By Joanna Foat, novelist, historian and expert on the Women’s Timber Corps

Summer 1940. As bombs fell over London, another battle was raging deep within Britain’s forests. A war few men believed women were strong enough to fight...

But those men had never met the World War II women known as the Lumberjills before! I discovered these were incredibly inspiring, strong women from history.

Lumberjills moving a tree. Photo: Doris Youde (nee Stanyon)

While working for the Forestry Commission years ago, I heard rumours of a forgotten army of women who had served in Britain’s forests during the Second World War. There had been as many as fifteen thousand—so how had I never heard of the Women’s Timber Corps?

The Lumberjills were barely mentioned in history books or online, and few people had ever heard of them. Only one sample folder relating to the Women’s Timber Corps survived in The National Archives; the rest of its records had been destroyed.

My father had given me an axe for Christmas when I was younger, as I loved chopping wood for the fire. I thought, if I had I been born just fifty years earlier, maybe I would have been a Lumberjill. I was determined to uncover their coming of age story, so I travelled the country to interview more than sixty former Lumberjills.

Through their own words, I discovered the vital and dangerous work they had performed for Britain in the Second World War—and the laughter, friendships, prejudice and hardships that shaped their lives.

Crosscutting with bushman saw in woods. Photo: Doris Youde (née Stanyon).

Britain’s Urgent Need For Timber

In 1939, Britain was the largest importer of timber in the world, with 96 per cent of its wood coming from overseas. Only four per cent was home-grown, and there were just 14,000 men working in forestry. Wood was essential to the war effort. Millions of tonnes were needed for pit props to keep coal mines operating, as well as for railway sleepers, telegraph poles, aircraft, ammunition boxes, rifle butts and countless other military uses.

Yet many male workers had been called up to fight, creating a desperate shortage of labour. At first, the government resisted employing women. They were regarded as the “fairer sex”, incapable of coping with the physical demands of forestry. Officials looked instead to male prisoners, dockyard workers, students and even schoolboys. Meanwhile, women were waiting to "do their bit" for the war like their brothers.

Before the war, they were domestic servants, shop assistants, secretaries and factory workers. Dorothy, a hairdresser from Derbyshire, could not have imagined how dramatically her life would change. She literally swapped her scissors and comb for an axe and crosscut saw.

Lumberjill Marion King felling a tree

Initially, the women were ridiculed and regarded as more ornamental than useful. Yet, with blistered hands and aching muscles, they learned to fell trees, strip branches, operate sawmills, calculate timber measurements, drive tractors and haul enormous loads.

They carried logs like weightlifters, rode on top of timber lorries as they travelled through the forests and shattered deeply rooted assumptions about what women were capable of.

Lumberjill Jessie MacLean remembered: “How often, when travelling about, were we asked by members of various military units, ‘What regiment are you in?’ We…went on to try to explain our work: felling, snedding, peeling—oh, the pain!—saw bench, stacking, horses and tractors. They didn’t believe any of this.”

One sailor listened in amazement before concluding: “Oh, you work for Bryant and May then, making matches.” “Talk about the hackles rising,” Jessie recalled.

Pulling off the resaw bench. Photo: Doris Youde (née Stanyon)

Training the Lumberjills

The Women’s Timber Corps was officially established in England in April 1942. Every month hundreds of recruits were sent to forestry training centres, including Culford near Bury St Edmunds in Suffolk and the Royal Ordnance Factory hostel near Wetherby in Yorkshire.

Heather Rumsby wrote to her parents about her first twenty-four hours at Wetherby: “There seems to be an overwhelming amount to tell you! We are waiting in our bedroom clad in vest and pants for a medical inspection. It’s just like getting into the army—we even had to give our next of kin.”

The women generally received four to six weeks of training, learning to wield axes and crosscut saws, work with horses, operate dangerous sawmills and handle timber haulage.

But many learnt on the job with little guidance. Margaret Finch was working at Epping Green in Hertfordshire when her foreman arrived with a fifty-five-foot articulated lorry. He gave her the keys and told her to deliver a load of trees to Welwyn Garden City railway station, seven miles away.

Margaret’s felling partner, Jean, could not ride a bicycle, while Margaret knew nothing about cars or lorries. Nevertheless, because she could ride a bicycle, she was elected driver. Neither woman knew what the gear stick was for.

They made it to Welwyn Garden City, where a policeman stepped into the road and informed them they were travelling the wrong way along a one-way street. He told them to reverse to the turning.

“We looked at each other and laughed,” Margaret recalled, “and then said, ‘We don’t know how to reverse; we only know how to go forward.’”

Tractor driver hauling tree. Photo: Doris Youde (née Stanyon)

The Forgotten Army

The Lumberjills proved they could do exactly the same jobs as the men, but their service was not equally valued. They endured prejudice, lower wages and suspicion, and when the war ended they received no medals, grants or gratuities. They were not even allowed to take part in Remembrance Day parades.

Lumberjill Audrey Broad told me: “It was only years later that I began to realise that we were not appreciated for what we had done. We should have got some recognition. We didn’t get any money. We weren’t even allowed to keep our uniforms. I thought that was dreadful.”

Almost every Lumberjill I met spoke of the hurt caused by this lack of recognition. They had supplied essential timber, undertaken dangerous work and challenged society’s expectations of women, yet their contribution had been ignored.

