While war still rages in Iraq this Christmas, it is interesting to take note of the very first time that the United States experienced a World War Christmas, in December of 1917.
Things were sure different back then, 90 years ago. When the U.S. went to war, it jumped in with both feet first, and men actually rushed to enlist in this supposed War to End All Wars. It was, to them, a grand adventure, a noble exercise in the ultimate form of patriotism.
While the men went off to do their duty to their nation, those who remained behind were also affected, as even today. Of course, during our present time of war, we endure no real shortages of materials or food. We have not been so lucky during our past two world wars.
For instance, there occurred, during the Christmas of 1917, a few shortages of materials, and cutbacks of meat and wheat-made products. The Sears Roebuck Grocery Catalog for December 1917, issued during the nation’s very first wartime Christmas season, explained it this way.
“What to Serve on Meatless and Wheatless Days. In order to conserve our supply of meat and wheat, the Food Administrator of the United States has asked us, as loyal American citizens, to observe a meatless day and a wheatless day every week. This does not mean that on these days we are to be underfed or poorly nourished. It does not mean that any serious denial is necessary. The keynote of our present situation is merely a matter of becoming familiar with good, acceptable substitutes for meat and wheat.”
“Virginia Page,” the domestic science editor who penned these words, suggested as meat substitutes: many kinds of fish, macaroni, beans, dried peas, lentils, cheese and nuts to replace necessary proteins. She then offered eight recipes for dishes ranging from bean loaf to rice bread, and put special emphasis on rye bread.
“Be Patriotic and Eat Rye Bread” was said to be the article in a leading magazine of the time. “If,” she wrote, “we have never learned to eat rye and other untried cereal breads, now is the time to jump in and learn to make and eat them.”
Still, it was Christmas, a time for sweet things, and it’s certain that children wouldn’t want to see Christmas bean loaves tucked in their stockings. The catalog also warned that due to market conditions, sugar was available for ordering, but at reduced amounts, 10 pounds per order.
“We will use our best efforts to obtain sugar in sufficient quantity to fill all orders on this basis, but should we be unable to do so, we must reserve the right to reduce the quantity shipped on each order or omit it altogether.”
But things weren’t as bad as they could’ve been. German citizens, who had been rallying around and enduring the war since 1914, were losing their spirit. It was vanishing daily, as their hunger grew.
During what was called their Turnip Winter of 1916-1917, their scant, mostly potato diet was severely reduced, being almost completely replaced by animal fodder turnips. These were the top two foods available to them. By Christmas 1917, common milk was almost impossible to get. Bread, meat, butter-all were as scarce as world peace. Their Christmas must have been dismal.
Christmas spirit was still high, here in the states, and if any German people could’ve seen the Sears Grocery Catalog, they would’ve drooled with hunger, and even eaten the catalog. Maybe 10,000 of these small, 66-page catalogs, dropped over Germany, might’ve had the people demanding Kaiser Wilhelm surrender a whole lot sooner than he did.
Its pages brimmed with roasted coffee, chocolate, jellies, candies, maple sugar, canned milk, canned oysters, canned peaches, peanut butter, beef, pork, hams, roasted peanuts, canned sausage, flour, Cracker Jack, sugar, canned fruits, corn flakes, tomato soup, cookies, and bratwurst.
In America, land of the free, toys were not in short supply, either. In 1917, new toys were on the market. War toys, mostly, such as windup airplanes that sped across the floor, their propellers spinning. Popguns, and scaled down non-shooting rifles. Gunboats with wheels and flags and sailors on them.
Boys could proudly wear smaller versions of the uniforms worn by soldiers and sailors. Girls had the choice of wearing smaller-sized nurse’s uniforms. Or they could collect soldier dolls, sailor dolls, yes, and even nurse dolls. Drums, horns, building blocks and the more traditional toys were still available, too.
Being located close to the large city of Chicago, residents of Brookfield and Riverside had easy access to the trappings of Christmas, whether they ordered by catalog or not.
For that matter, locally, additional sugar supplies could be obtained. A. Karvanek and Son operated a grocery on the southwest corner of Prairie and Southview avenues, in a building that is still on the site. In an ad in the Dec. 1, 1917 Suburban Magnet newspaper, they said they’d sell you sugar-three or five pounds-but as part of a package of items, such as their $1 special: “Sugar, 5 pounds; Coffee Special, 1 pound; American Family soap, 4 bars; Kitchen Klenzer, 3 packages; Quaker Oats, 1 package.” In this way, they could always get rid of items they were overstocked on.
