Women of the Plywood: World War ll Years

U.S. Plywood at the confluence of the Ahnapee River and its South Branch

Much has been written about what is now Algoma Hardwoods. Founded in 1892 by Mel Perry as the Ahnapee Veneer and Seating Company and later U.S. Plywood and Champion Papers, it was long locally called “the Plywood.” When the company observed its 100th anniversary in 1992, the celebration included a book chronicling its history, but the book made little mention of the women who kept the place going during the World War ll years. The war and defense contracts brought the company a new prominence and a new kind of employee. To read A Century of Quality Woodworking: 1892-1992 Algoma Hardwoods or old Record Herald newspapers, one would scarcely know area women stepped in to take men's places in production during the war.

During the 1990s, Virginia Johnson interviewed a number of former Plywood women employees about their wartime jobs. After 50 years, their memories were identical.  Collette Gerhart and June Poehls worked in the office while Lyla De Meuse, Millie Hardtke, Millie Nimmer and Helen Brunner were among the plant’s production employees. World War ll Plywood employees were predominantly women, but how many were there? Those interviewed for this project guessed women comprised from 50% to 75% of a work force that numbered about 1,000. Estimations changed with the departments, but it was agreed that the "boat works" was almost entirely made up of women. Former company president Ray Birdsall felt (at the time of the interview) that the information was no longer at the Hardwoods and probably no longer exists.

Whether it was 50% or 75% or more, the women did their "duty” in a way few could understand today, 2015. The men left at the plant during the war were young farmers, those beyond draft age or those with physical limitations and deferred from service. Though the women were not bothered by any kind of harassment, spitting tobacco or snuff was an irritant prompting management to provide sawdust-filled boxes to be used as spittoons. Some of the women remembered sweeping up sawdust only to find what was obviously a spit-out plug of tobacco. During its first 50 years, the very few women employed by the company held clerical positions and were quite likely “type-writers.”

A 1912 twentieth anniversary photo shows all 108 male employees who were given white canes and hats for the picture. Lydia Overbeck, the only woman in the picture, is sitting in a carriage with Edgar Parker. A 1915 picture shows 75 employees, all men. The three female office employees were the only women on a photo dating to 1937. Then, on May 9, 1941, Esther Rosengren was recognized. She was the only woman of the 38 employees who had served 20 years. The winds of war were blowing, however, and the employment of women in Algoma’s U.S. Plywood was about to change.

Women had been employed in the textile factories of the northeast well before the turn of the century and in the breweries of Milwaukee following the heavy German immigration to Wisconsin, but women in manufacturing positions in Algoma, Wisconsin, were largely unknown though Algoma Net Co. had women engaged in sewing or weaving.

Following the bombing of Pearl Harbor, the drafting and enlistment of Algoma's men, and defense contracts, women were hired in manufacturing positions for the first time in the Plywood's history. Area women were thrust into positions they would not have accepted in normal times. Married women, especially those with children, rarely worked outside the home and few single women desired employment in a factory, however this was war. Most women were single at the time of their employment and although married women worked at the Plywood, women whose husbands were still working there were not hired. Seventy years later, young people would find it difficult to understand words such as "duty," "commitment" and "pull together" as they applied to the early 1940s.

For young area women, such as Colette Gerhart and Lyla De Meuse who had just graduated from high school, the Plywood jobs presented an opportunity to work. Other women, feeling "looked down on" because they were not involved in the war effort, quit the jobs they had and went to the Plywood. One woman remembered the nice job she had while working for a wealthy family in Manitowoc. Everything was clean and the food was good. She had her own bedroom and bathroom where she could bathe with privacy at any time. After her brother was drafted, she changed jobs in a show of support for the war. For the same wage, she got dust, dirt and the smell of glue, in addition to boarding with an area family and sharing a bathroom to which she had to carry her bath water. Another woman had just married a farmer and took a job at the Plywood as a means of saving money for the purchase of their own farm. 

