Summary

Various Punch, or the London Charivari…

Punch. Could you not start a Muscle Competition for the men who helped the women win the War? Something like the Beauty Competitions for us other warriors? Why not offer prizes to the Tommy with the biggest biceps, the Subaltern with the thickest calf, and the Brigadier with the finest abdominal development?
One is so afraid that at the next European crisis the War Office, having learned its history from picture papers, will simply mobilise the women and forget all about the men. Those absurd machine guns with their wobbly legs really need a man's touch.
Source: Gutenberg

Various Punch, or the London Charivari…

MR. PUNCH, DEAR SIR,—I am still with the Q.M.A.A.C.'s at what used to be called the Front. But do not imagine I am cut off from news. Papers from home pour in by every mail. I read articles written by People Who Know, and speeches of politicians to female electors, and that is how I have learned that it is we Women of England who have won the War.
Yet out here one cannot help noticing that the War was not waged entirely by the lovelier sex.
Source: Gutenberg

Various Punch, or the London Charivari…

Paying them wages all the time that they're out of work. What about me?"
"Well, you weren't on munitions."
"I have been on intellectual munitions," replied Simmons. "And now all my editors write to me, 'Get away from the War.' I have to transfer my machinery to peace work. I have to turn away from the production of the German spy. Think of it. I have almost lived on him for years. I have created hundreds of him during the War. All my laboriously acquired knowledge of German terms—like 'Schweinhund,' you know—goes for nothing. I shall have to make all my villains Bolsheviks.
Source: Gutenberg

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