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Junction Publishing (United Kingdom)

I Know What You’re Doing: One - She Loves to Watch Me Play

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Publisher’s Note: This book is based on real-life events, but names

and places have been changed to protect the identities of those not
wishing to be revealed. Locales and public names are sometimes
used for atmospheric purposes. Any other resemblance to actual
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Ordering Information:

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SLTWMP/Zane & Jenna Michaelson – 2nd/Revised Edition.

Contents
This title was previously released in September 2017 and has been
revised and expanded.

You will read OUR version of events and what WE experienced that
led us to where WE are now.
We dedicate this book to marriage… it works for us… sometimes!

Zane & Jenna

Re-visiting what was written almost five years ago was never in our
plans, especially since we were insistent the books were pulled from
sale in late 2020.

For various reasons, we regretted putting our lives in the spotlight,

and locked them away, never to be seen again.

But you can never account for public taste, and to our surprise, our
publisher fielded request after request for copies of the titles,
individual or otherwise.

“Can we re-release them?”

Our publisher broached the subject with caution.

“ABSOLUTELY NO WAY, EVER,” we snapped back, resolute our pasts

should remain there.

“Can you think about it, at least?” he asked. “They’re exactly the
type of books people want to read nowadays.”
“Yeah, I bet, there’s nothing like revelling in the misfortune of
others,” I replied in a contemptuous tone.

He isn’t one to give in easily. “Like I said, think about it, and if the
answer is a definite no, then fine, I’ll accept it.”

So, Jenna and I sat down and talked about the pros and cons and
despite the latter winning by a large majority, eventually we came
up with a compromise.

I called our publisher. “We will only support a re-release with new
artwork and in revised editions.”

“Um, I don’t know about that,” he dithered.

“Forget it then, and we want a limited release,” I said.

“That isn’t going to work.”

“It’s our way, or no deal.”

We left the ball in his court.

But it didn’t take him long to come back to us. “Yes, okay,” he
quickly and sensibly agreed, knowing without us getting our way,
those titles would remain locked in the vaults, only to be seen by
those who had originally purchased them.

“You’re doing the right thing.”

“Ugh…” I replied, not keen on his tone, or the fact he was blissfully
happy at what he thought was

him winning the battle. “… don’t be too smug, we haven’t signed

anything yet,” I warned.

“Whatever you say.”

So, the game was on again, and while he might have won the battle,
the war was won, on our terms.

The truth is, we are still wary about putting this past part of our lives
back into the public’s domain, but this time we (kind of) know what
to expect.

Last time the crazies and the self-proclaimed morally superior came
for us, and one lady (the term

used loosely) even befriended us with grace, kindness, and

understanding, only to turn the tables and serve us volleys of abuse
and condemnation via email.

Still, the shock from such vitriol taught us who to trust. Now, with
nearly five years behind us, we keep a careful distance, sticking to
the chosen few.

Anyway, back to the books… for those who read them the first time
around, if you dive into these new editions, you will notice things
missing that no longer feel appropriate to share, but there are other
things removed before their release we now wish for you to see.

Why?

Quite simply, the world has changed, and so have we.

Plus, we are much improved writers and can tell our story in a more
proficient manner.

Enjoy our words and try not to judge too harshly; this is our life, not
yours. No matter how far up in the air your noses may be, perfection
is unattainable.

With Love.

Zane & Jenna Michaelson.

XX

ZANE

Happily married to Jenna for many years, I still loved her with all my
heart. But I’d had nagging

doubts for a while, and the more I tried to ignore what was going
on, and thoughts I’d buried deep

down, the more incessant that nagging became.

To me, Jenna was, and still is the most beautiful woman in the
world, and I would never, ever,

ever consider leaving her to be with anybody else.

Still, as you read this and the subsequent releases, I know you will
question my words.

My wife and children are my absolute joy. But for some

unfathomable reason they weren’t enough.

Call me greedy, but a piece remained out of place in what appeared

to be the perfect life.

Confusion reigned supreme as my wife and family that I loved dearly

slipped out of my fingers,

leaving me questioning, if this dream and fairy-tale existence truly

existed, why couldn’t it satisfy me?

I needed answers to this mysterious longing deep inside of me.

A kind, caring, stylish, challenging, and intellectually superior wife,

beautiful children, an amazing career I’d worked my backside off for,
and a gorgeous house surrounded by acres of land. To many,

looking from the outside in, I had it all.

Money worries were non-existent. Before the kids came along, we

travelled the world; sight-

seeing and enjoying one another as much as what surrounded us.

I led a charmed existence in most respects but still wanted more. If

only I could figure out what

piece of the puzzle went missing.

Eventually, depression crept into my life like a dark shadow and no
amount of self-analysis or

trying to bolster myself did anything to halt the negative thoughts

that had invaded my mind.

It couldn’t be a mid-life crisis. In my twenties, I wasn’t anywhere

near middle aged, but it was

most definitely there.

I’d lost all interest in anything and everything, stopped going to the
gym, cycling with friends,

Zumba classes with my wife, and even found excuses not to

participate in family days with mine, and especially hers because
there was absolutely no love loss on either side.

It wasn’t long before Jenna noticed the change in my personality.

“You’re not yourself. What’s wrong?”

“I’m fine.” I lied.

“I know you better than I know myself and something’s not right.”

I couldn’t give her an answer. Not because I didn’t want to, but
because I had no idea myself.

Her words, the occasional side-eyed glances, plus the probing

questions plagued my mind. The

more I tried figuring them, and myself, out, the more the answers I
craved eluded me.

