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December, 1917

Carmen Swanson, a former journalism student of the University, writes from the Puget Sound navy yard:—

“Technically we haven ’t reached the front yet at the navy yard, Puget Sound, Washington, but for active service the trenches ‘haven’t got any thing on us.’

“We have a little war all our own here—a war on the endurance of women. Meek, tired ‘sailorettes’ bow to the command ‘work ten hours a day’ and, ‘work Sunday——all day.’ Sometimes these little ‘sailorettes’ pounding a typewriter all day, wonder dumbly why civil service girls doing the same or lighter work, receive higher base pay than they, and why these girls also receive compensation for overtime and Sunday work, but they cheer the ﬂag at every picture show and cry ‘My Country, ’Tis of Thee.’ Our country has to save its Liberty bonds some way, and let ours be the silent and forgotten glory.

“In our office we feel ourselves peculiarly honored, for not every enlisted girl enjoys the same opportunity for patriotism, even at Puget Sound. Many of the offices ask only seven paltry hours a day—and only every third Sunday. And of course these girls receive the same pay as we. Somehow we can’t but pity them as being denied their due share of glory, and while sensible of our advantage, believe that in all fairness these girls should be permitted the same opportunity with us.

“Several boys have enlisted for yeoman duty also, and they enjoy the same conditions of work afore-mentioned. Enlisted men, seaman branch, say they ﬁnd life dull, with little to do. They have two afternoons for liberty leave each week. A small liberty, moving pictures, and an occasional dance and entertainment vary the monotony. The Y. M. C. A. supervises the dancing and entertainments. To these dances are bidden yard employees of the fair sex, those possessing histrionic talent being given an opportunity to demonstrate before the ‘free for all’ dancing begins.

“And these dances give even the wall ﬂowers a chance to come before the public, for the sailors display rare gallantry in rescuing one from oblivion. The sailors I have met are ﬁne, clean fellows, a type which I think prevails, despite statements to the contrary. Most of them are eager for sea duty—to thrash the Kaiser, they say.

“And we ‘sailorettes’—well, we’ll just stay on the job at the rear of the front—that all may be well with our boys who go to ﬁght for Uncle Sam and Liberty.”