a helicopter inside a building (see above). As the Nazi party came to power in 1933 and restored the German air force, she was proud of her blond hair and blue eyes and "delighted to be associated with the Nazi regime." She regarded the party as being capable of restoring pride, commerce, and jobs in Germany, and eventually began undertaking a great deal of public relations work on its behalf in large part due to her flying. During the war, she became a test pilot and would fly planes with special fittings on their wings that would cut steel cables on the zeppelin balloons that were barricading London. This meant that she was required to deliberately fly into the balloon cables at great risk. She also became the first of very few women to pilot a Messerschmidt 163 (a jet rocket plane) and survived a horrible crash, later becoming an early pioneer of plastic surgery. In recognition of her contributions to the Nazi regime, she was awarded the prestigious Iron Cross 1st and 2nd Class. 

     In contrast, Mulley describes Melitta Gräfin von Schenk von Stauffenberg as being much less bubbly and confident than Hanna. Dark-haired and shy, she adored flying and physics and was a university graduate in aeronautical engineering. Given her expertise, she developed pioneering advancements for the Luftwaffe and tested her own devices. Specializing in dive bombing, she worked on Stukkas and Junkers JU 87/88s, which necessitated steep dives at high speeds. She also was involved in highly dangerous targeted pinpoint bombing without the pressurized suits with which the Allies were providing their test pilots, meaning  she faced a high danger of blacking out. In total, she undertook an unbelievably impressive 15,000 dive bombs, and also headed one of the most significant technological research centers for the Nazi regime. 

     Mulley explains that The Women Who Flew for Hitler is formatted as a double biography because of the vast differences between the two women but their shared commonality in the theme of proud German patriotism and sense of duty. She describes Melitta as being a conservative from an old German family, who was deeply committed to the pre-Nazi Germany, while Hanna was more committed to the new Nazi regime. Together, their stories provide "a much greater insight into the insanity of the Nazi regime" according to Mulley, which she argues is evidenced by its claim that there was no place for Jews in Germany, and that women were expected to assume a traditional domestic role; but both Hanna and Melitta were celebrated for flying and Melitta's Jewish background was ignored. Indeed, the Nazis were well aware of Melitta's Jewish heritage, since she had applied for Equal to Aryan status for herself and her whole family while she worked on making herself indispensable enough to spare them all. This evidences the contradictory Nazi policies and a willingness to compromise for which they are not often known, and demonstrates that there was no uniformity in the regime's belief system. 

Glider of the Berlin Segelflugverein at the Rhönwettbewerb 1923, Deutsches Museum

     Mulley then discusses the importance of flying to Nazi rise to power. After the First World War and removal of the German Air Force, crowds 30,000-strong would attend gliding shows. Melitta made her first flight at one such event in 1920, which also happened to be the same year that Hitler flew for the first time. In so doing, he recognized the potential that flight held not just for sport and commerce, but also in symbolism: "it was a political machine ," says Mulley, and he appreciated the technology's connotations with freedom and power. In 1922, Hitler became the first leader to undertake an airborne election campaign, flying around the country to address people rather than using the government-controlled radio waves. In true Hitler fashion, he employed theatrical landings and departures at dusk to maximize the full effect of the spectacle. 

     Similarly, Hanna also enjoyed the dramatics and notoriety associated with the regime. She quickly became a celebrity, and is often seen in footage from Nazi leaders' birthdays and special events where the camera zooms in to acknowledge her. During the 1938 Motor Show, an international fair hosted by Germany, numerous leading celebrities and Grand Prix winners were featured in order to showcase Germany's return to power on the world stage. The event included a helicopter display in the Deutschlandhalle, which was the biggest stadium in Europe at the time, where Hanna flew the craft inside while giving the Nazi salute. Melitta was often asked to do similar appearances but regularly found excuses not to, and once gave a speech in Stockholm during the war that never once mentioned Hitler or the regime and only referred ambiguously to her country. In regards to Hanna, Mulley notes an implicit propaganda of glamorous female empowerment which was used to suggest dedication to the regime and not for recruitment. She was a patriotic figure to rally behind, and was even taken to meet people on the Eastern Front during the last days of the war to boost morale. 

Adolf Hitler awards Hanna Reitsch the Iron Cross 2nd Class in March 1941

     In terms of the two women's personal relationships with each other, Mulley says that they did know one another and shared a mutual loathing which is not surprising given their differences. She indicates that the two were at some of the same test centers at the same time (they were simultaneously at the Berlin Aero Club, for example), and that Hanna was suspicious of Melitta and her political opinions. She is known to have written in letters about the possibility of Melitta trying to sabotage the war effort and work for the other side. After the war and Melitta's death in a crash landing, Melitta's sister Klara tried to compile a memoir of her sister and asked people for their reflections. In response, Hanna immediately wrote her that there was nothing remarkable about what Melitta had done, that her success was motivated an unhealthy kind of ambition driven by inner despair as a result of trying to prove herself despite her Jewish heritage, and that her Iron Cross was not valid.