Not in the least bit religious, I sought solace in the most unlikely of
places—church. Once there, I sat silently praying to something I
didn’t believe in, anxious for clarity. To say I felt a total fraud was an
understatement because I hadn’t stepped foot inside a church for
many years, but rather than

wallow, I imagined it would help—it didn’t. In fact, I felt worse

because suddenly I realised, I had nothing to believe in.

Help me! I internally cried out, though I couldn’t find the strength to
voice it to the one person who could have steered me back toward
the right path—Jenna.

Sat in a faceless house of God, there wasn’t some revelation like in

the movies; no voice from

above, or no cosey one-on-one chats with the vicar as she shared a

cup of tea and a stale biscuit—just a cold, uninviting space for those
silly enough to believe problems can be solved from a book written
thousands of years before.

Now, you’ll probably guess this isn’t a tale of new-found religion or a

discovery of spirituality,

but one day, with what seemed like divine intervention, the reason
for my downward spiral suddenly

came to me and purely by chance, as I was browsing through my

friends list on a popular social

media site, there it was.

It was during another anti-social period, and admittedly, I was in one

of those moods, the one where I had every intention of culling my
friends list down to the few I actually knew personally and had at
one time or another in the last year, interacted with or socialised
personally.

Suggested friends popped up on the screen, and I did a double take

as a face from the past robbed
me of breath. It can’t be, I said to myself.

Was I seeing things?

I looked closely at the small box on the screen and felt like I’d been
slammed head-first into the

wall.

The shock was instantaneous—after all these years that face stared
right through my soul. But with

that shock came nausea, alongside the confrontation of a past I’d

actually shed, like an unwanted skin.

I closed my eyes as images bombarded me one after another, BANG,

BANG, BANG, slamming into

me like a runaway train. And just like minutes rather than years had
passed, there he was, looking not one day older than he had the last
time I’d allowed my eyes to wander over his body.

The Chad Mitchell.

Whispering his name over and over, my heart fluttered and for a
moment; time seemed to stand

still.

“Go on,” I told myself. “Click it.”

“Don’t!” the voice of reason inside my head warned. “You’re opening

Pandora’s Box…”

But me being me, I threw caution to the wind and clicked on his
profile picture anyway. Then, as
his world opened up to me, or as much as the privacy settings
allowed, the past flooded back in its entirety. Finally, for the first
time in months, clarity was mine.

Immediately, I felt a stirring down below as the blood rushed to my

cock. Instantly, guilt gnawed

away at me because the woman I’d married and vowed to love and
protect was downstairs feeding

our children. Still, I couldn’t deny that I felt something, which was
better than the nothingness of the last few months.

Log out and forget about him.

But I couldn’t ignore what was happening in my head, or inside my

underwear either.

Jenna and I hadn’t been intimate for a while. It wasn’t because she
didn’t want sex. More the fact

I’d been struggling to get a hard on. But seeing Chad’s chiselled
features again, I felt my cock

pulsating.

And that was the start of the madness.

I began wondering what intimacy with a man could be like again,

after all these years.
I said again because in my last year at Oxford University, I shared
with one of the most popular guys on campus–Chad.

From an obscenely wealthy American family, it had been his dream

to study in Britain.

We only ended up as roommates because my previous one dropped

out after marijuana induced

psychosis smoked him of his once bright future.

I wasn’t overly thrilled with the new arrangement because I wasn’t

particularly fond of the guy. In fact, as far as people went, I viewed
him as an irritant—a motor-mouthed American whose main goal

in life was for people to swoon over him and bolster an already
gargantuan ego.

Having him around disturbed the peace and quiet I’d been craving,
and finally not having to listen

to another person snoring like a pig and farting like an incontinent

horse across from me night after night was a bonus. Alas, it wasn’t
meant to be because Hurricane Chad blew into my world and

caused untold damage.

To my surprise, me and the usurper quickly became good friends

and spent a lot of down time

together. Sadly, not long after I left Oxford, we lost touch, and while
I had mixed emotions about it, life got in the way, as it often does.

Looking back, it was probably for the best, and the less complicated
of options, but what I

wouldn’t have given for just five minutes with him right then.
I couldn’t take my eyes off his picture and felt mesmerised all over
again.

My mind drifted back to the day when everything changed between

us.

When he walked into the room my nose was buried in a book, well
my Kindle.

Instantly, I picked up on his scent—some expensive aftershave

mixed with the unmistakable

pong of sweat.

“Hey, Buddy,” he said, in his sexy Californian drawl. His bag was
dropped onto the middle of

the floor. Then, waiting for me to object to more mess, he grinned at

me.

“Hello,” I replied, trying not to take much notice of him. Or at least,

pretending I wasn’t.

“You been holed up in here all mornin’?” I noted the twang to his
voice and how he always cut

off the last letter on certain words.

“Off and on,” I replied.

“You need to get outside and enjoy the sunshine while you can—”

“I’m trying to finish this book.”

“What are you readin’ now?”

I wanted to lie and say it was something intellectual. “Harry Potter

and the Chamber of
Secrets,” I replied, trying to keep a straight face.

“Hard stuff,” he teased, shooting another grin my way, revealing his

perfect white teeth.

“Yeah!”

“Fancy gettin’ a beer when you’re done?”

“If you want.” I didn’t want to appear too eager.

“I’ll get outta these clothes and have a shower. That gym was so
warm. You Brits need to invest in AC.”

“I’m sure it has air conditioning already.”

“Tell that to my sweaty nuts.”

“I’d rather not.”

“I shoulda showered there but I forgot to put clean clothes in my

rucksack…”

I looked up from the machinations of Tom Riddle and his Basilisk to

see what he was wearing—

a mesh style vest, soaked with sweat.

