The port cranes creaked without pause, sirens wailed over the city every night, and women — mothers, daughters, sisters — disappeared from the streets not out of fear, but because they were heading to their shift. During the Second World War, Liverpool became one of the main “gateways” for Allied logistics, and the women of this city took on more than anyone could have imagined. They were not typically soldiers in the trenches, but without them, the course of the war could have been different. The website liverpoolyes.com knows more about the fates of Liverpool women during wartime and will introduce you to the most interesting facts about it.
Women at Work: From Factories to Ports
The beginning of the Second World War forced the British economy to re-engineer itself at an extraordinary pace — and it was women who filled the numerous gaps in the workforce. In Liverpool, a major industrial and port city, this was felt especially keenly. Thousands of local women found themselves working in factories, at the docks, and in technical services. While their contribution is often presented as heroic, in reality, for many, it was not so much a “mission” as a forced adaptation to a state of survival.
One of the largest hubs of female labour was the ROF Kirkby munitions factory, located near Liverpool. At its peak, around 23,000 people worked here, the vast majority being women. They packed gunpowder, loaded shells, and checked ammunition for defects. The work was dangerous: safety regulations were often ignored, chemicals irritated their skin, and air raid sirens could sound at any moment.

No less important was the presence of women in the Women’s Royal Naval Service (WRENS) — especially in the context of the Western Approaches Headquarters located in the centre of Liverpool. This site coordinated military operations in the Atlantic, and many women worked there as radar operators, decoders, and cartographers. Their day could begin with analysing the movements of enemy submarines and end with a night shift in the underground command centre.
Another key group was the members of the Timber Corps, sometimes jokingly called “lumberjacks in skirts.” They prepared timber for construction and packaging of military equipment. The work was often performed in isolation, in rural areas with almost no infrastructure. Yet, this very raw material later became boxes for shells, bridges for machinery, or patches for destroyed roads.
There were also less obvious forms of work. In city services, women were engaged in rat catching, which posed a serious sanitary threat during the war. At the docks, where ships from Canada and the USA arrived, women worked as stevedores, registrars, and communication technicians. They were part of the extensive logistical infrastructure, mainly related to supply.
Daily Courage Under Fire
During the war, Liverpool became one of the main targets for the German air force. As Britain’s second most important port, the city endured over 80 major air raids. The most intense period—May 1941, known as the Blitz Week—claimed the lives of over two thousand residents. And it was amidst the ruined streets, the glow in the sky, and the sirens that the city’s women performed exhausting roles.
The tasks of these women were neither front-line nor domestic. They served as ambulance drivers, took part in rescue teams, helped evacuate children, and coordinated the distribution of food and medicine. They weren’t always trained specialists—often, they were local residents who underwent basic instruction and got to work.

Life in the city under bombardment wasn’t limited to rescuing the wounded. Many women were involved in volunteer structures, such as local Red Cross chapters or charitable kitchens. Some worked in shelters for evacuees, others at warm clothing distribution points, and others registered displaced families.
The role of mothers was particularly vulnerable. Amidst evacuations, food shortages, and constant danger, it was women who upheld the emotional and domestic survival of their children. Many mothers stayed in the city, even if they had the option to evacuate—due to the fear of being separated from their husbands or relatives, or the need to care for the elderly.
Interestingly, most women did not consider their behaviour heroic.
“We did what we had to do,”
is a phrase heard in many interviews recorded decades later. And this modesty is no less striking than their brave actions.
Women in Wartime: Personal Stories
In major wars, it’s easy to lose individual voices. Statistics replace faces, and general statements replace life details. But it is personal stories that allow us to better understand what life was truly like for people during the war. For Liverpool’s women, it was a mix of the mundane, unexpected decisions, and temporary roles that left a lifelong mark. Here are some stories documented in diaries, archives, and memoirs.
Edith Poland: The Dovecot Girl

In 1945, Edith Poland, a 19-year-old resident of the Dovecot district in Liverpool, kept a diary. Her days were spent working at an insurance company, and her evenings were dedicated to a volunteer mission for the American Red Cross. Along with other girls, she handed out coffee and doughnuts to American sailors who arrived at the Liverpool docks. She was called a “doughnut girl”—a term used in the US for female volunteers who supported service members with everyday comforts.
Edith’s diary is not a chronicle of great events but rather a mosaic of impressions: evening conversations with friends, mentions of the Liverpool Echo newspaper, and reflections on various military operations. These lines convey not heroic pathos but simple observations. She writes about anxiety, fatigue, and how you get used to things that would seem wild in peacetime. Here is an entry that perfectly captures the atmosphere of tense anticipation:
It was so quiet it was scary.
Bessie Braddock: The Driver with Character
Bessie Braddock’s name is known to Britons primarily from politics: she was a Member of Parliament for Liverpool who fiercely fought for social rights and healthcare. But during the Second World War, her place of work became the cab of an ambulance. During the Blitz Week, Bessie personally drove the vehicle, responding to calls in the most heavily bombed areas of the city.
According to her memoirs, she went through more than sixty nightly raids. Sometimes she worked without sleep for two days straight. Her figure was not convenient for propaganda, or even for her colleagues: a tough, straightforward truth-teller. But the city’s residents remember her as a woman who performed one of the most dangerous civilian functions in a city that was literally burning.
Unsung, but not Forgotten

Not all stories have names. In the archives of Liverpool museums and in oral interviews collected later, dozens of women appear whose participation in the city’s wartime life was notable but not fully documented. One of them was a girl who worked at the port as a cargo registrar. In a 1970s interview, she recounted how, during breaks between bombings, she counted boxes of provisions while standing on cold concrete in rubber boots.
Another was a boiler room worker who hid in a bomb shelter at night and cleaned furnaces during the day, which provided heat for military warehouses. Yet another was a mother of three who organised food for a school evacuation when supplies had to be distributed under conditions of severe scarcity.
Post-War Silence: Women Sent Back “To the Kitchens”
A collection of oral testimonies titled “They Didn’t Want to See Us in This Job Again!” ironically sums up the attitude towards women after the war’s end. Many of them later heard things like:
“Your time is up, get back to the kitchens”.
Indeed, society did not envision a continuation of a military career for women. But perhaps that’s for the best?
Today, we can re-evaluate this experience not as heroic, but as human. Exhibitions like the Wrens Museum or art projects at the Museum of Liverpool are attempts to look at women in wartime through the eyes of history, not propaganda. And this is entirely in the spirit of modern Liverpool, which listens to voices that were not heard before. Another example of this is the songs created by Jamie Webster.