The women in the office usually worked an eight-hour day, putting in overtime for the quarterly inventories. The normal workday for production employees was 7:00 - 5:00, five days a week, plus 7:00 to noon on Saturdays. Those working in the boat works often put in additional hours. Working married women were still responsible for the all the household chores they would have been doing during peacetime. Even though they worked 50-55 hours a week outside the home, those women whose husbands had not been drafted did not expect them to help with the household work. There were no microwaves, dishwashers, automatic washers and dryers. Hours of ironing followed washing with a wringer machine and hanging clothing on outdoor lines. The fortunate had a carpet sweeper but many were still beating their rugs and carpets. There were gardens to plant and tend, and food to can. Home freezers were non-existent and though some rented freezer space in the locker plant at Algoma Co-op Co. – known as the Farmers’ Store - freezing produce was mostly locally unknown. Area orchards had crops of apples, cherries and pears that needed picking, although some of that was done by German POWs in Door County. There was mending to be done, socks to be darned and clothing to be made. And, farm women had additional chores before and after work. Millie Nimmer was among those who would schedule her week of vacation during haying.

Lyla De Meuse worked in shipping. As large sheets of plywood came from the clipping machines, Lyla and others would sort the mostly birch or basswood panels that were then counted and sent to other parts of the plant. Other women taped the seams of panels that made up airplane wings. Wing frames were made and the plywood pieces were bent and shaped on them. Three small sheets were attached and then three small sheets were crossed the other direction. Women worked with a partner so together they could plane the wing edges to ensure a perfect fit. In addition to wings, airplane noses were made. The women did not remember ever knowing what kinds of planes the wings and noses were made for, but they felt the noses were put on fairly large planes because they were well over 5 feet in diameter. Cockpit canopy parts were made from a variety of chemicals that were soaked and cooked. The resulting material crystallized and looked like glass. Then it was rolled over a form and baked to form a kind of plastic. Lightweight molded airplane seats were also manufactured. Eighty-five percent of the plywood produced in Algoma was used for fuselage skins. Birch panels were converted into tubes at New Rochelle, New York. The tubes were used for masts to house radar tracking equipment.

Most of the women worked in company’s the "boat works." Boat hulls manufactured during the war were light landing craft for more shallow water.  Few realized the Army boat hulls were one of the largest and most complicated pieces of plywood being made in the U.S. Seven layers of strips about five inches wide were stapled over a form and then glued. When the strips - the first and last layers were birch with five layers of spruce in between - went into the cooker, the heat and glue bonded the layers to form something like plastic.

Stapling was a major job in hull manufacturing and women under 5' 2" or 5' 3" were considered too short to do the work. Staplers were hand operated, forcing the women had to lean over into the hull, something a shorter woman could not do.  Although shorter women, such as Helen Nimmer, were unable to work on the hulls, they were able to stand on ladders to work on the plane noses or wings. Wearing leather bands on the wrists helped make the work easier. Those working on boats worked in pairs with eight women on one boat.

The PT boat carrying General Douglas MacArthur from the Bataan Peninsula to Australia was constructed using materials manufactured at the Algoma Plywood. Molded plywood shells were converted into hulls for Coast Guard patrol boats. One of the 18' molded hulls made for the Army was hung from the ceiling for display at the 15th anniversary of the Museum of Modern Art in New York City.

The women in the boat works, and their boss Adam Gutsohn, were a "big party group." Millie Nimmer remembered Mr. Gutsohn setting up tables with cheese, marzipan and fruit during the workday as "just a nice get-together." Later there would be Plywood picnics for employees and their families, and trout boils at the Dug-Out to reward workers in departments that remained injury free for a specific period. A few years after the war, trout boils became the reward to a department reaching one million man-hours without an accident. Although the women in the office were never included in the trout boils, the male office staff was, but by then male office staff was assisting.

Each woman in the boat works was responsible for her tools which included a hand plane, a linoleum-type knife, stapler and staple puller. It was easy to misplace or lose a tool or have it inadvertently picked up by someone else. Millie Hardtke received a $25 award for her suggestion to outfit each woman with her own toolbox. After that, keeping tools together ceased to be a problem.

Some of the women stood on benches to reach the hollows of the hulls and pushed the benches along with their legs. Consistent pressure on the same spot eventually caused infections. Employees were allowed time to visit the doctors who gave them pills and tinctures to paint on their legs. Then there was getting the glue out of one's hair. One of the women had such a glob of it that it was almost impossible to get out at the beauty parlor.