“You do stink a bit.”

“Tell me about it.”

I couldn’t help but notice how the material clung seductively to his
pecs. He must have really

pushed himself that morning as the shape of his veiny, bulging

biceps were visible, and his skin glistened with sweat.
“Hurry up and get a shower, but before then, pick your stuff up.” I
hated living in a messy

room, but he was happy to drop stuff where he stood then step over
it.

“Yes, Mom.” He bent down to pick up his ruck sack and his blond
hair flopped into his face.

“Damn, I need a hair band.” He pushed it back with his fingers.

Even with the simplest of moves, I was entranced.

And he knew it because every movement he made was pure porn

and though I wasn’t sure if he

realised how alluring he was, everything he did was deliberate.

Expertly and without mercy, he

used his physicality as a weapon. I’d seen it so many times; the tilt
of his head, the stare of wanting eyes, the flexing of a bicep—all
tried and tested methods designed to intrigue and hook the object of
his attraction.

Whatever it was about him, I craved it, but ultimately, desired the
knowledge of what made him

tick.

Reeled in, I fought it. No matter how I coveted what he had to offer,
even though I was straight and had had more than my own share of
fun both on and off campus, overstepping the mark

wouldn’t be an issue because fear of what was and what could be,
held me in a tight grip.

The hunger within me was a unique experience because I’d been

propositioned by men many
times over the years and politely declined, but Chad was the only
man to ever pique my curiosity or push me to believe in a latent
bisexual side to my nature.

Whatever Chad and I could be only existed in my fantasies. But right

then, I wanted to pin him

down on the floor, rip his vest off and lick the sweat from his erect
nipples.

Well, that was until I gave the game completely away with a longing
stare he couldn’t fail to

miss.

“See anythin’ you like, Zane?” he asked with a sly wink.

I didn’t dare respond.

Realising he wasn’t going to get an answer, he turned away, pulled

off the vest and stood posing and flexing in the mirror. I watched,
pushing down my excitement as his pecs danced up and down.

Once more, my actions brought my wants to his attention as our

eyes met in the mirror.

Quickly, I broke eye contact, embarrassed, worried he’d laugh, call

me a faggot, and tarnish my name around campus.

After a few seconds he stepped back, but I allowed my gaze to

linger that little bit longer.

He must have spied me in the corner of the mirror. I was doing

everything I could to control my urges whilst trying to stop my cock
from exploding.

I discreetly covered the huge lump in my shorts with a pillow from

behind me.
“Whaddya think of these babies?” He flexed his biceps. “Looking
good, huh?”

Not as confident back then as I am now, I remember stammering

my answer, but he could see

how flummoxed I was.

Then, he pressed me for another answer. “Well…?”

“You’ve got a great body, mate,” I offered, hoping he would let the
matter drop. “I wish my

body was half as good.”

“You look pretty good, man.” There it was again, that smile.

“Thanks…” I prayed my cheeks hadn’t flushed, as they usually did

whenever I was

complimented on how I looked. “… but anybody would be mad not

to think you have a great body.”

He nodded. “Yeah, and a lot of British guys here seem to think so.”
He caught my eye again.

“Really?”

“Totally! I think most of the English guys on campus just like the
idea of sucking on a big

American dick.”

“Er-erm,” was all I could reply.

“Whaddya you think?” He edged closer to me.

I couldn’t argue the fact his body was sculpted to perfection and his
dazzling white teeth

seemed to shine brighter with his all over tan.

“Erm…” I had nothing to contribute to the conversation that wouldn’t

convict me.

Chad really was the total package–immaculately styled honey blond

hair, buff, charming,

eloquent, and more annoyingly, even when he had sweated it out at

the gym, he could still give a runway model a run for his money.

“Come on, dude, tell me what you really think. It’s just us two here
and it’ll go no further,

promise.” His grey-green eyes seemed to burn a hole right through

me.

The room seemed to crackle with sexual tension.

“What do you want me to say?” I replied, my whole body trembling.

“Tell me how much you want my big dick.”

I feigned a laugh as terror coursed through me. “I’m straight mate,

and not into dick.”

“Really?” He yanked the pillow away from me before I had chance to

grab it.

“Oi, don’t—”

Then with a don’t bullshit me kind of look, he scored a winning goal.

“Then why are you tryin’
to hide that?” He pointed to my cock as it strained to escape my
tight shorts.

“I need a wee,” was my feeble excuse.

“Is that the best you can do?” The patch of pre-cum oozing through
the thin material of the

shorts told him how horny I really was and seeing his cock straining
for freedom against his

jogging pants didn’t help matters.

“Wow…” I gasped before I had a chance to stop myself. “… that’s

huge!”

“You ain’t seen nothin’ yet, Zane.”

He pulled his pants down and I swear I’ve never seen such a cock as
big as that, not even when

watching porn. Not that it mattered, not when all I wanted was to
taste it.

“How big is it?” I eyed it with curiosity, like I’d seen an animal
previously considered extinct.

“Big…”

I guessed it to be at least nine and a half inches long, and strangely

for an American guy, he

still had a foreskin. But that wasn’t the best part—his cock was not
only long, but it had girth and was veiny too.

“Now I know why you’re so popular with the girls.”

“Don’t forget the boys.”

“You never said.”

“Didn’t think I had to.”

With a touch of desperation, I lunged forward. “I want it,” I said.

Anticipating my move, he stepped back as I crashed to my knees.

“If you want my big cock in your mouth, beg for it.”

