Post 4 of the US–Korea Shipbuilding Series
“They said women couldn’t do it. Well, they did it better than we imagined.” — Shipyard foreman, 1944
Between 1941 and 1945, more than 3 million women entered U.S. industrial jobs, and shipyards became one of the most striking examples of their impact. They weren’t just placeholders — they were welders, electricians, riggers, crane operators, and inspectors. Their work was skilled, dangerous, and essential. They didn’t just fill gaps. They built ships. They broke barriers and reshaped not only the workforce but the very fabric of American society.
FROM HOUSEWIVES TO HULL BUILDERS: MOBILISING AMERICA’S WOMEN
When the United States plunged into World War II, its shipyards became crucibles of transformation. With millions of men drafted into the armed forces, the question loomed: who would build the ships? For answer, the nation turned to its untapped reserve—millions of women whose hands had stitched, cooked, and cleaned, now called to weld, rivet, and wire. From kitchen sinks to keel blocks, they crossed thresholds never meant for them, answering a call not just to labour, but to legacy.
From coast to coast, they stepped into the yards, picked up torches and tools, and helped forge the fleet that carried the war across oceans.
Between 1941 and 1945, more than 3 million women entered industrial jobs. They are remembered as Rosies—bold, bandana-clad icons of wartime grit. But behind the poster was a mosaic of real women: welders in Richmond, crane operators in Brooklyn, electricians at Mare Island. Many had never held a tool. Others, like Mary in Shirley Graham’s searing 1945 short story “Tar,” were denied the chance to use one. Racism and segregation shadowed the promise of opportunity. Skilled Black women were turned away, their credentials ignored, their ambition rerouted to the least visible tasks. Yet they persisted, pouring tar from vats, wiring hulls, and holding the line in a war that demanded every ounce of resolve.
This is their story—not just of labour, but of transformation. Of women who built the fleet and, in doing so, reshaped America.
WARTIME RECRUITMENT CAMPAIGNS
Recruitment efforts were relentless. Posters, radio broadcasts, and newsreels flooded the public sphere with images of strong, capable women in overalls and welding masks. Slogans like “The Navy Needs Ships — Ships Need You!” rallied women to the cause.
By 1943, women comprised nearly 20–25% of the workforce in major shipyards such as Kaiser’s Richmond yards. In roles like welding and inspection, they often exceeded expectations, setting new benchmarks for precision and reliability.
Rosie the Riveter became the iconic face of this movement, but she was joined by other archetypes—Wendy the Welder, Jenny the Joiner, and more. Private companies joined the push. Kaiser Shipyards published newsletters, such as The Bos’n’s Whistle, which spotlighted real women workers and their stories. Open houses at shipyards helped demystify industrial work and encouraged applications. The message was clear: patriotism wasn’t just about enlistment—it was about production.
TRAINING PROGRAMS: CRASH COURSES IN COMPETENCE
To transform housewives into hull builders, vocational schools and shipyards rolled out intensive training programs. Many shipyards, often in partnership with federal employment programs, provided intensive hands-on apprenticeship courses that could produce certified workers in a matter of weeks. On the job, experienced tradespeople often served as instructors; success depended on rapid upskilling, strict safety enforcement (considering the era), and a culture of discipline.
In just six to twelve weeks, women who had never held a torch were producing seaworthy vessels. Courses covered:
- Welding and blueprint reading
- Electrical wiring and shipboard systems
- Rigging, crane operation, and safety protocols
- Inspection and quality control standards
Absenteeism was low because wages were attractive and because workers—motivated by patriotism, necessity, or both—took pride in tangible contributions to the war effort. Yet the work was dangerous: burns, falls, crushed limbs and exposure to fumes were common. Protective gear was often basic, and long-term occupational health consequences were not well understood at the time.
BARRED FROM THE SLIPWAYS: RACIAL BARRIERS AND THE FIGHT TO BE SEEN
Yet while the wartime call welcomed women into the shipyards, racial barriers remained stubborn. Beneath the patriotic posters and training programs lay a stark truth: access was uneven, and opportunity filtered through the lens of race. For many Black, Indigenous, and Asian American women, the promise of industrial empowerment came with caveats, quotas, and closed doors.
Black women faced discrimination in hiring, pay, and job assignments. Many were relegated to janitorial or support roles—even when they had the skills for technical trades. In oral histories archived by the Oregon Historical Society, women of colour recount being turned away from training programs or assigned to menial roles regardless of qualification. One woman recalled: “They said they didn’t have openings for coloured girls in welding. But I had the certificate. I had the training. I just didn’t have the right skin.”
Beatrice Morrow Cannady had already fought battles for dignity. Though not a shipyard worker herself, her legacy as Oregon’s first Black female attorney and civil rights advocate laid the groundwork for others. In the wartime shipyards, women like Leona May Smith, an African American welder in Portland, faced systemic exclusion—from segregated housing in Vanport to union locals that refused to admit Black members. Yet Smith persisted, earning her welding certification and joining the ranks of shipbuilders despite the odds.