Women working in the glue room ran pieces of wood through the glue machines. There were no fans at first, but windows could be opened. Glue fumes made some ill, it made eyes water and it made rubber gloves a necessity. Unless employees wore two pair of rubber gloves, their hands would turn yellow, and "Plywood rash" was something many of the workers got. Dr. Nesemann gave shots for the glue reactions and Dr. Herschboeck made a mixture of lotions that took the itch away. All the formaldehyde in the glue prompted the women to feel employees got a little "high" or a "jag" from inhaling. It was felt that imported wood also caused rashes. The smell of glue was always in the plant and while there are men with documented health problems, no one seems to know about the possible effects of the glue on the women. 

Women doing clerical work in the plant and kept track of the bonus system, which was in effect for a time. Bonuses were paid for what was perceived as over expectations. When the system failed and was discontinued in April 1946, the women doing that type of clerical work were laid off, although the female clerical staff remained within the main office.

The women in the office wore skirts and blouses with ankle socks and loafers. Few women wore silk stockings because of the rationing and one who had stockings would never take a chance on running a stocking on wood if it was necessary to enter the plant. Women in the manufacturing positions wore loose, pale blue-gray uniforms, much like today's cover-alls except they looked somewhat like long-johns with buttons down the front and a flap at the rear. The flap was held up with buttons rather than a belt. The women had to purchase their own uniforms but were eventually allowed to wear slacks, long sleeved blouses and sweaters, shoes and socks. Men were never required to wear uniforms.

Men inducted into the war were paid 5% of their 1942 wages as a bonus. The women interviewed all reported receiving less salary than men for the same work. They began working for the minimum wage, 35 cents an hour. After several weeks, they were paid 37 1/2 cents, then 40 cents, and then 47 1/2 cents. A few years later, those who could staple in the boat works received an extra 5 cents per hour. By 1947 – after the war - both women's pay and minimum wage stood at 75 cents per hour. During the war, it was felt that men did a "higher level" of work, though they did the same things, and thus earned more. The women accepted the lower wages because of "duty" and the war. Helen Brunner was one of many with husbands serving in the military and because they were sent their husband's allotment, a lower salary was thought to be acceptable as those women did not "need it." Some women felt the pay was good because Algoma didn't have many jobs for young women. While the women did not remember overtime pay, they did remember paid vacations.

A Record Herald editorial on August 28, 1942, encouraged those seeking employment to take positions in Algoma to help the war effort rather than going to the shipyards. The article pointed out that Algoma's industries could return to peacetime work, thus offering some job security. An October 10, 1942, editorial pointed out that all four manufacturing plants in Algoma were engaged in either "war work or work vital to the prosecution of the war" and "not a single plant was working on non-essentials." The editorial continued saying that while the selective service had taken many of the area's men and would take many more, women were responding and filling the men's places. The editorial view was that the city was "going to have to pay" in directing every effort to doing its part to win the war.

An August 1943 Algoma Record Herald reported that five Japanese planes had been shot out of the air over Guadalcanal by Lt. Murray Shubin flying a Lockheed P-38 Lightening plane for which Algoma Plywood supplied parts. The article pointed out that not only was it a red-letter day for Lt. Shubin, but also for the Algoma Plywood. The workers received a pat on the back in a telegram from the assistant chief of the Army's Air Force staff, Major General Giles. In his telegram, he praised those on the production line who "had done your work exceedingly well and I thought you would like to know it." 

A September 1944 Weldwood News article mentioned the July production rally.  Eight-hundred Algoma Plywood employees attended the rally "to rededicate ourselves as free citizens to an all-out effort to produce war material so vitally needed by our Armed forces." Lt. Com. J.F. McEndry, the Naval officer in charge of the program, emphasized not letting down and keeping up an all-out effort. He said the employees were working for the Navy just as "we are” and their efforts were needed to insure victory.

A program marked the completion of the thousandth boat hull manufactured for the Army. During the program Colette Gerhart sang the national anthem, Algoma high school band played martial music and short speeches were presented. As the Weldwood News pointed out, the 1,000 hulls required over 4,600,000 square feet of veneer. After the veneer was cut up, it was glued or stapled to the mandrels using more than thirty million quarter-inch staples along with 7,000 gallons of liquid phenolic resin glue and impregnate.  The 2,000th hull was completed not long after on June 4, 1945.