Exposed emotionally, and almost at his mercy, I looked up, as he

stared down at me. “What am I

doing?” I hadn’t meant to say it out loud.

“Who’d of believed you’d ever be on your knees waiting to service

me.”

I didn’t care for his analysis of the moment, but that’s all it was. A
moment when hormones

surged through my body and all sense and reason was overtaken by
the desire to simply fuck.

“That’s not what this is.”

“Then what is it?” He wanted me as much as I wanted him. But he

wasn’t going to give in to me

so easily. “Tell me what you want and it’s yours, Zane.”

“I want your cock, please.”

To my surprise, he slapped my face.

“Come on, you fucker. You can do much better than that. Tell me, or
I’ll go find a pussy to stick it in. Beg for it…”
“Please, sir. I want your cock.” I’d never been submissive in my life
and felt self-conscious.

What if this is some sort of colossal wind-up and I’d made a right
idiot of myself?

“Sir…mmm, now that’s better,” he replied, his voice dropping an

octave deeper as he edged

closer toward me.

I wasn’t expecting it, but he used his cock as a weapon and slapped
it across my face. Its weight was unexpected as was the force
behind the strike as it hit my cheek.

“Shit.” I looked up, anticipating another strike, but he only smiled at

me.

“How was that?”

“Good.” I opened my mouth, ready to taste it, not that I knew what
I was doing, but he pulled

away. It seemed I was too eager.

“You don’t get this monster cock that easily,” Chad teased, smirking.
“Fuckin’ beg for it, you

dirty cunt.”

His words unlocked the beast within me, and right then he could
have said or done anything,

and I’d have acquiesced. “Please, Chad. I’ve wanted your cock for so
long. Give it to me, please.

Make me choke on it.”

That was all he needed to hear as a trickle of cum oozed out of his
piss slit. I licked the end of his cock, but he pulled away again,
determined to tease me that little bit more.

“You wanna be my bitch?” he quizzed.

“Yes, I’ll be anything you want,” I replied, eager to get my way.

“Yes, what?” With a serious look, he grabbed my face forcefully.

“Yes, sir,” I dutifully replied.

“Good boy,” he growled, slowly rolling his foreskin back and forth
revealing his big bell end,

enticing me again.

I opened my mouth as he stepped forward.

“You better take a deep breath, slut.” He said as he pushed his

length to the back of my throat.

Initially, I gagged, but it didn’t matter to him.

He placed his hands at the back of my head and began to thrust

violently in and out of my

mouth.

I was gagging and retching so much, I thought I’d vomit. Tears

streamed down my cheeks, but it

seemed to arouse him all the more.

I tried to move, gasping for breath, but Chad wasn’t going to give
me the choice. Inexperienced as I was, I kept sucking it.
“Fuck man,” he groaned. “If I’d known you were such a good cock
sucker, I’d have given it to

you months ago.”

I wanted to tell him his was the first cock I had ever sucked but
found a rhythm I didn’t want to lose.

Reaching around, I put both my hands on his rock-hard, muscular

arse cheeks, and pulled him

as close to me as he could get without falling on top of me.

Now, his whole length was down my throat, I relished every single
inch of it. My gag reflex

seemed to have vanished the longer I worked his cock, so I carried

on, not wanting to stop.

But he had other ideas.

I could hear grunting noises and knew he was close to shooting his
load. “Fucccckkkk… I’m

gonna blow…”

It would be a first for me, but I wanted it. Seconds later, his thick
spunk flooded my mouth and oozed down the back of my throat.

Though I balked at the unfamiliar taste, I was amazed by the

amount of it.

“How was that?” I asked stupidly, wanting some sort of recognition

from him.

Chad wasn’t done yet, or perhaps unwilling to offer a further

appraisal. Instead, he pushed his cock back into my mouth.
His breathing was ragged, and I wondered if he was spent. But
suddenly, he pulled his cock out

of my mouth and grabbed a fistful of my hair before spitting in my

face.

I should have been appalled but such a degrading, disgusting act

turned me on. Although, I

knew if anybody else had spat in my face, I’d have gone crazy. Him
doing it added to the already crackling sexual tension.

“Now, let’s see how good your virgin ass feels clamped around my
big, fat dick.”

My tight hole was his for the taking.

“Zane, what the hell are you doing up there?” I’d just reached down
into my shorts and wrapped my

fist around my rock-hard cock, wanting to shoot my load, when

Jenna’s yelling brought me crashing

out of the past and into guilt-ridden territory.

JENNA

Despite being together for a long time, I had never been made privy
to this particular part of my

husband’s past; not that it would have bothered me in the slightest.

After all, many people experiment, and it shouldn’t mean a person is
compartmentalised into a particular way of being. Instead, I like to
think people love people regardless of gender.

But had I ever looked at my husband and thought for a moment he

had a romantic past with another

man? Never in a million years. There was no reason for me to

consider such a thing; no lingering stares as he passed a good-
looking guy in the street, no weird confessions during sex, nothing
out of the ordinary. He had never presented as homophobic and
always displayed little tolerance for any

bigotry or anti-LGBTQIA+ leanings, but this said more about the

man he was raised to be than

somebody hiding a part of themselves.

When overwrought emotions subsided, and I was able to look upon

Chad and their relationship

with fresh eyes, I asked question after question.

Did I get the answers I wanted?

Yes, and no.

Some satisfied my curiosity, other confessions seemed designed only

to appease me and force me

to move on.
But as I said above, had I known, it would not have stopped me
from falling for Zane or marrying

him. Instead, it could have heightened what we already had because

although I have no interest in

opening up my marriage to another, oftentimes, a word holds more

power than deed.

