Two Women At War

When I was researching the book Elsie and Mairi Go To War: Two Extraordinary Women on the Western Front, I was thrilled and moved by the full-on-ballsy-grab-life-by-the-throat-attitude of Elsie Knocker and Mairi Gooden-Chisholm. Going off to Helmand Province in Afghanistan to open a first-aid post with a friend is the closest we can get to understanding a bit of what Elsie and Mairi did in on the Western Front from 1914 to 1918. Wanting to be free from any interference and red tape, and determined to run things their way, they worked unpaid, spent their savings, sold their beloved motorbikes in order to fund the work. They did it out of the goodness of their hearts, and this inspired me to write the book.

Adapting a book is always a challenge but fortunately I unearthed a great deal of splendid material which seemed suitable to be used in a play as well. Years before I started the research on the book, I had seen Mairi in a television documentary. It was wonderful to see her and hear her talk about her time in Belgium fifty years before. Remembering this programme years later encouraged me to find out more about her story and that of the wonderfully named Mrs Knocker gradually emerged.

There are so many extraordinary stories about this dauntless duo: the terrifying danger they lived in running their first-aid post just yards from the German trenches; the scary moments when they retrieved the wounded under sniper fire; shell attacks and bombardments for weeks at a time, and harrowing stories of holding the hands of young soldiers as they died.

But they had lots of fun too – they were the only women on the front line – and quickly became famous for their parties. When they could, they partied hard. In their spare time they made jam, took hot chocolate up to the Belgian trenches (and even gave some to a German sentry) and in the summer played on the giant see-saw in their garden when the line was quiet. They even had a punt which they took into the deep shell craters that filled with water and had picnics with their favourite soldier friends pretending they were at the Henley Regatta. It's this selflessness, playfulness and joie de vivre amongst all that death that I had to write about in this one-act play.

Bringing Elsie and Mairi Go To War to the Fringe feels like I'm bringing Mairi home. She was a Scot, and when the First World War ended she returned to Scotland where she lived for over sixty years. Also, whenever Mairi and Elsie came to Scotland on fund-raising tours they received a fabulously warm welcome and were given a great deal of money from hugely appreciative audiences. These women were famous in their day and were mobbed wherever they went. I think Fringe audiences like this kind of story and these kind of women.