 |
In August
1914, Admiral Charles Fitzgerald founded the Order of the White Feather.
With the support of leading writers such as Mary Ward and Emma Orczy,
the organisation encouraged women to give out white feathers to young
men who had not joined the British Army.
One young woman remembers her father,
Robert Smith, being given a feather on his way home from work:
"That night he came home and cried his heart out. My father was no
coward, but had been reluctant to leave his family. He was thirty-four
and my mother, who had two young children, had been suffering from a
serious illness. Soon after this incident my father joined the
army."
The government became concerned when
women began presenting state employees with white feathers. It was
suggested to Reginald McKenna, the Home Secretary, that these women
should be arrested for "conduct likely to disrupt the
police". |
| McKenna
refused but he did arrange for state employees to be issued with badges
testifying that they were serving 'King and Country'.
Although he was a serving soldier, the
writer, Compton Mackenzie, complained about the activities of the Order
of the White Feather.
He argued that these "idiotic young women
were using white feathers to get rid of boyfriends of whom they were
tired".
The pacifist, Fenner Brockway, claimed that he received so
many white feathers he had enough to make a fan.
James Lovegrove was only sixteen
when he joined the British Army on the outbreak of the First World War.
"On
my way to work one morning a group of women surrounded me. They started
shouting and yelling at me, calling me all sorts of names for not being
a soldier!
|
 |
Do you know what they did? They struck a white feather in my
coat, meaning I was a coward. Oh, I did feel dreadful, so ashamed.
I went to the recruiting office. The sergeant there couldn't stop
laughing at me, saying things like "Looking for your father,
sonny?", and "Come back next year when the war's over!"
Well, I must have looked so crestfallen that he said "Let's check
your measurements again". You see, I was five foot six inches and
only about eight and a half stone. This time he made me out to be about
six feet tall and twelve stone, at least, that is what he wrote down.
All lies of course - but I was in!"
William
Brooks
Once war broke out the situation
at home became awful, because people did not like to see men or lads of
army age walking about in civilian clothing, or not in uniform of some
sort, especially in a military town like Woolwich. Women were the worst.
They would come up to you in the street and give you a white feather, or
stick it in the lapel of your coat. A white feather is the sign of
cowardice, so they meant you were a coward and that you should be in the
army doing your bit for King and Country.
It got so bad it wasn't safe to go out. So in 1915 at the age of
seventeen I volunteered under the Lord Derby scheme. Now that was a
thing where once you applied to join you were not called up at once, but
were given a blue armband with a red crown to wear. This told people
that you were waiting to be called up, and that kept you safe, or fairly
safe, because if you were seen to be wearing it for too long the abuse
in the street would soon start again.
The following poem was used as
"ammunition" by the "White Feather Brigade".
"What will you lack, sonny,
what will you lack,
When the girls line up the street
Shouting their love to the lads to come back
From the foe they rushed to beat?
Will you send a strangled cheer to the sky
And grin till your cheeks are red?
But what will you lack when your mate goes by
With a girl who cuts you dead?
Where will you look, sonny,
where will you look,
When your children yet to be
Clamour to learn of the part you took
In the War that kept men free?
Will you say it was naught to you if France
Stood up to her foe or bunked?
But where will you look when they give the glance
That tells you they know you funked?
How will you fare, sonny, how
will you fare
In the far-off winter night,
When you sit by the fire in an old man's chair
And your neighbours talk of the fight?
Will you slink away, as it were from a blow,
Your old head shamed and bent?
Or say - I was not with the first to go,
But I went, thank God, I went?
Why do they call, sonny, why do
they call
For men who are brave and strong?
Is it naught to you if your country fall,
And Right is smashed by Wrong?
Is it football still and the picture show,
The pub and the betting odds,
When your brothers stand to the tyrant's blow,
And England's call is God's!"
|