The fact is, bisexuality is now a part of everyday life, but now in my
thirties, I remember a time

when anything that deviated from the norm was frowned upon, even
by self-proclaimed enlightened

societies.

The old adage of don’t speak about it, pretend it doesn’t exist, and
it’s fine.

I was born in Sweden, to a more open-minded way of life, and

speaking for myself and those I

knew, we cared little about a person’s sexuality and focused on

happiness and well-being instead.

Therefore, a confession from Zane about his foray into an alternative

sexual lifestyle would have been cause for celebration not
condemnation.

But looking at it from his point of view, when a person does not
identify with that particular label, why address it at all?

Some people experiment, why not him?

My husband will categorically tell you he is not attracted to the male

sex in any way, shape, or
form.

Is that absolutely true?

Yes, I think so and while I know he has the occasional man crush;
stand up Scott Eastwood, just as

he will have a lifelong adoration to Aussie bombshell, and the only

woman he would ever leave me

for, Kylie Minogue, it doesn’t identify him. It’s just a silly crush with
somebody that you will never have a chance with.

In my heart of hearts, he fell for Chad the person, and not because
of what swung between his legs.

This knowledge of my husband and best friend, and after meeting

Chad, I understand it.

For Zane, there has to be something in a person besides their

physical attributes to attract him.

Whether it’s with a friend, or in a relationship, and I understand that

because although my husband is drop dead gorgeous and ticks
every box with his dazzling smile, bulging muscles, and monstrous

appendage, if there was nothing between his ears and no kindness

or compassion, or care for

humanity and those around him, I would have consigned him to the
vacuous dustbin after date number

one.

The absolute truth is, he is a conundrum to those who think his

outer beauty—the package the
world sees, and obvious intelligence he is blessed with should enable
him to rule the world. But there are two sides to his story and him
as a whole. He has zero ego and doesn’t want to rule anything,

aside from his own destiny.

Hugely successful in his chosen field, he can stand in front of a

packed courtroom and address a

judge and jury confidently and without batting an eyelid. But public
speaking or being the centre of attention outside of the day job is
his worst nightmare. Like I said, a conundrum to many, but to those
who know and love him, not so much.

We all know he is fiercely critical of himself and others. He is

outspoken to the point I recoil

because he pulls no punches, plus we have no idea what he will say

next. He is articulate, well-

spoken, and never swears, aside from in the bedroom. In short, his
mind works lightning fast and

words leave his lips like poetry, though many would stutter and
stammer in the same situation.

Those who have angered him on social media, or other such

platforms have felt his swift rebuke and ire. But make no mistake, he
would have no qualms in putting such people in their place face to
face and would actually rise to the challenge of doing so.

Keyboard warriors anger him because he does not believe most

would have the courage to say the

things they do if they stepped out from behind their screens—he

would, and there is no doubt he
would wipe the floor with any offender.

But with that no-nonsense attitude, his is a heart cast from the
purest and most solid of gold.

Kindness, generosity, compassion, love… all form an integral part of

his DNA and make him the

person he is.

He presents on the autistic spectrum, not that he would ever agree

or admit to it, but medically

speaking, I see the signs even if he chooses to ignore them. Like

most geniuses, there are oddities to his personality which make me
love him all the more, even when there are times I could quite
happily throttle the life out of him. Whatever I think, he sailed
through school, college, and University into a career he thrives in,
but more importantly adores. He employs thousands of people who
couldn’t love him anymore if they tried. Because he cares about
them, not just as a number or somebody that make

him money, but as living, breathing people who have the same ups
and downs as we do.

With as many good qualities, he can still frustrate me to the point I

have to step away for a minute or two, but for those of us who live
with a soulmate, it’s not such a rare occurrence.

We are as different as chalk and cheese.

I am deeply religious and attend church regularly.

Zane scoffs at my beliefs and says he would choose to believe the

tales of Frodo Baggins before
anything supposedly written in the Bible. He says it a tale thought up
by men in power to help

suppress women. But that’s his right, and regardless of what I

choose to accept, the scientist in me knows he has a point. So, let’s
call it faith, something I have in abundance, whereas he only has
faith in what he can see with his own eyes.

It's not just him. His entire family are non-believers, and though he
comes from parents who have

been christened into their respective churches, both agreed not to

force their religious views onto their children.

Despite the conflict it caused with my deeply religious parents, Zane

and I made that same

agreement. Though it would bring me immense comfort introducing

my children to the Bible, Zane

steadfastly refuses to allow it and says that they should find religion
on their own terms. If he has his way, they will avoid anything to do
with it, but he is a man of his word, and if they came to him and
said they had found God, his reaction would be something like, ‘Oh,
have you, that’s nice, shall we go out for Ice Cream?” Where the
kids are concerned there would be no song, dance, or tantrum, but
he

would refuse to be drawn into it.

Anyway, I have wandered far from my point, so please allow me to

right my course.

Zane’s refusal to step foot inside a church has caused quite the stir
over the years. Aside from his religious objections, and the fact he
finds the buildings themselves oppressive and creepy, he has
declined more offers from friends to be Best Man because it involves
making a speech.

While he knows it is an honour to be asked, his refusal leads to

confusion. Some see it is a snub,

but it is purely driven by the fact that outside of a courtroom the

thought of standing in front of strangers and making a speech
renders him a nervous wreck.

That nervous part is a contradiction to the terrifying gung-ho side to

his personality only seen in one place—the courtroom. I have
witnessed this version of my husband only a few times when I have

sat in on trials. For me, a forensic pathologist, and not versed in the
multi-layers of the law, it is a masterclass, and a sight to behold; a
stellar, calculated, and flawless performance designed to strike his
opponent down, and worthy of an Oscar for Best Actor.