I became determined to give them a voice and ensure their stories were preserved for future generations. I first wrote the non-fiction history book Lumberjills: Britain’s Forgotten Army, using the women’s own words. Since then, I have continued sharing their experiences through talks, exhibitions, national commemorations—including the VE Day 80 celebrations at the Royal Albert Hall—and my historical fiction series, The Lumberjills.

Non-fiction: Lumberjills Britain's Forgotten Army

From Real Lives to Fiction

One of the first women I interviewed was Eileen Mark, née Worsell. Eileen grew up in Hackney and worked in a glass factory making baby bottles and poison bottles before joining the Women’s Timber Corps.

She was full of life and a sense of adventure. “I was always up for a laugh,” she told me, “and if anyone was going to get into trouble, it would be me.”

After meeting her, I remember thinking that the Lumberjills’ experiences would make an incredible film or television series. A screenwriter suggested I write a novel first—so I did.

Eileen became the inspiration for Rosie, my seventeen-year-old Cockney character. I gave Rosie the surname Worsell because I wanted readers to know that, although fictional, she was rooted in the life of a real Lumberjill.

Many of Eileen’s stories found their way into the novels. One time after stacking pit props beside a road, she discovered that they had mysteriously disappeared. Furious, she marched into a nearby anti-aircraft camp and demanded an explanation. The soldiers admitted burning the wood on a campfire.

Their sergeant apologised, offered Eileen tea and cake and introduced himself as Wally. He later became her husband, and they were married for fifty-four years.

Lumberjill Eileen Mark (nee Worsell)

Stories such as this showed me that the Lumberjills’ lives contained not only hardship, but humour, friendship, courage and unexpected romance.

My central characters allowed me to explore the wartime experiences and coming of age for women from different backgrounds. Alongside Rosie, who is from London, Keeva O’Connor is a wild child brought up with the freedom of living in the countryside. While Beatrice is a debutante with a privileged upbringing. Each one has their secrets, upsets and has a lot to discover from their fellow Lumberjills.

They come from different backgrounds, but wartime forestry brings their lives together as it did for the real Lumberjills. Through their friendships, disagreements, loyalties and secrets, I could explore how women who might never have met in peacetime learned to understand, depend upon one another and become great friends.

The novels are inspired by real events and women, but fiction enables me to go beyond. It allows me to feel the vibration of a crosscut saw, hear an approaching enemy aircraft or follow a young woman’s thoughts as she realises she is capable of far more than she has been taught to believe.

Novel: There Lumberjills Under Suspicion

Under Suspicion

During my research, I discovered that prejudice, suspicion and mistrust recurred throughout the women’s stories. Their physical work was difficult enough, but this emotional pressure could make it harder still.

There were numerous accounts of Lumberjills being reported to the police for “behaving suspiciously” in the woods. Sylvia Evans, whose photograph appears on the cover of my history book, was arrested simply for waiting at a bus stop. Her son told me that she was tall and blonde and wore jodhpurs, so the police thought she looked German. She spent the night in a cell before being released.

The women were not always greeted warmly in the communities where they were posted. Lumberjill Barbara Beddow recalled that local people regarded them as “a bit wild and too free”. They had left home, travelled independently and earned their own wages—freedoms many young women had never experienced. Their independence challenged expectations, and that tension became central to my second novel, The Lumberjills: Under Suspicion.

I wanted to show that the greatest obstacles were not always the trees they had to fell, but the attitudes they confronted every day.

Novel: The Lumberjills Stronger Together

Stronger Together

Resilience, friendship and courage run through the real women’s stories and my fictional characters’ lives. Many Lumberjills formed friendships that lasted for the rest of their lives.

Jessie MacLean said: “The Women’s Timber Corps helped me to discover my love of travelling, as well as being responsible for a very great happiness in my life, then and now. True friends, we shared joys and sorrows and helped one another through difficult times. I would not have changed anything. Heart breaking to leave.”

Their story still matters today. Women’s choices continue to be narrowed by unconscious bias, family expectations, peer pressure and assumptions within education and the workplace. The Lumberjills demonstrate what can happen when women are given opportunities beyond the conventional paths laid out for them.

They also show the importance of female solidarity. Confronted by prejudice, harassment and danger, the women defended and encouraged one another. They became stronger by working together and standing up for one another.

The Lumberjills have made me laugh and cry. They have inspired me and become my role models. Whenever life has felt difficult, writing about them has made me feel strong again—as though they were beside me in spirit, keeping me going. I hope other women will draw strength from them too.

The Lumberjills: Under Suspicion

Four women. One war. A forest full of secrets.

In the villages, trust is fragile, doors slam in their faces and suspicion grows. Romance kindles, rumours spread and friendships are tested. When the Lumberjills are accused of espionage, can Keeva uncover the truth before prejudice tears their tender bonds of sisterhood apart?

Inspired by true events, this is the latest novel by Joanna Foat. A gripping story of resilience, friendship and love, bringing to life the forgotten story of the Lumberjills in World War Two.

Author, Joanna Foat

About the author Joanna Foat is a novelist, historian and one of Britain’s leading experts on the Women’s Timber Corps. She interviewed more than sixty former Lumberjills for her non-fiction history, Lumberjills: Britain’s Forgotten Army, published The Lumberjills photobook and has spent over a decade preserving and sharing their stories.

She is the author of The Lumberjills: Stronger Together and The Lumberjills: Under Suspicion, the first two novels in a planned trilogy. Joanna has presented the Lumberjills’ story through more than 250 public talks, television and radio appearances, exhibitions created with Forestry England and the VE Day 80 celebrations at the Royal Albert Hall.

Find out more at www.thelumberjills.uk.