Solidarity during the years of war

Under dire circumstances, company employees and their bosses tried hard to get through the tough period of war. People still worked until noon on Saturdays at the time and a normal work day consisted of twelve hours. A week long power cut would cause a complete shut-down of the works for all of seven days. Sirens would cry at each air-raid alarm and if the porter blew his horn, it meant you had to take cover. Workers would seek shelter in the designated shelter areas opposite the Polenlaan, on the banks of the Kattenkerkhof, until the all clear sign was again heard. Fuel was scarce – a few stoves placed throughout the company offered the workers some warmth and fresh soup was provided every day to alleviate the hunger. Bones for the soup were collected at the meat preservation factory Calvet that was forced to supply meat to the oppressor. Via special rationing stamps, the Germans allowed the provision of additional meals to workers who performed heavy physical labour. Consequently, in due time almost everyone working at Picanol fell into this category! On the leftovers of the daily soup, employees even secretly reared a pig behind the main building - a few feet from the room where Jaimé Picanol held one his very few meetings with German officers...

(photo from 1944: most of the staff of that time on the roof of the Oude Werkhuizen, behind the Kattenkerkhof (ie cat cemetery) with nothing but … potatoes, since it was war time)

About 'mitrailleuses' and 'sabres'

During the war, part of the equipment was confiscated and used by the Germans for the production of military goods. Since loom production had already been reduced, we were also asked to cast and process artillery projectiles – a request that was ignored. Jaimé Picañol made it his aim to minimise any work carried out for the oppressor, a goal that he would largely accomplish. Production remained limited to a few cast iron products for Vlamertinge airport, and a number of axles for engines. Another anecdote: Picanol workers had nicknamed the Omnium ‘Mitrailleuse’ - French for machine gun - because of its high speed. The machine’s flying shuttle was driven by a parallel beater via a ‘sabre’. These slang-like words caused some difficulty when after the liberation, the company was accused of economic collaboration. The then members of management were arrested for the alleged manufacture of machine guns and sabres and briefly locked up.

The years of war: looms in exchange for fish and oranges

The Omnium weaving machine has a weaving width of 188 cm and is able to achieve a speed of 140 picks per minute. Average annual production numbers of the automatic loom hit 120 in the first years of manufacture and grew to one per day just before WWII, a clear sign that the machine was well received by the textile industry. But WWII spoiled the fun. The manufacturing industry saw a heavy downfall. As the oppressor demanded most of the available resources for the production of war equipment, raw materials became a scarcity. The number of manufactured machines decreased dramatically. Machines were also shipped to neutral countries, such as Spain, Portugal and Sweden, and transported to other continents from there. For marketing and selling purposes, compensation in foodstuffs became the basis for weaving loom exports. Armed with an Omnium brochure and prints of plans, salesmen undertook pilgrimages to weaving companies that had never before heard of a Picañol loom. In Denmark, the machines were sold in exchange for fish products; companies in Spain and Portugal paid with sardines and oranges, and Hungary purchased looms in return for tomato concentrates and onions. Despite the bombings of train convoys the machines arrived at their destination and the food products found their way to our country. After the war, these looms were to become our first foreign references and would contribute to the establishment of the Picañol name outside the Belgian borders.

The first model for mass production

Practically handed carte blanche by the Steverlynck family, Jaimé was given a lab in Ieper where, together with a small number of staff, he continued to work on his technological concepts. Karel put everything at stake and entrusted the further development of the company to Jaimé, pushing Juan off the playing board. The start was cumbersome. The entire staff – about 50 people – of the newly established company worked day and night on automation of the existing power looms. By the end of 1936 and after an endless string of mechanical problems, the company was finally ready to launch the ‘Omnium’, the first Picañol machine that would stand the test of mass production. The Omnium was a flying shuttle machine in which a new spool core was inserted into the flying shuttle without stopping. The machine had a weaving width of 188 cm and was mainly intended for weaving heavier types of fabric.

Jaimé’s prosthetic leg

Jaimé Picañol was no stranger to the Steverlynck clan. Before 1936 he already maintained a good relationship with the Vichte-based Steverlynck company that was his supplier of accessories. At the outbreak of the Spanish Civil War, Jaimé joined the Republican air force in the battle against Franco. He suffered a severe injury when his plane was shot down during a mission above nationalist territory. Seeking medical aid he turned to his friend Karel Steverlynck, who took care of his transport to Flanders. Jaimé’s brother Juan had meanwhile set up a small weaving machine factory in Ieper, in the old workshop of the Vansteenkiste company. From Ieper Jaimé could easily get to London, where eventually he underwent a leg amputation. In his memoires, Karel Steverlynck recalls the period as follows: 'In the 1930s, Juan Picañol’s brother arrived - a Spanish war amputee on the way to England to purchase a prosthetic leg. He was in Ieper for a few weeks and I was thus able to establish that he was a highly skilled mechanic. I asked his opinion about his brother's competences and the future of the firm. He answered that his brother was incompetent and continuing to work with him would surely lead us to ruin. In order to save his family’s honour, he promised to build a modern weaving machine, asking nothing in return but the payment of his hotel costs and some drinking money.’ Legend has it that Jaimé received payment in kind on top of his salary and compensation for his hotel bill: he was regularly presented with Karel Steverlynck’s favourite cigars as a gift. Jaimé had the reputation of a hard worker, but he was also said to be authoritarian and surly. He died in Spain on 13 August 1988.

The difference between the two brothers

The story doesn’t end here. On incorporation of 'Automatic Weaving Machines Picañol’, Juan was required to make considerable changes to his modernised loom. The first machines were sold and delivered to weaving company ‘La Louisiana’ in Ghent (of Karel’s friend Voortman). However, the results proved to be disappointing. One technological problem followed the other and the company had a hard time surviving. In search of additional assistance, Karel Steverlynck asked Jaimé Picañol to take charge of the development department in order to save it from total destruction. The decision led to a fierce fight between Jaimé and his two brothers. The third Picañol sibling never became part of the Ieper company story.