Sufferagettes

If any one group or clique is losing this war, it's the women, poor dears. Here they are, losing all their most precious possessions, the men, to this horrid, stupid old war. Then when the war is over it looks as though there'll be so many more of their sex left than the other that the United States will have to go over to polygamy. Imagine having to share Cary Grant with another cat! My dear, it's horrendous.

Why do they always have to take the nicest boys in their asinine old draft? It's true they do look simply so chic in uniform. So much so that the women, impressed by what a Sam Browne belt will do for a tubby physique, are flocking into civilian defense organizations so they can wear uniforms themselves. But oh, how wrong they are! The fair sex just don't seem to have been built for khaki. Those severe, blue-grey creations which would harass Mainbocher or Schiaparclli to an early grave have bulges in the wrong places and straight lines just where they most oughtn't to be. Even the new be-bustled bathing suit doesn't render a beautiful lady as unattractive as one of those proto-masculine outfits which leaves her about as cuddly as a two-man tank. All she can do to relieve her repressions is to drive around in the Buick station wagon purchased by her A.R.P. group to prove itself more socially elite than any neighboring corps.

There's another school of thought among the lassies which figures that it's going to be a long war and a gal might as well catch herself a husband and start to produce the army of 1963. But my dear, one simply cannot marry a man making only twenty-one dollars a month. That's not even undic money. It's silly even to dance with them; no future in it. And yet all there is left, unless she knows a handsome ensign, is the 4F Club. Brrr. What a plight for the womanhood of America. Should they starve for food with a soldier or starve for romance with a mentally, morally, and physically unfit specimen of the warlike sex.

Oh. drat Hitler, anyhow.