     Mulley's own interpretation of Hanna and Melitta is that Hanna can be seen as an early protofeminist, while Melitta was more of an exception to a rule. Hanna was willing to look the other way regarding Nazi actions and policies, but Melitta was critical of the regime from the start. In that regard, Mulley observes two women who worked very closely in a small sphere, but their mindsets and decisions led to their two very different paths. After the war, Hanna claimed herself to be apolitical, but Mulley argues that as a woman she was actually much more political because she made the active choice to be involved and support the regime. In truth, she was deeply anti-Semitic her whole life and supported the Nazis to the end. 

     If you're interested in more biographical information on Hanna and Melitta, I encourage you to read more. Some of the most significant aspects of their lives are not included in the scope of Mulley's work, but can be easily uncovered online. 
     Thanks for reading,
Delany (@DLeitchHistory on Twitter)

World War Wednesdays: Glow: The "Radium Girls" During and After WWI

Employees of the U.S. Radium Corp. paint numbers on the faces of wristwatches using dangerous radioactive paint. 

  I'd like to thank my sister Lexi for bringing this week's topic to my attention, and hope you find this tragic story as interesting as we did.

     Beginning around the turn of the century in America, the chemical element radium was popularly seen as a scientific miracle that could cure a variety of ailments, including cancer, upon ingestion of the so-called "liquid sunshine." Because the magical substance glowed and fizzed, the radium craze saw its application in numerous other capacities, most notably in the production of glow-in-the-dark wrist watches. During the teens and the First World War period, the watches were largely manufactured for the U.S. military due to their obvious benefit in trench and combat conditions, before the 1920s gave way to their popularity as a hot new gadget among civilians.

     The watches were manufactured in factories across America owned by the U.S. Radium Corp., which were predominantly staffed by working-class young women. Bill Kovarik describes the production conditions and process: "Racks of dials waiting to be painted sat next to each woman's chair. They mixed up glue, water and radium powder into a glowing greenish-white paint, and carefully applied it with a camel hair brush to the dial numbers. After a few strokes, the brushes would lose their shape, and the women couldn't paint accurately." He quotes former employee Grace Fryer: "'Our instructors told us to point them with our lips,' she said. 'I think I pointed mine with my lips about six times to every watch dial. It didn't taste funny. It didn't have any taste, and I didn't know it was harmful.'" The workers were thus regularly ingesting the radium as part of their job, which reflects how harmless it was thought to be at the time. In addition, they would even paint their nails and teeth with it to surprise their boyfriends when the lights went out.

     Continuing with Grace's story, Kovarik describes how she came to realize that her time working with the glowing substance proved detrimental to her health:

     "Grace quit the factory in 1920 for a better job as a bank teller. About two years later, her teeth started falling out and her jaw developed a painful abscess. The hazel eyes that had charmed her friends now clouded with pain. She consulted a series of doctors, but none had seen a problem like it. X-ray photos of her mouth and back showed the development of a serious bone decay. Finally, in July 1925, one doctor suggested that the problems may have been caused by her former occupation. As she began to investigate the possibility, Columbia University specialist Frederick Flynn, who said he was referred by friends, asked to examine her. The results, he said, showed that her health was as good as his. A consultant who happened to be present emphatically agreed. Later, Fryer found out that this examination was part of a campaign of misinformation started by the U.S. Radium Corporation. The Columbia specialist was not licensed to practice medicine -- he was an industrial toxicologist on contract with her former employer. The colleague had no medical training either -- he was a vice president of U.S. Radium."

     The Corporation was thus an active conspirator in the illusion of radium's harmlessness, and we know today that it was fully aware of its dangerous side effects as recognized by scientists at the time. As with all significant historical moments, the intellectual and moral conditions of the time played a major role in the outcome of Fryer's and the Corporation's story. The realization that her health issues were related to the circumstances of her former employment coincided with the latter portion of the Progressive Movement in America, when intellectuals and activists undertook the effort to cure societal ills that had been brought about by rapid industrialization beginning in the last quarter of the nineteenth century. This meant increasing professionalization and the proliferation of organizations, in addition to a strong role played by women spearheading those initiatives. In Orange, NJ, the location of one of the Radium Corp. factories, a city health department official brought the New Jersey Consumers League into an investigation of the mysterious deaths of four radium factory workers between 1922 and 1924, who then enlisted other experts to contribute to the study.

     Kovarik describes the lawsuit that followed from the investigation: "Although it meant flying in the face of some medical opinion, Grace Fryer decided to sue U.S. Radium, but it took her two years to find an attorney willing to take the case. On May 18, 1927, Raymond Berry, a young Newark attorney, took the case on contingency and filed a lawsuit in a New Jersey court on her behalf. Four other women with severe medical problems quickly joined the lawsuit. They were Edna Hussman, Katherine Schaub, and sisters Quinta McDonald and Albina Larice. Each asked for $250,000 in compensation for medical expenses and pain. The five eventually became known in newspaper articles carried in papers throughout the U.S. and Europe as 'the Radium Girls.'"

