Knitting for victory - How knitting helped us win WW2

If you've ever heard a modern-day fighter plane roaring over your village, town or city at low altitude, you'll have a basic idea of how utterly terrifying it must be to live in a war zone, a place an enemy is hell bent on destroying. Multiply that incredibly loud and frightening roar and you get a little closer to what it must have been like for the British people during World War Two. No wonder they knitted. But knitting in WW2 was about much more than 'making do and mending'. Here's an insight into why our ancestors knitted their hearts out as Hitler's bombs rained down.

Unpicking and re-knitting

It's tricky to do with modern knits, often impossible. But back then you'd be able to unpick a jumper, tank top or cardi, roll the wool into a fresh ball and use it to knit another garment.

It's interesting how things have come a full circle. Back in the 1930s and 40s waste was not tolerated. Out little island was cut off by U-boats and warships, determined to sink vessels bringing in supplies and prevent exports of fighting men and the machinery of war. Clothing was strictly rationed, and a woolly jumper was a precious thing. Today, once again, we're realising the real worth of seemingly simple items, thinking about extending their lives or changing their purpose rather than just chucking them in the bin without a second thought.

Knitting for Victory

Knitting was a lot more than a hobby during wartime. It was patriotic, almost a duty. Literally millions of people across the UK, Europe and outwards into allied nations like Canada and Australia, knitted socks, mittens and more for the troops abroad. Back then, if you weren't fighting, knitting needles were your deadliest weapon. Men knitted, children knitted, the Royal Family knitted, everyone knitted.

Trench foot was a dreaded enemy in the trenches. It could result in limbs being amputated, or even death from infection. Dry socks were the answer, and the British public sent literally millions of hand-knitted pairs over the channel. We also knitted jumpers, special sea boot stockings, woollen vests, balaclavas, scarves, helmet caps and – distressingly - amputation covers to protect the stumps left behind. Many knitters wrote little notes to stuff into the socks and hats, to encourage the soldiers and cheer them on.

Servicewomen were also in need of warm gear. They wore hand-knitted hats, gloves, socks, jumpers, cardigans and even all-in-one knitted underwear.

Being bombed? Keep calm and carry on knitting

As you can imagine, it's pretty stressful being bombed and even more stressful waiting for your loved ones to come home from the front... or not. The alternative – a dreaded telegram from the War Office – didn't bear thinking about. So we also knitted to relieve the awful, constant, nagging anxiety of waiting for a letter from a loved one fighting abroad, to shut out the terror that they might not come home. Worries that the war might carry on for another year, another five years. And concerns over what would happen if the allies lost the fight and the Nazis took over.

Knitting as therapy

There's something about the rhythmic, calm click of the needles and the need to concentrate on a complicated pattern that distracts the mind from concerns and helps get them back into some kind of perspective. Many soldiers returned home to 'Blighty' with appalling physical and mental injuries. They were also taught to knit, as a form of simple yet effective therapy.

Secret codes – Knitting as espionage

At one point Britain's Office of Censorship banned people from posting knitting patterns abroad, worried the patterns may contain coded messages. It may sound odd but knitting was actually used by the Belgia resistance, who recruited teams of old ladies whose homes overlooked railway yards. The ladies let the allies know how many trains were coming and going by using very simple code, things like knit one for one kind of train, purl one for another, drop a stitch for yet another.

Here's a great example. As the Atlas Obscura website says:

"Phyllis Latour Doyle, secret agent for Britain during World War II, spent the war years sneaking information to the British using knitting as a cover. She parachuted into occupied Normandy in 1944 and rode stashed bicycles to troops, chatting with German soldiers under the pretence of being helpful—then, she would return to her knitting kit, in which she hid a silk yarn ready to be filled with secret knotted messages, which she would translate using Morse Code equipment."

And another example from the same source:

"British Secret Intelligence agents hired spies in occupied areas who would pose as ordinary citizens doing ordinary things, which sometimes included knitting. Madame Levengle was one such woman, who would sit in front of her window knitting, while tapping signals with her heels to her children in the room below."

Knitting - Enjoying a dramatic contemporary revival

Roll time forward to today and knitting clubs are held on the Brighton to London commuter train, enjoyed by work-frazzled people who want to chill out on the way home. Plenty of men are taking up knitting. The worldwide recycling/re-purposing revolution means we're wasting less, creating more. The world might change, but knitting remains the same – a sure-fire way to relax, express your creativity, and make something genuinely useful.

There's something about the rhythmic, calm click of the needles and the need to concentrate on a complicated pattern that distracts the mind from everyday concerns and helps you grab back some perspective. If you fancy getting into knitting, explore our knitting wool suppliers website to discover some of the most beautiful, inspirational yarns in the nation as well as fibre and felt, haberdashery, gifts and more.