Who is this man? I asked myself the first time I saw him in action,
professionally speaking of course.

Has he switched places?

Zane has an identical twin brother, so the chance of them doing a

switch was not beyond the realms

of possibility. But Sebastian had not stepped in for his quieter

brother, not since their school days.

No, what I was witnessing was a production worthy of the West End
stage.

He’d always told me the courtroom is the only place for

grandstanding, and I had no reason to
disbelieve him, but seeing him as part of the production blew my
mind.

There is no stammer, no pause, only an assassin who can cut a

person to shreds with words alone.

The man I just described is polar opposite to the man who hates to
walk into a bar on his own; or

shies away when both men and women hit on him. Any form of
attention bothers him, disturbs him

even, and I’ve seen him dismiss those who reduce him to an object
quickly and efficiently.

So, you know a little of him, but trust me, that has not scratched the
surface. An encyclopaedia

sized novel would not give me enough space to adequately describe

the puzzle that is Zane.

ZANE

I stuffed my hard cock back into my shorts and jumped up, rushing
down the stairs, praying she
wouldn’t notice.

Jenna eyed me suspiciously. “What have you been doing up there?

“Just sorting through some junk,” I lied, before I realised how

incriminating such innocent words

sounded.

Her expression told me she noticed the lump in my shorts. “Well, try
focusing on something other

than what’s between your legs for once.” She shot me a look that
told me how disgusted she was by

me.

I was hurting her, and it wasn’t something I wanted to do, or

anything that had crossed my mind. I

couldn’t help it and wished our marriage was in a better state than it
was.

I knew the rot in our relationship was caused by me and my inability

to vocalise what was wrong.

I had no idea how to repair what was obviously broken, so how

could I?

It seemed nothing would erase the dread in the pit of my stomach,

nor make them go away.

We were both still madly in love with one another, and I knew I
could speak for us both on that

score, but something was lacking, even if it still remained a mystery

to me.
All I knew was, our once mind-blowing sex life had petered out to an
occasional fumble. What

was once electric had lost its spark. Sex now seemed like a chore,
not an act of love, but something we had to do.

We kissed today. Tick.

We had sex. Tick

Job done!

Thinking about the mess we were in I felt a sadness that this was
our way of life now.

We’d always had an amazing time between the sheets, on the

bathroom floor, even in the privacy of

the acres of grounds surrounding our home.

By most people’s standards, we would be considered pretty

adventurous. But I was well aware

my own secret fantasy and recollections of days long gone wouldn’t

help us in that department.

Jenna liked to be romanced between the sheets, but I was beginning

to realise I wanted the exact

opposite. She wanted hearts and flowers and I wanted to be used by

big meaty cocks, one in
particular.

Seeing that one image of Chad brought things I’d tried so hard to
bury, flooding back to me.

It didn’t help bring me closer to Jenna. In fact, it forced a greater

distance between us because too many times over the next few
days, my mouse hovered over the Add Friend button on Chad’s
profile.

But that one act felt like cheating, and that didn’t sit right with me.

But I couldn’t lie to myself; Chad’s picture freed every emotion that
had long since been locked

away. That first time, and every other with him, was magical, and
the more I thought about it, the more I wished for him to be back in
my life.

He’d stripped me out of my clothes and pushed me onto my

stomach.

“I’m gonna fuck you so damn hard, Zane.”

“Do it.” I was nervous because I’d never been with a guy before, let
alone been fucked. But

deep down, it’s something I’d wanted for a long time.

“I’m gonna...” He spat on his hand and used it as lube, slathering his
cock and with no

tenderness or care, slammed it right up me.

“Argghh, shit, please, go slowly…” He was like an animal, uncaged.

“… it hurts…” The

burning sensation was like nothing I’d ever experienced before.

With another push, he was balls deep.

I let out a cry and pressed my hands against the wall.

“I’ve not even started yet.”

“Go easy, please.”

“I wanna fill your ass with my load.”

Irresponsible or not, I was lost to the moment. “Do it.”

“Your wish is my command.” His American drawl seemed more

pronounced. He pulled out

slowly, then pushed his dick all the way back in.

My senses were heightened and burning white hot

I’d never experienced that thin line between excruciating pain and
blissful pleasure, but right there, with him, everything was as it
should be.

I closed my eyes, savouring him opening me up, then he bit the

back of my neck, harder than I

was used to, though I never voiced my discomfort. It made my

arsehole clench tighter around his meaty, veiny cock. Slowly, he
climbed to a steady rhythm, and raking his nails down my back, he
slid in and out of me. I couldn’t contain the absolute pleasure and
moaned so loudly I thought my
dorm neighbours might hear. I didn’t care because Chad Mitchell was
mine, if only for a short

time. “Harder, please,” I begged as he pounded me into oblivion.

“You like that, bitch?”

“Yesssss….” Words failed me as the familiar tingling sensation started

in my balls. Seconds

later, unable to hold on any longer, I shot my load all over the bed.

My orgasm forced Chad’s, and seconds later, we’d crossed the line
from friends to who knows

what?

Endless memories of the days and nights we spent fucking

permeated my thoughts. What was just an

act became much more, to me at least. But that was then, and this
is now.

I watched as she slept, unaware of what was going on in my mind.

Jenna was the most beautiful

woman in the world, and I truly struck gold when she agreed to
marry me.

Back then, I was the happiest man alive, then our two kids came
along, and life couldn’t have been

better.