Necessity, however, began to shift the landscape. In yards like Kaiser’s, African American women entered welding and electrical roles. Integrated crews became more common. Unions, though often resistant, began to accept minority women—sometimes reluctantly, sometimes proudly.
This slow integration laid the groundwork for postwar civil rights movements. The shipyard became not just a site of production, but a contested space of social change.
WHAT THEY DID — AND HOW THEY DID IT
Shipbuilding was a mosaic of skilled trades. Women filled roles across the entire production chain. The cultural icon of “Rosie the Riveter” is well known — the bandana-clad woman flexing her bicep under the slogan “We Can Do It!”. But in shipyards, different figures emerged: Wendy the Welder and Rosie, the riveter. They weren’t riveting aircraft fuselages — they were building steel hulls, crawling inside bulkheads, and sealing seams that would cross the Atlantic.
WELDERS, ELECTRICIANS, AND CRANE OPERATORS OF WWII
The shipyards became crucibles of transformation. With millions of men drafted into the armed forces, the question loomed: who would build the ships? The answer came from an unexpected source – women. From coast to coast, they stepped into the yards, picked up torches and tools, and helped forge the fleet that carried the war across oceans.
- Welding: Prefabricated hull sections were joined using arc and gas welding. Women worked in confined spaces, often suspended on scaffolds or inside steel compartments.
- Wiring: Electricians installed navigation systems, radio equipment, and power circuits. Accuracy was critical — a single fault could compromise a ship’s safety.
- Crane Operations: Women operated massive cranes, manoeuvring tons of steel into place with precision.
- Inspection: Quality control teams, often led by women, ensured welds met naval standards. Ultrasonic testing and visual inspection were routine.
FROM ROSIE TO WENDY: THE LANGUAGE OF THE HOME FRONT
ROSIE THE RIVETER
Rosie the Riveter became the symbol of the thousands of women who worked to build bombers, transports, and fighter planes. The rivet that Rosies used was a short cylindrical metal pin or bolt, complete with a mushroom cap on one end. Riveters and buckers worked in teams; the riveter held the air-powered rivet gun that pushed the rivet through a predrilled hole against a metal plate called a bucking bar, held by the bucker. When the rivet slammed into the metal plate, it was flattened and created a seal that held the two metal plates together. Partners developed a rhythm and could complete hundreds of rivets an hour. Rivet guns were heavy and noisy, and their vibration made them difficult to hold. Both the riveter and the bucker had to be physically strong. Frequently, they would change places for a change of pace and to relieve aching and sore muscles. Over the course of the war, Rosies built hundreds of thousands of aeroplanes and tens of thousands of tanks and jeeps alongside millions of small weapons and billions of rounds of ammunition.
WENDY THE WELDER
Rosie’s less well-known cousin, Wendy the Welder, represented the women who welded and assembled steel plates into troop ships, supply ships, submarines, and aircraft carriers. (Their work was possible in part because of Henry Kaiser, known as the father of modern shipbuilding. He developed production techniques that decreased the time it took to build cargo ships. Prior to the war, it took around 45 days to build a cargo ship, known during the war as a Liberty Ship. After assembly line production was put in place, Wendys were able to build a Liberty Ship in a week. Wendys had to wear goggles or helmets with dark UV filtering to protect against “arc eye,” as ultraviolet light causes inflammation of the cornea that can burn through to the retina. Many Wendys suffered first- and second-degree burns, and the fumes and gases contained heavy metals that created long-lasting adverse health issues. During the war, Wendys built thousands of Liberty ships, Victory ships, destroyers, aircraft carriers, submarines, cruisers, landing craft, and battleships. In 2011, a steel structure was dedicated to memorialising the Wendy Welders who worked in the shipyards of the Pacific Northwest.
GOVERNMENT GIRLS: THE QUIET BACKBONE OF WARTIME ADMINISTRATION
Government Girls were cousins to Rosie and Wendy. They represented the women who primarily filled administrative positions in the defence industry and government agencies. Like Rosies and Wendys, Government Girls stepped in to fill jobs that were previously held by men. Most began with basic secretarial work such as typing payroll rosters, requisitions, and supply lists for both the war front and the home front. Limited gains were made by women of colour in white collar jobs in newly formed government agencies to aid in the war effort. For some women, their jobs allowed for advancement to work with the FBI and OSS (Office of Strategic Services, later the CIA). These women would receive vital war information, analyse it, and pass it through appropriate channels. “Human Computers”—those with a strong background in math and analysis—also fell under the heading of Government Girl. Many Government Girls had completed high school and were college-educated. Unlike their counterparts who worked in industry, they did not have as strict restrictions on their clothing and were able to wear dresses. However, wartime rationing meant that Government Girls had to be innovative. When nylon became scarce, some women used products that let them “paint” stockings on their legs.
WHAT THEY DID AND HOW
Shipbuilding was a mosaic of skilled trades. Women filled roles across the entire production chain:
- Welding: Prefabricated hull sections were joined using arc and gas welding. Women worked in confined spaces, often suspended on scaffolds or inside steel compartments.