Anton Rajsky’s Grocery and Meat Market, at 3729-31 Grand Blvd. in Brookfield, offered “Wholesale Prices on all Thanksgiving Poultry. Place your order now.” Yes, better late than never. This ad also appeared in the Dec. 1 Magnet.
Here’s an echo from the past, still applicable today: “It is right now, time, and past time, to mail your Christmas packages,” said Postmaster Koenig of the Brookfield Post Office in the Magnet of Dec. 8, 1917.
“Packages for soldiers, even though they are in this country, should be mailed at once to avoid the Christmas rush and the unpreventable congestion of mail in the post office.”
The postmaster also revealed that $5 War Savings stamps were available for purchase for $4.12, redeemable for full value in five years.
On a celebratory war note, also on Saturday night, Dec. 1, seven Brookfield men in the “National Army” were given furloughs over the weekend and visited their homes here. They were Elmer C. Dreher, Nicholas Thill, Harold Archbold, Edward Brozio, Edward Feely, Raymond Nelson and Brookfield Village Trustee Albert G. Fox’s brother, Cpl. Charles M. Fox.
At the German-American building, which still exists at 9018 Brookfield Ave., they were served a sumptuous fried chicken dinner. To top this off, Mrs. G.A. Speidel, wife of the man who ran the coal, wood and ice business here, baked them a “monster cake,” decorated with an American flag on the top, done in colored icing. The men were amazed and very thankful, and asked that since there were so many other cakes, could they bring this one back to Camp Grant for their fellow soldiers? It was agreed upon at once. On Sunday night, they headed back to camp and thanks were sent back home to all.
As it always does, even now, Christmas seems, at times, to race at you uncomfortably quickly. The Brookfield State Bank, located in the Graham-Schultz building, still on the corner of Prairie and Brookfield avenues, was reminding everyone to sign up for their 1918 Christmas Savings Club accounts. These were started here in 1915, and, according to the Dec. 15, 1917 Magnet, the Club’s 1917 checks, totaling $15,000, had just been mailed to members of this year’s Club.
Also on Dec. 15, the Brookfield Pharmacy, run by Emil E. Pick, was reported to be selling “assorted boxes of the best standard brands, from 50 cents to $5.” No candy shortage here, where Fisher’s Pharmacy would be in 28 years.
Need money for Christmas? Dave Pollock of Brookfield was the man to see. “Always the highest prices [paid] for rubbers, rags, metal, and all kinds of junk. Thirty cents for 100 clean newspapers, 50 cents for 100 clean magazines. You’re still more than well-paid for selling to Pollock.” Maybe that’s how some children made a little money for Christmas shopping.
And speaking of money, during this World War December, the United States was considering issuing a two-and-a-half cent coin. “New Piece Said to Be Wanted to Meet Upward Price Jumps,” said the Magnet headline. This, of course, never happened. Nothing like talk of “upward price jumps” to make people suspicious. Maybe just making such a coin would encourage those jumps. Kind of what everyone says today, when the penny coin is endangered, and how prices would jump up to nickel amounts.
The common amenities were not forgotten, either. On Dec. 14, Anton Rajsky was advertising Bamboo Toilet paper, three 15-cent rolls for 23 cents (how do you make toilet paper out of bamboo?). He had six 12-cent specials (Saturday only): cans of peas, beans, tomatoes, sugar corn and the like. But he also had on sale a two-and-a-half-bushel sack of potatoes at $3.75. What about it, Germans? Better than turnips, eh?
The Ladies’ Aid of the Brookfield Methodist Episcopal Church, at the corner of Lincoln and Grand Boulevard were having their annual Christmas Bazaar at the Brookfield (Strand) Theater on Sunday morning, at 10 a.m., Dec. 15. “All Kinds of Fancy Work on Sale,” said the ad of Dec. 15. Something to buy dear mother for Christmas?
Where could you get your Christmas trees and wreaths? From John M. Telitz of 3744 Grand Blvd. who had a large stock of them on hand. His next week’s sale prices advertised packages of “Snowball Popcorn” (popcorn balls) at 13 cents, and Christmas candies for 25 cents a pound. Sure, you could get your orders delivered, but there was a charge. And speaking of charges, you could charge your order, too, at a cent extra per dollar.
So Christmas 1917 came, pretty much the same as Christmas 1916 had, with good food, gifts, candy, good feelings, church and the joy of little children finding that Santa Claus had again remembered them. Thoughts of Christmas-bright thoughts, happy thoughts, welcome thoughts-were still at hand, as they are, even today, during our present War in Iraq.
Today we suffer no shortages of food or materials. But there is one shortage that we, as well as all nations during all times of war must face. And it is the most awful shortage of them all. A shortage of peace.