I had an amazing job, no mortgage to worry about, and every night

I got to go to bed with a

Goddess but right now, she wasn’t enough, and I hated myself for it.
ZANE

Do it!

No, don’t!

I argued with myself.

You’ll regret it.

I was in a Catch-22 situation and one I’d regret either way.

My finger hovered over the button, and I closed my eyes. Seconds

later, I took the plunge and did it anyway.

With one click, my life would change exponentially.

Friend Request Sent.

I had the option to cancel it and sat there considering it for a

moment. But by then it was too late, and I’d gone too far.

What have you done?

I had no time to argue further with myself as a notification popped

up.
Another random document with
no related content on Scribd:
The Project Gutenberg eBook of Economic
effects of the world war upon women and
children in Great Britain
 This ebook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United
States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with
almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away
or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License
included with this ebook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you
are not located in the United States, you will have to check the
laws of the country where you are located before using this
eBook.

Title: Economic effects of the world war upon women and

children in Great Britain

Author: Irene Osgood Andrews

Margaret A. Hobbs

Release date: January 6, 2024 [eBook #72639]

Language: English

Original publication: New York: Oxford University Press, 1921

Credits: The Online Distributed Proofreading Team at

https://www.pgdp.net (This book was produced from
images made available by the HathiTrust Digital
Library.)

*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ECONOMIC

EFFECTS OF THE WORLD WAR UPON WOMEN AND CHILDREN
IN GREAT BRITAIN ***
Carnegie Endowment for International
Peace
DIVISION OF ECONOMICS AND HISTORY
JOHN BATES CLARK, DIRECTOR

PRELIMINARY ECONOMIC STUDIES OF THE

WAR
EDITED BY
DAVID KINLEY
President of the University of Illinois
Member of Committee of Research of the Endowment

No. 4
ECONOMIC EFFECTS OF THE WORLD WAR
UPON WOMEN AND CHILDREN
IN GREAT BRITAIN

BY
IRENE OSGOOD ANDREWS
Assistant Secretary of the American Association
for Labor Legislation

AND
MARGARETT A. HOBBS
 SECOND (REVISED) EDITION

NEW YORK
OXFORD UNIVERSITY PRESS
AMERICAN BRANCH: 35 WEST 32ⁿᵈ STREET
London, Toronto, Melbourne and Bombay
1921
FIRST EDITION
FEBRUARY, 1918

SECOND (REVISED) EDITION

MAY, 1921

COPYRIGHT 1921
BY THE
CARNEGIE ENDOWMENT FOR INTERNATIONAL PEACE
2 Jackson Place
Washington, D. C.

Press of Byron S. Adams

Washington, D. C.
Preliminary Economic Studies of the War
EDITED BY DAVID KINLEY
President of the University of Illinois
Member of Committee of Research of the Endowment

1. Early Economic Effects of the War upon Canada.

By Adam Shortt, formerly Commissioner of the Canadian
Civil Service, now Chairman, Board of Historical
Publications, Canada.
2. Early Effects of the European War upon the Finance,
Commerce and Industry of Chile. By L. S. Rowe,
Professor of Political Science, University of
Pennsylvania.
3. War Administration of the Railways in the United
States and Great Britain. By Frank H. Dixon,
Professor of Economics, Dartmouth College, and Julius H.
Parmelee, Statistician, Bureau of Railway Economics.
4. Economic Effects of the World War upon Women and
Children in Great Britain. By Irene Osgood Andrews,
Assistant Secretary of the American Association for
Labor Legislation.
5. Direct Costs of the Present War. By Ernest L.
Bogart, Professor of Economics, University of Illinois.
6. Effects of the War upon Insurance with Special
Reference to the Substitution of Insurance for
Pensions. By William F. Gephart, Professor of
Economics, Washington University, St. Louis.
7. The Financial History of Great Britain, 1914-1918.
By Frank L. McVey, President,
University of Kentucky.
8. British War Administration. By John A. Fairlie,
Professor of Political Science, University of Illinois.
9. Influence of the Great War upon Shipping.
By J. Russell Smith, Professor of Industry,
University of Pennsylvania.
10. War Thrift.
By Thomas Nixon Carver, Professor of Political Economy,
 Harvard University.
11. Effects of the Great War upon Agriculture in the
United States and Great Britain.
By Benjamin H. Hibbard, Professor of Agricultural Economics,
University of Wisconsin.
12. Disabled Soldiers and Sailors—Pensions and Training.
By Edward T. Devine, Professor of Social Economy,
Columbia University.
13. Government Control of the Liquor Business in Great Brita
and the United States.
By Thomas Nixon Carver, Professor of Political Economy,
Harvard University.
14. British Labor Conditions and Legislation during the War.
By Matthew B. Hammond, Professor of Economics,
Ohio State University.
15. Effects of the War upon Money, Credit and Banking
in France and the United States.
By B. M. Anderson, Jr., Ph.D.
16. Negro Migration during the War.
By Emmett J. Scott, Secretary-Treasurer,
Howard University, Washington, D. C.
17. Early Effects of the War upon the Finance,
Commerce and Industry of Peru.
By L. S. Rowe, Professor of Political Science,
University of Pennsylvania.
18. Government Control and Operation of Industry in Great
Britain and the United States during the World War.
By Charles Whiting Baker, C. E., Consulting Engineer.
19. Prices and Price Control in Great Britain and
the United States during the World War.
By Simon Litman, Professor of Economics,
University of Illinois.
[1] 20. Cooperative Movement in Russia.
By E. M. Kayden.
[2] 21. The Germans in South America: A Contribution to
the Economic History of the World War.
By C. H. Haring, Associate Professor of History,
Yale University.
 [3] 22. Effects of the War on Pauperism, Crime
and Programs of Social Welfare.
By Edith Abbott, Lecturer in Sociology,
University of Chicago.
[4] 23. (Abandoned.)
24. Direct and Indirect Costs of the Great World War.
By Ernest L. Bogart, Professor of Economics,
University of Illinois.
(Revised edition of Study No. 5.)
25. Government War Contracts.
By John F. Crowell,