 Clipping from The Bee, Danville, Virginia, 1928

    

  Another trend that was becoming prominent around the time of the radium girls story and Progressivism was the role of the media in influencing public opinion surrounding news events. A publicity blizzard surrounded the story, led by New York World editor Walter Lipmann, which outraged readers and shifted opinion in favour of the victims while pressurizing the U.S. Radium Corp. to settle the case. Kovarik describes how the story was able to reach French scientist Marie Curie, who had discovered radium: "Curie heard about the reaction and, on June 4, said: "I am not a doctor, so I cannot venture an opinion on whether the New Jersey girls will die. But from newspaper descriptions of the manner in which they worked, I think it imperative to change the method of using radium."Curie herself died of radium poisoning in 1934."

     Eventually, an out-of-court settlement was reached between the Corp. and the radium girls, who received annual payments while they lived and had all medical and legal expenses paid by the company. In addition, a conference endorsed by numerous public officials including Eleanor Roosevelt called for the establishment of two committees: one to investigate existing conditions and another to recommend the best known means of protection for workers. A Public Health Service official, James P. Leake, commended the Consumers League and others who had worked on behalf of public health and worker safety. "By focusing public attention on some of these horrible examples," Leake said, "the broader problems of disease prevention... can be greatly reduced. It was so in the tetra-ethyl lead work." He added: "The martyrdom of a few may save many." Thus, while the five radium girls eventually succumbed to their exposure during the 1920s and 1930s, their experiences set a new precedent for legal working conditions in America in addition to a standard for public health.

     If you're interested in some fascinating further reading, here is an article discussing a radium-exposed factory worker who miraculously lived to be 107 and died in 2014: http://www.npr.org/2014/12/28/373510029/saved-by-a-bad-taste-one-of-the-last-radium-girls-dies-at-107

     All information courtesy of "The Radium Girls" by Bill Kovarik, which you can read in full here: http://www.rst2.edu/ties/radon/ramfordu/pdffiles/The%20Radium%20Girls.pdf

     Thanks for reading,

Delany (@DLeitchHistory on Twitter)

      

World War Wednesdays: Margin for Error: The Indomitable Clare Booth Luce

Clare Boothe Luce speaking at a Republican Convention in 1944

     I've spent the past few weeks learning about and appreciating strong women, especially women in politics, during my time as Equal Voice's Daughters of the Vote delegate for Elgin-Middlesex-London. I hope you''ll indulge me a further exploration on that theme but within a wartime context as we take a look at the life of the talented, wealthy, beautiful, and controversial Clare Boothe Luce.

     To start with some background, she was born on 10 March, 1903 in New York and spent her life as an author, politician, socialite, and public conservative figure. Her writings cover wide range of genres including fiction, journalism, war reportage, and drama, and her 1936 hit play The Women, which had an all-female cast, was adapted into a 1939 film.

     While her entire biography is fascinating and worth reading more about, I will be focusing specifically on her life during the Second World War period. Her time as a war reporter is actually much less well-known than her other roles, but it is one of the most significant elements of her wartime experience. She covered a wide range of battlefronts, enduring all the discomfort, danger, and frustration encountered by even the most seasoned war correspondents. Her first experience with the war was in 1940, which prompted her to write her first non-fiction book called Europe in the Spring. A product of her motivation to convince fellow Americans of the dangers of isolationism, it was a vivid and anecdotal account of her four-month visit to "a world where men have decided to die together because they are unable to find a way to live together." She was also a corresponded for Life magazine, and her profile of General Douglas MacArthur made the cover the day after Pearl Harbor on December 8, 1941. Besides withstanding bombing raids in Europe and the Far East, she also faced house arrest in Trinidad by British Customs when a draft Life article about poor military preparedness in Libya proved too accurate for Allied comfort. Her unsettling observations there ultimately led longtime friend Winston Churchill to revamp Middle Eastern military policy.

     Luce was also a pioneering woman in the politics, another of her Second World War occupations. In 1942, she won a Republican seat in the U.S. House of Representatives representing Fairfield County, Connecticut. Her platform was based on three goals: "One, to win the war. Two, to prosecute that war as loyally and effectively as we can as Republicans. Three, to bring about a better world and durable peace, with special attention to postwar security and employment here at home." In 1944, the forty-one year-old became the first woman in American history to be listed as a possible candidate for the Vice Presidency. On 28 June of that year, the first Republican convention held in wartime since Abraham Lincoln's 1864 renomination took place, and saw Luce deliver one of the most controversial speeches of her time. The event was broadcast on both radio and television, and spectators across America collectively gasped when she boldly accused President Roosevelt of lying to the nation in the months before Pearl Harbor. According to historian James A. Von Schilling,
     Women delegates gasped at her strongest statements, reported the Herald Tribune the next day, while Republican men displayed "an expression of admiration grudgingly bestowed and a small, masculine flicker of fear."Watching her on TV, a New York Times reporter noted that "the addition of sight had multiplied the dramatic value. ..at least tenfold."

     The considerable backlash and criticism resulting from one of the biggest TV moments of the summer did not stop Luce from being re-elected to Congress. During her second term, she was instrumental in the creation of the Atomic Energy Commission, and over the course of two tours to Allied battlefronts in Europe, she advocated for more support for what she considered to be America's forgotten army in Italy. She was also present at the liberation of several concentration camps in April 1945. After V-E Day, she began warning against the rise of international communism as another form of totalitarianism which could potentially lead to a third World War. 