The September 1944 Weldwood News gave special mention to the "all girl" lay-up crew for their outstanding record over the year. A single hull consisted of more than 600 pieces of veneer "templated to the proper contour." Millie Nimmer, Elda Gerhardt, Marie Matske, Viola Prust and Ruth Mastalir were the best. The article continued pointing out that Mr. Gutsohn was reluctant to have an "all girl" crew but he admitted to being wrong. The crew worked to "high standards on exacting jobs." In addition to handling and laying up the veneer, they drove 6000 staples a day, an accomplishment considered a "good muscle builder."

That same September 1944 Weldwood News pointed out that Maynard Feld and his staff "las femmes" Leona Schley and Millie Hardtke laid up polyfiber radomes like "nobody's business."  It mentioned Evelyn "Berky" Berkovitz, the mathematician who had charge of the cycles of pressing blankets, cooking the domes, checking densities and other jobs in between. The article went on to indicate the other "girls in the group are coming along fine, are proud of their jobs and seldom are absent." Though the article praised the women’s efforts, 70 years later it comes across as patronizing and condescending.

On April 6, 1945, the Plywood and Veneer Company was presented with the Army - Navy "E" in recognition of its contribution to the war effort. Ceremonies were held before a jammed-packed crowd in the Algoma High School auditorium. Florence Rupp, Myrtle Kalchek, Viola Mathis, Grace Sibilsky and Beulah Meyers were among the eight, who represented employees, receiving pins during the ceremony. 

The "E" award celebration and picnic on August 18th, 1945, was one of the biggest events in Algoma's history. About 2,000 employees and their families plus 200 invited guests shared in the festivities. There was a parade, games, food, dancing and prizes. Dorothy Lemkuhl and factory R.N. Gertrude Brice were among the judges for the games. Edith Birdsall, Loretta Ciha, Edith Rock, Ethel Pflughoeft, Eileen Nell, Mary Spaid, Colette Gerhart, Doris Fox, Suzanne Snerbeck, Vera Welk, Linda Moegenburg and Grace Ebert officiated at tug-o-wars, three-legged races, foot races, peanut races, sack races, and other contests. June Poehls and Lyla De Meuse were on the soft ball team. A week later, on the 24th, service pins were given to all those employed over five years - 161 men and Dorothy Lemkuhl.

A Century of Quality Woodworking; 1892-1992 Algoma Hardwoods indicates that before the women came into the plant, it was stripped of its "calendars and other pictures," but according to the women interviewed, they were accepted. Sexual harassment, as it was known years later, did not exist until after the war when the men started coming home and began taking their jobs back. Although women worked in a variety of jobs, they did not run the big machines. They were not part of management or supervisory staff and those who worked in the office were clerical staff.  As the men returned, most of the women were laid off. A few women remained until the boat works was sold to Wagemaker of Michigan, quitting at that point rather than relocating to Michigan.

All the women interviewed felt their most important contribution to the war effort was being there when needed, supplying the necessary equipment to the fighting men. All of them had husbands, family members or friends in the armed services and they all knew men who did not return.

There were rumors of work being secret. In later years some men revealed they had been deferred due to the nature of their work and had security clearances, however none of the women was actually aware of secret work. The Algoma operation was a branch of U.S. Plywood. Headquarters were in New York and there was always someone from New York or another division around. Only certain people were allowed in the boat works, however one of the women felt the secrets were really in the plane parts. Women in the office did not know some of what was going on in the plant. They did not know what some products were used for and did not ask.  After all, the work was for defense.

As the women of the Plywood during the war years looked back, their feeling was that working women (of the mid-1990s) were more equal to men and had higher expectations. They felt working women of the ‘90s were subject to much more stress and were living in a world where things are always changing. Most of the 1940's women worked hard for extra money but were not career minded. They felt it was easier to "make a go of it" then, but that today's capable women "can do." The women felt if a man and woman applied for the same job, the man got it.  If there were two women applicants, the prettiest one was hired first. 

The October 2, 1942, Record Herald editorial was ahead of its time when writing that Algoma citizens thought about the future of industrial and employment opportunities in order that there be a continued "diversity and balance in industry when the war is over and the peace treaty is signed." Hard as it might be to imagine in 2015, the women who responded to the war employment call helped pave the way for rural women of the future. Their granddaughters and great-granddaughters have opportunities because the women knew they “could do” and did.