- Wiring: Electricians installed navigation systems, radio equipment, and power circuits. Accuracy was critical — a single fault could compromise a ship’s safety.
- Crane Operations: Women operated massive cranes, manoeuvring tons of steel into place with precision.
- Inspection: Quality control teams, often led by women, ensured welds met naval standards. Ultrasonic testing and visual inspection were routine.
The work was gruelling. Temperatures soared inside hulls. Sparks flew. Fumes lingered. Accidents happened. Yet absenteeism remained low. Many women saw their labour not just as a patriotic duty, but as proof of their capability — a quiet revolution in industrial identity.
PORTRAITS OF PIONEERS
Elinor Otto (1919–2014): One of the original “Rosies,” Otto worked as a riveter during World War II and continued in aerospace manufacturing for decades. She became a symbol of endurance and pride in skilled labour.
Gladys Bell: A welder at Kaiser’s Richmond yards, Bell was featured in training films distributed nationwide. Her technique and speed became benchmarks for new recruits.
Lillian H. Roberts: An African American electrician at Bethlehem Steel’s Baltimore yard, Roberts trained dozens of women in complex wiring techniques and advocated for racial integration in skilled trades.
These women weren’t anomalies — they were part of a movement. Their stories reflect the diversity, grit, and technical mastery that defined wartime shipbuilding.
VOICES FROM THE WAR DESK
One Government Girl, reflecting on her wartime role, recalled: “We weren’t just typing memos—we were moving information that moved armies. Every requisition, every decoded message, every payroll list was part of the war effort.” —Anonymous clerk, War Department, 1944
These women operated in the shadows of strategy, often without recognition. Yet their precision and discretion were vital to the machinery of war.
“Good Work, Sister” Poster (1945) This National Archives poster honours the contributions of women in government and industry, symbolising their competence and patriotism.
KAISER’S INDUSTRIAL DEMOCRACY
Henry J. Kaiser’s shipyards weren’t just fast — they were socially innovative. To support his workforce, Kaiser introduced:
- Childcare: On-site nursery schools allowed mothers to work full-time.
- Healthcare: Clinics provided routine care and treated injuries — the precursor to Kaiser Permanente.
- Housing: Dormitories and family units housed thousands of workers near the yards.
- Training: Schools taught welding, wiring, and blueprint reading in accelerated formats.
This model wasn’t charity – it was strategy. Kaiser believed that a supported workforce was a productive workforce. His yards built over 1,400 ships, and his welfare programs became a blueprint for postwar labour reform.
LEGACY: MORE THAN A MOMENT
When the war ended, most women were laid off to make room for returning servicemen. The reversion to prewar gender norms was swift and politically reinforced. Yet the impact of their work endured.
- Technical Legacy: Many women transitioned into aerospace, electronics, and education.
- Cultural Legacy: The image of the capable female worker became embedded in American identity.
- Labour Legacy: Their experience laid the foundation for future labour movements, union reforms, and feminist advocacy.
As one shipyard supervisor said in 1944: “They said women couldn’t do it. Well, they’ve done it — and done it better than we imagined.”
STRATEGIC RELEVANCE TODAY
Why does this story matter now?
Because shipbuilding is once again a strategic priority. As the U.S. and Korea invest billions into maritime infrastructure, and as India positions itself as a manufacturing alternative, the lessons of WWII labour mobilisation are more than historical footnotes — they’re operational blueprints.
- Inclusive labour pipelines
- Accelerated training programs
- Workforce support systems
- Standardised platforms for rapid scale-up
These aren’t just policy ideas. They’re proven models — pioneered by women who built the fleet.
CLOSING THOUGHT
The women who built the fleet didn’t just weld steel — they rewired the nation’s understanding of labour, gender, and industrial possibility. Their story is a reminder that strength lies not in exclusion, but in empowerment. And as the world reimagines shipbuilding for the 21st century, their legacy offers both inspiration and instruction.
What made America’s wartime shipbuilding revolution possible wasn’t just patriotism—it was infrastructure, coordination, and political will. The U.S. government mobilised a vast industrial base, streamlined procurement through agencies like the War Production Board, and empowered private shipyards with clear mandates and generous contracts. Training programs were fast, inclusive, and pragmatic. Labour unions, despite resistance, adapted. And perhaps most critically, the public understood that production was as vital as combat.
Could the U.S. do it again if war broke out tomorrow—say, against China or Russia? The answer depends not just on technology, but on mindset. Today’s shipbuilding sector is fragmented, under-resourced, and often outsourced. The skilled labour pipeline is thin. Strategic stockpiles are limited. And the social contract that once rallied millions around a common cause has frayed.
To rebuild at scale would require more than money—it would demand a cultural shift. One that revalues industrial labour, retools education, and reimagines gender and racial inclusion not as wartime exceptions, but as peacetime norms. The women of WWII proved that transformation is possible. The question now is whether America still believes in its own capacity to transform.
