From 1939 until the United States officially entered the second World War in December 1941, home knitters in the US sent garments overseas as part of the “Bundles for Britain” relief effort. According to the Red Cross, by the end of WWII volunteers had knit almost nineteen million garments for active and wounded service men and women at home and abroad. It’s impossible to estimate how many hours American women and girls spent knitting warm clothing for faraway strangers whose fates they would never know. By October 1940, the German bombing campaign of English cities known as the Blitz had severely limited British industry. Through that freezing winter, it became harder and harder for civilians to access wool or warm clothing. By November, over a quarter of London’s population (over 1.4 million people) had evacuated to the countryside, further straining the resources of remote areas. American knitters donated wool, knitting needles, and the labor of their hands to warm the evacuees, many of whom had fled the city with only a single suitcase.
In TATTER’s archive sits a plain manila folder labeled “Knitting Instructions,” stained and tattered by time. Assembled in 1941 by a dedicated home knitter, it contains patterns and related correspondence from British war relief organizations based in the US, primarily the British War Relief Society and American Red Cross. In addition to official British Army patterns for servicemen, such as pull-overs, beanies, stockings, turtleneck inserts, and gloves, the file also contains patterns for women’s sweaters ripped from magazines as well as patterns carefully typed on onion skin leaflets for children’s socks, sweaters, cowls, and hats.
Paging through this file 85 years after its compilation, it’s not so difficult to imagine the feelings of hopelessness and despair many Americans must have felt watching the world descend into war on an unimaginable scale. I can imagine the desire to set my hands to work, because I feel it too. Two weeks ago, I reached out on TATTER’s social media to take a poll for the war relief garment people were most interested in seeing brought to life. The result of our small democratic process was a turtleneck insert, so I set to work.
The instructions are very clear about the importance of proper sizing: a note on the booklet sternly advises that any knit that fails to measure the exact standards listed in the pattern must be unraveled and knit again. The Pittsburgh Red Cross sent out a pamphlet warning that “the necks of sweaters should be made sufficiently large to go over the heads of men, as otherwise the men cut the necks and the sweaters were ruined.” Sizing knitwear can be tricky, especially if you aren’t quite sure what to expect from your knitters’ level of expertise. Some knit tightly, using up more yarn and making smaller, less stretchy garments. Others knit loose, leaving holes for cold air to sneak in through stitches. Though I was less concerned about servicemen cutting open the neckhole of the sample piece, I dutifully made a swatch and then another when my first attempt was too large.
While many knitters used their own supplies on relief projects for civilians, the Red Cross provided wool and needles for military relief knitting. Any wool left over at the end of the project was to be returned with the finished object, though the needles were left with the knitter. The turtleneck insert called for five size nine double pointed needles for the neck and straight needles for the bibs, a somewhat unwieldy combination that was tricky to manage on the subway where I knit on my way to and from work. I knit as I walked to the office, I knit through meetings, I knit at home while waiting for rice to cook, and before I went to sleep. I knit with the dedicated vigor and intensity of someone really trying not to read or think about the news. And it worked, a little bit.
I’m an experienced and quick knitter and this was a small project, just covering the neck and parts of the chest and back. All together it took me around sixteen hours to complete. Sixteen hours for one garment for one part of one person’s body. To knit nineteen million would take lifetimes of work, metric tons of wool. No one person could even hope to complete even a tiny fraction of the work. It requires the constant, thankless, and anonymous work of millions of people in the snatches of time between working and cooking and sleeping and doing the laundry day in and day out. Because of every single one of them, someone in need was warmer.
I hadn’t really thought about how Americans in the late 1930s must have felt during the Blitz, gleaning snatches of unimaginable destruction over the radio, on screens in theaters, in newspaper photos, and in letters from friends and family an ocean away. Now I know it well: the helplessness, the horror, the grief for people and cities I have never met and will never see. As we witness the rise of fascism at home and abroad, my worry extends to my hands, longing for something to do to ameliorate the devastation, to soothe the suffering, to wrap my arms around strangers and keep them safe. Donating money is important, and I do it whenever I can, but it doesn’t stop the restless feeling that comes from wanting to contribute something tangibly in a helpful effort to relieve or show solidarity.
There is something inherently physical about the desire to relieve suffering that most of us have few outlets to achieve on a day-to-day basis. While wartime calls for knitters by the Red Cross are unlikely to be reignited, there are many other outlets for our worried and compassionate hands. Intentional making is indeed a better use of them than the social media doomscrolling many of us resort to. Staying informed and vigilant is important, but it must not paralyze us. Approaching this humble file of wartime knitting patterns quietly issues its own universal and timeless call to action, one that resonates profoundly in this moment of immense change and fear. At TATTER, where we believe in the power of cloth to connect and nurture, we encourage our skillful and resourceful community to find ways to support and care for one another. We hope the work will warm you in return.
Linked below are several organizations whose vital work supplies aid and comfort to people in need.
FOR KNITTERS, CROCHETERS, AND SEWISTS:
Knit Knockers supplies breast forms to breast cancer survivors
Loose Ends finishes projects for loved ones of a crafter who passed with works in progress
Knit the Rainbow gives homemade garments to unhoused queer youth
Warm Up America puts together afghans from volunteer made squares for people in need
Snuggles Project provides shelter animals with comfort objects
Care to Knit distributes handmade garments to shelters, hospitals, and nursing homes
COAT DRIVES:
One Warm Coat can tell you where a coat drive is happening near you!
REFERENCES
Knit Your Bit”: The American Red Cross Knitting Program by Rebecca J. Keyel
The work of the American Red cross during the war: a statement of finances and accomplishments for the period July 1, 1917, to February 28, 1919 by American National Red Cross.
Knitting for Victory — World War II by Paula Becker