Sources: Women of the Plywood: The War Years, c. 1995 and used with permission; Algoma Record Herald;  A Century of Quality Woodworking; 1892-1992; Weldwood News, 1944; postcards and photos from the blogger's collection.

Long-time Door County summer residents Dr. Carl Kannerwurf and his wife Patricia Sharpe were well-recognized postal historians who were intrigued by their explorations of Kewaunee County. The 45 mph signs indicated something, and research indicated the something was generally what had been an old postal community.

Finding places such as Zavis, Darbellay, Royal Creek, Casco Pier and more, were those few had ever heard of.  Curiosity drove them to discover the 45 Kewaunee County post offices documented in the Library of Congress. Years of in-depth research followed. The resulting history is found in Here Comes the Mail: Post Offices of Kewaunee County written by the Kannerwurfs and Virginia Feld Johnson, c, 2010.

Carl first came to Door County in the 1930s when “Pop” bought property along Lake Michigan north of the Sturgeon Bay ship canal. Enamored with stamps, post marks and postal history even as a youngster, he was writing a book on Door Co. when he was “beaten to the draw.” Meanwhile, as residents and tourists do, he frequented Stangelville to buy Konop’s sausage and Krohn’s cheese. Luxemburg meant kolaches and other Bohemian goodies at Don’s Bakery and the scrumptious Belgian pies at Stodola’s. Albert Theys’ and Hillside orchards at Luxemburg meant apples, and cherries came from Wienke’s Farm Market. Renard’s cheese curds – in Luxemburg or at Rosewood – were favorites. Carl was one who knew Algoma fishermen are recorded as developing the now popular whitefish boils out of necessity while on the lake one freezing cold 1930s day. To stop for a bite at Port ‘O Call in Kewaunee means sitting over the water, watching the boats come and go from the marinas into the lake. Kewaunee’s lighthouse is a treasure and going north on Highway 42 into Algoma, Crescent Beach with Algoma’s iconic red lighthouse at the end of the pier is a feast for the eyes. Both places are great photo ops though Crescent Beach is one of Lake Michigan’s best kept secrets. Its boardwalk, with its benches, offers a chance to walk the beach, picnic, go for a dip or just relax with something special from von Stiehl Winery.

One could almost say Carl and Pat’s forays into the county – and the resulting postal history – came about because of some of the best ethnic foods in Wisconsin. It was in finding communities that are one building, or maybe only a 45 mph sign, that led to Carl’s most recent award. As a late Professor of Electrical Engineering at Northwestern University, Carl’s scientific research has been widely published and he has been the recipient of numerous professional honors. Had he lived to see his latest honor, he’d be beaming while trying to hide it behind a smug little look, like the cat who swallowed the canary.

In honor of his outstanding contributions to philately in Wisconsin, Dr. Kannerwurf was unanimously approved for selection into Wisconsin Philatelic Hall of Fame, 2015. In his nomination, Bill Robinson said, “Carl exemplified both the quiet and studious historian, but was absolutely unstoppable when it came to talking about his specialty. He was a philatelist having serious interests in other collecting areas but the last third of his life was dedicated to Wisconsin postal history collecting, and his book gives testimony to his efforts.”

Waukesha County Philatelic Society supported honoring Kannerwurf who made major contributions to the history of Kewaunee County. The Society felt that the book is a model for other postal historians and said, “It can only be hoped that others will produce similar books about the postal history of other Wisconsin counties.”

The Kannerwurfs’ noted Kewaunee County historical collection has been donated to the Area Research Center at University of Wisconsin-Green Bay, to Wisconsin Postal History Society and to other appropriate places. Scanned images of much the collection can be found at Algoma Public Library. All sales proceeds from the postal history and its follow-up Yours Truly, from Kewaunee County, a collection of old picture postcards, is directed to the Kannerwurf-Sharpe endowment at Algoma Public Library where monies are designated specifically for updates in Kewaunee County local history and genealogy.

Here Comes the Mail, Post Offices of Kewaunee County and Yours Truly, from Kewaunee County are available at the Lighthouse Gift Shop in Kewaunee, Village Kitchen in Casco, Krohn’s Dairy Store in Luxemburg, Heritage Hill and Bosse’s in Green Bay, Algoma Public Library and Amazon.com.

To learn more about Wisconsin Federation of Stamp Clubs and more, go to www.wfscstamps.org. The site will lead to many others across the country.