     Every once in a while as a historian, we come across a person who seemed to have been involved in an astounding range of historical events and whose biography reads like a history textbook. Luce's entire story is fascinating given the period in which she lived and worked, and I highly recommend looking into the parts of her life I wasn't able to cover. Research is credited to the Library of Congress "Women Come to the Front" exhibition as well as the article "Television During World War II" by James A. Von Schilling. 
     Thanks for reading,
Delany (@DLeitchHistory on Twitter)

World War Wednesdays: Profiles of Three Heroes: The Faces of the Resistance

Female French Resistance fighters

One thing we really haven’t dealt with much thus far is the Second World War resistance movement. I was particularly inspired recently to read of some of the female intelligence agents, and thought you might appreciate a little mission behind enemy lines this week into the world of spies and sabotage!

Noor Inayat Khan

“I wish some Indians would win high military distinction in this war. If one or two could do something in the Allied service which was very brave and which everybody admired it would help to make a bridge between the English people and the Indians.”

            Born in Russia to an American mother and father of Indian nobility, Khan grew up in France. At the start of the war they fled to England, where she joined the Women’s Auxiliary Air Force (WAAF) in November 1940. Since she was fluent in French, she was referred to recruiters for the Special Operations Executive (SOE), a British organization formed with the task of assisting resistance movements in occupied Europe. Once recruited, Khan became the first female radio operator to go into occupied France. In July 1943, she established herself in the Paris Prosper Network, which was soon discovered by the Nazis. The other wireless operators were captured, leaving Khan as the sole communicator with London.

            She continued working until her own arrest on 13 October 1943, and while she didn’t talk during interrogations, the Germans found her notebooks, broke her code, and impersonated her SOE discarded the message as unreliable. London continued to treat the impersonated messages as genuine, leading to several more arrests and executions by the Germans.

            Meanwhile, Khan attempted several escapes and even managed one successfully in November 1943 before being quickly recaptured. The Nazis deemed her “very dangerous” and sent her to Pforzheim, Germany, where she endured ten months of solitary confinement as a Night and Fog prisoner (one of Hitler’s directives against resistance workers whereby local populations would be intimidated by the disappearance of captured loved ones). In September 1944, Khan and three other SOE agents were transferred to Dachau and executed. A bronze bust of Khan now stands in London’s Gordon Square Gardens.

Odette Hallowes

“They will kill me, I know. But then they would not win anything. What is the point? They’ll have a dead body, useless to them. They won’t have me. I won’t let them have me… it’s a kind of bargaining.”

            It all started with a postcard. French-born Hallowes had moved with her three daughters to England at the start of the war. In 1942, the Admiralty asked civilians for photos and postcards of the French coast for military intelligence. Hallowes accidentally addressed her postcard to the war office, which led to an interviewer with a recruiter for the SOE.

            While she was reluctant to leave her daughters, Hallowes trained as one of the first female SOE recruits. She landed in France in November 1942, where she contacted Captain Peter Churchill, another agent. She aided him in the resistance for the next five months.

            Meanwhile, a German intelligence officer had captured one of Hallowes’s contacts and infiltrated the resistance. He captured Hallowes and Churchill on 16 April 1943 and transported them to Fresnese Prison. When the bribes failed to extract information, the two were interrogated and tortured. They quickly fabricated a story that Churchill was the nephew of the prime minister and Hallowes was his wife, hoping that this would give them a reprieve.

            By July 1944, Hallowes was at the Ravensbrück concentration camp as a Night and Fog prisoner. She survived five months on a starvation diet before she was released to a normal cell. Her trial ended in May 1945, when her ward turned her over to American troops in the hopes of shortening his sentence. He was tried and executed, while Hallowes went on to enjoy life into her eighties.

Nancy Wake

“I have only one thing to say: I killed a lot of Germans, and I’m sorry I didn’t kill more.”

            Wake was always a strong and independent woman. At sixteen, she ran away from home and worked as a nurse and journalist before settling in Marseille with her husband. He was a member of Marseille’s upper society, and Wake lived a life of luxury until the Germans invaded France.

            Without any formal training, she became an essential member of the resistance in Marseille. She used the cover of her expensive flat and socialite status to aid refugees and Allied spies. She was so successful that the Germans nicknamed her “White Mouse” and made her the Gestapo’s most-wanted person. When the situation grew too dangerous, she fled to England in 1943.

            There, she immediately joined the SOE, trained with a group of male recruits and parachuted back into France in April 1944. She became one of the leaders of the resistance group Maquis d’Auvergne, coordinating supplies and sabotage attacks for the 7,000 men under her command. Before the war’s end, the group fought 22,000 Germans and suffered only a hundred casualties, but wounded or killed 1,400 German soldiers.

