CONCORD, N.H. – Many of them don’t know it, but thousands of U.S. soldiers in the Middle East are carrying short messages of love and concern from Donna Hersey.

That’s because her job at Page Belting Co. is to emboss three important words on the back of each of the thousands of leather knife sheaths the company makes.

“Made in U.S.A.”

The war in Iraq has meant long hours for Hersey, as Page Belting ramps up production to meet the military’s growing demand. But she says the long hours and hard work are time well spent.

Hersey said knowing whom the sheaths are destined for gives her work more meaning. “You want to give something good to our guys over there to help them do their jobs,” the 55-year-old resident of Sanford, Maine, said recently.

With the nation at war, Hersey and millions of men and women like her have become modern-day Rosie the Riveters, the iconic woman of World War II who symbolized a nation working hard on the home front to overcome its adversaries.

Page Belting has been producing leather machinery belts, straps, valves and tool pouches since it was founded in 1868. But company president Mark Coen is most proud of Page Belting’s long history of supplying the military.

“We’ve been at it since probably 1893,” he said during a tour of the company’s 40,000-square-foot factory. “Especially during World War I and World War II. We really geared up for doing knife sheaths and rifle slings.”

Page Belting is strong on tradition and preserving the past. Much of the equipment is more than a century old, and workers still stretch and finish the leather using techniques that date to 1885.

On one wall hangs a flag and placard listing the 55 names of the employees who fought during World War II. And above the factory floor hang flags from each of the branches of the U.S. military.

Orders for the military make up roughly 30 percent of Page Belting’s work, a percentage that has grown steadily since the attacks of Sept. 11, 2001.

“That’s good news and bad news. Pre-9-11 business was kind of slow. Then, boom, we get slammed with a lot of orders,” he said, holding up a leather strap made to secure firefighters’ radio microphones to their shoulders.

The war has only made things worse. Coen said the company has been overwhelmed during the past six months, forcing the company to revamp its production procedures to allow it to make 1,000 sheaths a day.

Coen said the Marines recently put in an order for 8,000 sheaths, and 3,000 were needed immediately.

“We were working overtime and Sundays,” he said. “I literally drove it out myself so they would have it on time.”

Coen said his employees are just as motivated.

“They’re not saying, ‘Oh, boy, this is overtime.’ I’ve never heard any of that,” he said. “They’re saying we need to get these out.”

Each sheath is made by hand, carefully stitched together by people like Dianne Marquis, 60, of Barnstead. She said that when soldiers put their lives on the line for her freedom, the least she can do is work overtime to help them.

She laughed when asked if she thinks of herself as Rosie. She said she remembers her parents talking about Norman Rockwell’s muscled young girl who graced the cover of the Saturday Evening Post, and how the extra work was worth it.

Bonnie Bailey, 47, of Boscawen, said she thinks of her work as supporting the troops.

“We put a lot of pride in our work,” she said. “It’s satisfying to know that I got the order done and out so they can be put to use. I just watch [news coverage of the war] and wish them the best.”