Great Women Building a Gracious World

Editors:                                                                                                                                                  Volume 1, Issue 2

Sandra Bennett                                                                                                                          September/October 2006

LeslieShelor                                                                                                                                                                               

Telulah in the Roving, by Carey Shaw
 

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World War II Socks

Stepping Back in Time: Recreating Australian Army Socks

Article by Carol Denehy

 

 

In late 2005, a call went out in the Internet knitting circles in Australia for someone to assist a gentleman recreating an Australian World War II Army uniform, and needing socks. Since I had knit dozens of socks I thought “How hard can this be?” and sent off an email offering my services. Thus began an exercise that took over six months, and not because I am a slow knitter.

 

First I learned that Australian Army socks were knee-high. That’s a lot more socks than I had knit before, although the socks I knit for myself are longer than average for women’s socks. Australian Army uniforms today include a summer version with shorts and knee high socks are worn with them. In WWII, all socks were wool, despite the fact that most of the fighting was done in warm climates. My client had tried to find similar socks but was confused when he was unable to find any labeled “100% merino wool“ which is what he knew he needed. What was marketed as merino wool in the 1940s is not what one would find today with that label. I explained to him that the merino label now meant a luxury fiber and was carefully selected for fineness. In older times all the wool clip was combined into homogenous bales and the selection of superfine merino for fine fashion was not as important

 

Then we embarked upon a search for a pattern. There are plenty of easily-available patterns available for American Army socks but they are not the knee high type. My client sent me example socks, authentic ones which were minus the heels, and contemporary ones, which are not wool and are not authentic to his needs. I consulted with the Australian War Memorial, who after assuring me they had such a pattern, sent me a very generic “how to knit socks” flyer which was not what I needed. I work at the National Library of Australia and I knew we had a sizable collection of vintage knitting patterns, since I had helped organize them. I didn’t recall seeing a pattern for Army socks but I thought I’d try going through the hundreds of patterns to see if I could find anything. To my delight, one of the first Patons’ leaflets I found was a flyer for knitting garments for servicemen. I finally had a pattern that looked like it was designed to match the socks he had sent. Subsequently I found more leaflets like the attached.

 

My next battle was to get suitable knitting material. I tried standard sock wool and could not match the gauge of 9 stitches per inch so I set out on a search for finer yarn. How much finer did I need? How do you tell how fine you need to get a certain gauge when you have to order via mail order? There is no LYS in Canberra, where I live, that stocks a range of fine-weight wool so I went out looking online. I ordered one after the other, and seemed to meet “not in stock” too frequently. I had already realized I would have to dye them after knitting since the pattern called for “Patons’ Army Sock Wool” which was available in the 1940’s but is no longer. I finally remembered that Bendigo Woolen Mills in Bendigo, Victoria, sold wool in weights that Australians call 2- and 3-ply (sock wool is normally judged to be 4-ply, as is most baby wool) so I ordered some 3-ply and with size 0 needles (2.mm) I was able to get my gauge.

 

So, the knitting began. I was surprised that the pattern called for casting on 81 stitches. At a gauge of 9 stitches per inch, this made a rather skinny leg. Did men in the 1940’s have thinner legs? Were the socks expected to stretch over time? My client assured me he didn’t intend wearing them, so I didn’t worry about them fitting a real person. Eight inches of ribbing at the top (folded over) preceded the sock leg proper. From there on it was a pretty basic 4x1 rib, with a further narrowing at the ankle and a surprisingly short foot of 6” before toe decreases. The pattern was quite casual about the foot part of the sock, assuming I suppose, that everyone knew how to knit the foot of a sock. In the photo the sample sock is between my two completed socks.

 

When I finally had my two socks complete, it was time to approach the dyeing. The example socks my client had sent me looked to be a faded olive drab. He had supplied me with dye that is sold in stores near the military bases as “hosiery tan” and “khaki”. The khaki looked very green and the tan looked very tan. The directions given with the dye sounded as if they were standard for an acid dye. I dissolved the tan dye and brought my dye pot to a simmer. I had 2 test swatches that came from my gauge experiments. I put the first one in, and began to watch since the instructions called for boiling for 20 minutes. After 5 minutes the test swatch was already too darkly colored and way too orange. I pulled it out and tried adding the greenish “khaki” dye to tone down the orange and tried my second test. Still the dye struck far to strongly and was only slightly less orange than the first try. I had no more dyes to try, and no more test swatches. I could not recall any dyes I was familiar with that would give the colour I was aiming at, so I threw the socks in and let them simmer for about 10 minutes before retrieving them and rinsing. They were far too orange but I hoped when dry would be better looking. Unfortunately, they were still butterscotch when dry. After some musing on dyes and complementary colours, I decided to over-dye the too-orange socks with blue acid dye and it did the trick. The colour is not as good as it would have been had I started out with a green/tan dye to begin with, but they will certainly not shout under the trousers of the World War II soldier’s uniform. My client informs me that there is quite a range of colours in the authentic materials he acquires and what was standard issue for fighting in the desert at the beginning of the conflict was not the same as used for jungle-warfare at the end. Some of his garments look like they started off tan and were later died green.

 

It has been an interesting experience and I have great admiration for all the women during the conflict who churned out so many pairs of socks, knitting in the dark, with wool probably a lot less finely prepared than what we expect today, and who were trying to make an effort to support the war effort.

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Carol is an accomplished spinner and creative knitter and blogs about her life in Australia and her work at Swanknitter.