            Here’s an interesting anecdote about Wake: Sometimes, a firm hand was required in demonstrating to over 7,000 men that a woman could lead them. On one occasion, several new recruits refused to do their share of chores. “You don’t want to collect water, I hear?” She asked, marching up to them. They were all sitting on a tree trunk and indicated that this was so. “Well then, of course, you mustn’t,” she said sweetly. “You are gendarmes. Water-carrying is not for you. Now you just stay there comfortably in the sun and I’ll get the water for you.” She put the buckets in her car, drove to the nearby lake, filled them up and drove them back to the headquarters. Then, grim-faced, she opened the door of the car, took out one bucket of water, marched across to the first gendarme and deposited it violently over his head. “Don’t move!” she bellowed to his startled companions. Petrified, they sat where they were. One after another, she helmeted every one of them with a pail full of water. (Russel Braddon, Nancy Wake: SOE’s Greatest Heroine)

            I appreciate your “dropping in” to celebrate these remarkable women with me this week. All information and images come from Victoria Van Vlear’s article “Subversive Heroes” in Heroes of World War II Fall 2016, pp. 87-91.

            Thanks for reading,

Delany

World War Wednesdays: The Scoop of the Century: Clare Hollingworth

Clare Hollingwood in 1932

     I'm sad to report that we've lost another of history's most important people, and even sadder to admit that I hadn't heard of her before today. After reading her incredible story in the obituaries being posted online, I thought it important to make her name known to anyone who, like me, had not yet come across it.

     Her name was Clare Hollingwood and she was born on 10 October, 1911 to middle-class parents in an English village where her father ran a boot factory that was founded by her grandfather. Interested in politics, she studied Croatian at Zagreb University, international relations in Switzerland, and Slavonic studies in London. Following that, she worked as a secretary and then at a British newspaper's refugee charity in Poland while writing occasional articles about the tense political situation in Europe. Her work must have been exceptional, because friends convinced her to focus on journalism rather than politics.

     While working in Poland, Clare arranged for the evacuation of more than 3,500 political and Jewish refugees to Britain, which earned her the the nickname "the Scarlet Pimpernel" in the British press. According to her biography, written by her nephew, she had a natural talent for dealing with reluctant officials, incomplete information, and managing complicated logistics. After having saved thousands of lives by regularly circumventing British immigration bureaucracy, her time with the agency came to an abrupt halt in July 1939. While the exact reason is not clear, her nephew believes that Britain felt she had opened the doors to potentially dangerous immigrant spies and enemies of the state in her efforts to save the lives of people being persecuted by the Third Reich. Within a month of returning to Britain, she secured a new job as a war correspondent for the Telegraph and quickly returned to Poland, this time staying with a diplomat friend from the Foreign Office in Katowice, at the German-Polish border. [Interestingly, this is the same town where my good friend and Holocaust survivor lived, and she also was a witness to the earliest events in Germany's invasion of Poland.]

Hollingworth (left) with the Consul General's car she borrowed to cross the Germany-Poland border in 1939, South China Morning Post

     With the knowledge that war could erupt at any minute, Clare took advantage of the influence of a diplomatic flag on 30 August, 1939, when she borrowed her host's car and "motored off alone into Nazi Germany" to stock up on wine and aspirin. Driving back along the border, a fabric partition separating the two countries flapped briefly in the wind, revealing "scores, if not hundreds of tanks... thus I saw the battle deployment." (she later reflected on the event in her autobiography)

     After making that horrible discovery, she immediately understood its implications: "I guessed that the German Command was preparing to strike to the north of Katowice and its fortified lines and this, in fact, was exactly how they launched their invasion in the south." At that point, however, Poland was thought to still be in negotiations with Germany. 

     Three days later, on 1 September, 1939, Clare was awoken at 5 A.M. by the sound of tanks rolling past her window. She quickly called her editor, as well as the British and Polish Foreign Offices, each of whom responded with disbelief given that they believed the negotiations to still be ongoing. Frustrated with the response from the British Embassy, she actually dangled the phone out the window so that the official could hear the terrifying rumble for himself. "Listen!" she implored. "Can't you hear it?" After hanging up the phone with him, she called the Telegraph's Warsaw correspondent, who then dictated her story to London. When the story of Germany's invasion of Poland was finally filed, Clare's name was not included on the byline as was common practice for newspapers in those days. Here's what the original looked like:

The Telegraph

     At twenty-seven years old and as a rookie reporter, Clare Hollingwood truly had the scoop of the century. Amazingly, her remarkable life and career only continued from there: as the Nazis moved into Poland, she scrambled to escape their advance, often sleeping in cars, and eventually made it to Romania. Following that she spent much of her life on the front line of numerous major conflicts, including those in the Middle East, North Africa, and Vietnam, for British newspapers. During her remarkable career, she established herself as a fearless, talented, and respected journalist and won numerous awards for her work. She died on 10 January, 2017 at the age of 105 in Hong Kong, where she had been stationed as one of a few Western journalists sent to China in the 1970s. 
     Many thanks to TIME, CTV News, and the Telegraph for information and images. Further reading on this story can be enjoyed at: http://www.ctvnews.ca/world/journalist-who-broke-news-of-second-world-war-clare-hollingworth-dies-at-105-1.3234936 and http://time.com/4520940/clare-hollingworth-war-correspondent-birthday-hong-kong/
     
     I hope you found this story to be as incredible and inspiring as I did. Women like Clare are proof that it is not just the men who get to make history, and that heroes come in all forms.
     Thanks for reading,
     Delany (@DLeitchHistory on Twitter)

World War Wednesdays: World War Women at the Canadian War Museum

     Last week I had the pleasure of taking part in a private tour of the Canadian War Museum in Ottawa with a group of Members of Parliament. The tour included the museum's permanent exhibits as well as a walk through their current special exhibit, World War Women, with one of its creators. The museum and its contents probably rank among my top five favorite things on planet earth, and it was a great excuse to finally see the new exhibit! The nature of the group and tours meant that I was unable to take any photos to share with you, but I thought I'd share some interesting facts about the exhibit along with images courtesy of the Canadian War Museum.

     Here's the official description:
"The First and Second World Wars brought enormous changes to Canadian women’s lives. They adapted to the conditions of total war in practical terms – working, volunteering and serving in uniform. In the wake of war’s inevitable tragedies, they also faced other challenges. The contributions made by women to the Canadian war efforts were crucial, and their experiences forged a new understanding of women’s capabilities both within themselves and within society.
Through artifacts, images, audiovisual material, oral history and text, World War Women delves into the personal stories of the women associated with these materials. It is organized in stand-alone thematic zones, each devoted to an element of the wars that particularly involved and affected women."

     These 'zones' are dedicated to each of the areas in which women contributed to the war effort. For example, there is a section for women who worked in factories, ones who served as nurses, ones who served in Women's Divisions overseas, and all around the outside are little windows into the lives of women who wrote and received letters to and from loved ones who were fighting. At the end, we found ourselves in a room plastered with propaganda posters which gave a sense of how inundated women were at home with instructions to ration, save waste, buy war bonds, not spread any important secrets, and do their duties. It was a powerful ending to a truly moving experience!

Here are some of my favorite featured ladies:

Library and Archives Canada / e010785939

     Lillian Grant, at 23 years of age, was the only woman in the world to sport the Pipe Major’s insignia on her uniform sleeve during the Second World War. An experienced piper, Grant was asked to recruit, train and lead the Canadian Women Army Corps’ Pipe Band.

     Another interesting story which unfortunately does not have an image is that of Minnie Jarvis from London, Ontario. While her fiancé was fighting in Europe during the First World War, he sent her a length of handmade lace. Sadly, he was killed shortly after, and Minnie kept the lace in its original envelope for 62 years before donating it to the War Museum.

CWM 20070060-002. Canadian War Museum

     This item has become one of the exhibit's most familiar symbols. It is an apron worn by Miss Canadas, who sold War Savings Stamps to Canadians on behalf of the government during the Second World War. This particular apron was worn by Barbara McNutt, who was only eleven years old when she signed up to canvass her hometown of Dartmouth, Nova Scotia.

Finally, some interesting facts about Canadian women at war (some might sound familiar if you're a regular reader!):

During the First World War, to raise money for prisoners of war, the Ottawa Women’s Canadian Club sold souvenirs made from the debris of the Centre Block of the Parliament Buildings, which had burned down in 1916. (*** Some great examples of these can be found at the Bytown Museum, Ottawa!***)

During the Second World War, women could purchase pattern books that they could use to knit items for military personnel, including amputation covers.

Women and girls — some as young as 11 years of age — sold 25-cent War Savings Stamps on behalf of the federal government during the Second World War. By the end of the program, they had raised $318 million.

More than 50,000 women served with the Canadian Armed Forces during the two World Wars.

Personnel of the Canadian Women's Army Corps at No. 3 CWAC, collectionscanada

Molly Lamb Bobak was the only female Canadian official war artist sent overseas during the Second World War. She went on to be one of Canada’s most celebrated war artists.

Canadian War Museum

3,000 nurses served in the armed forces, and 2,504 were sent overseas with the Canadian Army Medical Corps during the First World War. Canadian nurses were accorded officer status to discourage fraternization and give them authority over patients.

Department of National Defense

During the Second World War, even with a pilot’s licence, women in the Royal Canadian Air Force-Women’s Division were not permitted to fly.

Women's Division, 1942, No. 1 Technical Training School, St. Thomas, Ontario

In 1942, the Canadian Women’s Army Corps established the first all-female military pipe band.

pipesforfreedom.com

During the Second World War, more than 300,000 Canadian women held jobs related to war production.

Defence Industries Limited, Ajax, Ontario

In 1942, more than 100 contestants from Canada’s major military manufacturing plants vied for the title of “Miss War Worker.” The winner, Dorothy Linham, starred in a Palmolive Soap advertisement.

At the end of the Second World War, only three of the 3,000 women employed at the Canadian Car and Foundry plant kept their jobs.

Women soldering and assembling cables for airplanes, Canadian Car and Foundry Co., 1945.

During the two World Wars, approximately 100,000 Silver Crosses were given to the mothers and wives of soldiers who were killed.

  Special thanks to the Canadian War Museum for the information and images (unless otherwise labelled). The exhibit remains open until April 3rd so if you have the opportunity, I highly recommend experiencing it while it's still here!

    Thanks for reading,
Delany (@DLeitchHistory on Twitter)  

World War Wednesdays: From Gloves to Grease: Princess Elizabeth During WWII

    One of the most fascinating aspects of the Second World War is the way in which it affected every person who lived through it. People around the world of all ages and social standing, both males and females, were thrown into the chaos. We regularly discuss local folks and everyday heroes who rose to the occasion and made their mark on history, but I thought it would be interesting this week to talk about how our current and longest-reigning monarch answered the call and got her hands dirty with the best of them.

     When war was declared in September 1939, King George V and Queen Elizabeth sent the two young princesses, Elizabeth and Margaret to live at Windsor Castle, just outside London because they felt it would be safer than Buckingham Palace. The girls' parents remained at the palace and visited them on weekends. The Royal Mews were also moved to the castle, where the horses were put to work on the farm. The sisters remained there until the end of the war in 1945. Many people thought it was dangerous for the King and Queen to remain in the city during the heavy bombing of the Blitz in 1940, but Queen Elizabeth insisted, "The princesses will not leave us, I cannot leave the King and the King will never leave".

     During the height of the Battle of Britain, the young princess gave her first public address on 13 October 1940. Broadcast over the radio during the BBC Children's Hour, it was a message to British youngsters who had been evacuated from the cities to safety in the Empire. A 1947 article by Irving Wallace for Collier's magazine describes this address:
     "In a voice very much like her mother's, pretending to read from a script she had already memorized, Elizabeth went through her paces while her sister Margaret stood at a distance behind her, and the king and queen watched from an adjacent room. As she finished her last words, Elizabeth suddenly stopped, said extemporaneously, "My sister is by my side, and we are both going to say good night to you-- come on, Margaret!" Margaret appeared, murmured good night, and then Elizabeth returned to the microphone and added, "Good night, and good luck to you all!" Since royalty never extemporizes on official occasions, this interjection shook her parents, but created a happy sensation throughout the Empire."
     You can hear the speech here:https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=89CJ_8lqDdA

     By 1942, young Elizabeth was sixteen years old. According to Wallace, she wanted to join up in one of the women's services to do her part in the war effort. Her father took it up with the Minister of Labor, but it was decided that Elizabeth's training for the throne was most important and she should not enlist in anything. Feeling that she would be a slacker and carry the guilt for the rest of her life, she relentlessly persisted. Just before her nineteenth birthday in 1945, her father finally gave in and she joined the Auxiliary Territorial Service (ATS) as an auto mechanic and driver. Though she still slept at the castle, she spent her days working with oil, valves, and engines from 10:00 to 5:00. One of her greatest joys was getting dirt under her nails and grease stains on her hands to show to her friends. Here is a clip of her in action: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R2grMaRttws

Elizabeth (far right) has her work inspected by her parents

     The training was accepted by her parents until it came time for her to be put into real action. Wallace describes the anxiety caused by her final test as a truck driver:
     "At graduation, a new crisis was provoked. Every ATS student, for her final exam, was was required to drive a truck from the camp to busy London. The king and queen went into a hurried conference with Mr. Herbert Morrison, the Home Secretary, about this. It was agreed that Elizabeth must not take this exam, since she might be involved in an accident. When the trio came out to announce their decision, they found a grinning Elizabeth guiding a lumbering camouflage truck into the palace gates. She had made the complete journey, from Chamberley to London, through the thickest traffic and twice around Piccadilly Circus, on her own, because she wanted to attend a party at the palace-- and hear the royal decision on her final exam."

     At any rate, the war ended soon after she finished her training. On 8 May 1945, VE Day, Elizabeth appeared with her parents, Margaret, and Winston Churchill on the Buckingham Palace balcony to greet the cheering crowds. In the evening, the two princesses, escorted by police officers, were allowed to mingle among the crowds celebrating the end of the war.

     I hope this post sheds some light on what a spirited and plucky young girl the Queen was, and how hard she tried to contribute to the struggle being carried on by her people. Wallace's article is courtesy of www.oldmagazinearticles.com, and other information is supplemented by annefrankguide.net. 

     Thanks for reading,
Delany (@DLeitchHistory on Twitter)

P.S. Stay tuned next week for a very interesting post which I was eager to make this week but have been asked to postpone!

World War Wednesdays: The RCAF Women's Division at No. 4 B&G, Fingal

     "Women Serve That Men May Fly"-- fly to save-- to do or die,

Fly to make our world secure-- fly to keep our record pure.

We joined to do our bit, you know-- dull or exciting, fast or slow.

"Women Serve That Men May Fly"-- even as you? Even as I?

Men will fly and women serve, till the scrap is won--

Ne'er a Briton quits his post, till the job is done. 

Men will fly if we but serve with a willing grace--

Keep our chins up-- serve as they-- with a smiling face.

"Women Serve That Men May Fly"-- make it service with a smile;

'Tis the spirit in the job we do that makes it worth the while.

Then, when the peace is justly won, we'll turn with heads held high

To peace-time jobs and peace-time joys-- we helped to cast the die.

(Published in the February-March 1943 edition of the Fingal Observer)

     On 2 July 1941, an Order-in-Council authorized the formation of the Canadian Women's Auxiliary Air Force, later re-designated the RCAF Women's Division ("WDs") on 3 February 1942. A training depot opened in October 1941 at Toronto's Havergal Girls' College, and became No. 6 Manning Depot on 11 April, 1942. A second depot, No. 7, followed at Rockcliffe. In January 1942, the WDs numbered 1,583, and by July there were over 5,000. On 22 February, 1943, a CBC Radio broadcast announced the enrollment of the 10,000th volunteer. In total, some 17,038 women enrolled before recruitment ended in the Spring of 1944.

     Both trades and pay for the women were limited at first, with the ladies earning only 80% of their male counterparts, but mechanical and electrical trades were eventually added. The WDs constituted about 8% of RCAF strength, and during the war 34 were killed or died on active service. Many also received awards and medals for their service.

     The WDs of the No. 4 Bombing and Gunnery School at Fingal played a major role in the function of the school, and assisted with the majority of ongoing operations at the station. They worked in places like the photo section, motor transport, tower operations, mail, and mess. These WDs basically did everything but fly, and it has been said that their unofficial motto became "We serve so men can fly".

Staff of the school's accounting station, February 1943

Memories of the Fingal WDs

     

     From Cpl. Harry Brown, RCAF Motor Boat Crewman at No. 4 B&G, Fingal:

"In late 1942, something new was added to the RCAF. The Women's Division was formed and a lot of people thought it would not work, but it did work well in spite of the predicted doom. The airwomen put the airmen to shame; they were neater and far surpassed the men at drill and marching. They relieved the men from duties that were not essential to the war effort. They ran the mess halls, performed the clerical duties in the headquarters, drove truck, refueled aircraft and did various other tasks in the hangers. It was an amazing phenomenon to see how quickly the airmen became more careful of their appearance. What a wonderful influence woman has over man. I salute the ladies for the superior job performed in spite of the odds against them and for the contribution they made to the war effort."

From Former Fingal WDs Margaret Davis and Dorothy Schick (Taylor) after being posted to Halifax, in a letter to the editor Fingal Observer February-March 1943:

     "Dear "Fingalites":

Greetings from two "Fingalites" in Halifax. We just received the January edition of the Fingal Observer and to two lonely WDs it sure hit the spot.It's been five months since we left No. 4 School and we can truthfully say the months we spent at Fingal were our happiest.

     Back in August four scared WDs passed through the gates of Fingal for the last time (with tearful eyes, I might add), and scared wasn't the word for what we were, terrified is better.

     When we heard we had been posted to Halifax (after all the things we had heard about it), the bottom fell out of our world (but not for long). There was "Smitty" from the plotting office, Germain from the logroom, Schick (pardon me, I mean Mrs. Taylor) from the library, and yours truly from Maintenance Control Room, but alas, the happy foursome has been broken up. Smitty and Germain have gone back to Rockcliffe for a course and they have left behind two lonely WDs in the "Gateway to Canada" (so they tell us).

     Since we have been here we have had the privilege of seeing a number of "Fingalites" as they waited to cross the pond-- F/Sgt. Reynolds, whom a lot of people will remember, F/L Lamb from Maintenance, Sgt. Observer "Tiny" Blake Merrick, now a P/O, F/O Sprinkle of the old BR Sqdrn, boys from the fire hall and ground crew from the different Hangars. Sgt. Bob Gray was on the station (although it was our misfortune not to see him), and we hear he was recently nabbed by Cupid and handed our very good friend her diamond ring. Congratulations, Givens. Latest additions to our station have been S/O Little and Ma'am Fulton. It sure feels like home to see a familiar face around town. 

     Dot Schick (Taylor) and myself enjoy our work very much, we're called Clerk Ops.-- meaning we work in operations. Dot works in the Filter Room and I struggle in Flying Control, which is all we can tell you about our work. You know the old saying, "military secret."

     We'd like to say hello to all our old friends at Fingal-- if they still remember us. In case they don't, we're enclosing a snapshot of us, taken in Halifax, to refresh their memories.

     We wonder (in our spare time) just how many of the original girls who arrived at Fingal on May 25th (just in time for a wings parade-- remember, kids?) are still at our favorite station. Not many is my guess.

     So long for now, Fingalites, and the best of luck to you all.

       Two faithful fans, 

Margaret Davis,

Dorothy Schick (Taylor)

     I hope this week's post sheds some light on the incredible group of gals who served at Fingal during the war, as well as the remarkable relationships that were formed between all who spent time there. Driving through the town today, it's hard to believe that such a large group of people have some of their best lifetime memories in Fingal, Ontario, but it really was a treasured place for students and employees from all over the world.

     Information for this post comes from local historian Blair Ferguson's book Southwold Remembers: The Fingal Observer, No. 4 B&G School as well as the February-March 1943 edition of the Fingal Observer. 

                   Thanks for reading,

Delany