THE CARNEGIE ENDOWMENT FOR INTERNATIONAL PEACE

2 JACKSON PLACE, WASHINGTON, D. C.
 EDITOR’S PREFACE
The following work on the “Economic Effects of the War upon
Women and Children in Great Britain,” by Mrs. Irene Osgood
Andrews, Assistant Secretary of the American Association for Labor
Legislation, is the fourth in the series of preliminary war studies
undertaken by the Endowment. Mrs. Andrews’ monograph is a
sympathetic study of the situation by one who has long been familiar
with working conditions of women and children in this country and
abroad and the methods undertaken for their improvement. The
author points out the difficulties and evil results of the hasty influx of
women and children into industrial fields vacated by men who had
gone into the army, but reaches the conclusion that on the whole the
permanent effects are likely to be good. Such a conclusion by an
author whose sympathies with laboring women and children are
deep and whose outlook is broad is hopeful and cheering.
In the opinion of the editor, Mrs. Andrews has done her country a
service in preparing this monograph, for her recital of the difficulties
and evils of the British readjustment will enable our people to meet
the same crisis when it comes upon us, as it surely will if the war
continues, in the light of the experience of our Allies. If we go about
the matter intelligently in the light of this study, we should be able to
avoid some of the difficulties and evils of British experiences in this
matter and open the way for a larger industrial life to women, while
maintaining and indeed even improving, as we should, the conditions
under which they are called upon to work and live.

David Kinley,
Editor.
 AUTHOR’S PREFACE TO
REVISED EDITION
Following the publication of the first edition, opportunity came in
1919 to visit again both England and France and to secure first hand
information concerning the effects of the war upon the economic
position of women. As a member of the commission sent by the
Young Women’s Christian Association to study the industrial outlook
for women and children, there was occasion to interview many
representative people in this field and to collect a large amount of
recently published material bearing upon the subject.
The world conflict brought to women, in those countries where
the industrial system was kept intact, an extraordinary invitation to
active employment outside the home and in new occupations. In
England and France millions of women were dislodged from their
accustomed tasks and thrown into novel positions in industry, in
trade and commerce and even in the professions. Many thousands
have remained in the new occupations, and the vast majority will
never be content to go back to their former places on the old terms.
The remarkable physical endurance of the women doing war
work has been very generally recognized. This endurance has been
attributed partly to the zeal of the women, but more particularly to
higher wages, which enabled them to secure better food, clothing
and lodging. Comfort from increased income was supplemented by
canteens, welfare work and greater consideration in general for the
health of wage earners.
Will woman’s improved income level be permanent? Careful
analysis shows that during the war, despite government pledges,
women did not receive equal treatment with men in respect to
wages. Moreover, while money wages in many cases were greatly
increased, seldom did they keep pace with the advancing cost of
living. Furthermore, it became doubtful whether women were to be
allowed to retain the more attractive positions if these were desired
by men.
 No one, since the war experience, doubts the skill and
adaptability of women in performing a great number of tasks formerly
considered “men’s work.” With the extensive standardization which
British industry has adopted many more places can be successfully
filled by women. Equal opportunity to secure positions, as well as
equality of payment, appeals therefore to many thousands of women
as merely a matter of justice. But such a new status for women, it is
recognized, calls for more scientific methods in fixing wages. The old
basis of sex, family obligation, tradition as to “men’s work” and
“women’s work,” must be abandoned. Instead, some definite rate for
a specified occupation, and where possible specified qualifications
as to ability for such work, must be adopted. Moreover, it is
increasingly recognized that the national welfare demands that
money wages must be at least equal to the cost of living.
Such a program would place men and women more nearly on a
strictly competitive basis, with the awards given to the most efficient.
It would practically eliminate the constant “undercutting” now taking
place and would introduce a more scientific element into the present
chaotic wage market.
The insistent need for a thoroughgoing revision as to methods of
determining wage rates is recognized by Mrs. Sidney Webb in her
minority statement in the Report of the War Cabinet Committee on
Women in Industry, 1919. Mrs. Webb recommends for immediate
adoption four main principles. (1) The establishment of a national
minimum rate of wage; (2) the determination of a standard or
occupational rate above the national minimum; (3) the adjustment of
money wages to the cost of living; and (4) wherever possible the
requirement of efficiency qualifications. As to children and “young
persons” in Great Britain the Fisher Education Act already has
indicated a greater emphasis on training and there is hope that their
employment will eventually become either subordinate to or, better
still, a part of education.
The scarcity of labor now presents an appalling problem in
several countries and one of the outstanding effects of the loss of
human life in all war stricken nations is renewed interest in the
protection of motherhood. In these countries measures are being
adopted to conserve the lives of mothers and babies. Better medical
and nursing care are recognized as essential, cash maternity
benefits are increasing, maternity centers are being greatly extended
and in England the endowment of motherhood is proposed.
This revised monograph, while attempting to present a fairly
complete history of the industrial experience of women and children
during and immediately following the war, is still necessarily
tentative. Some years must elapse before it will be possible to
measure the full effects of the world war upon the economic
condition of women and children. This revision is brought out,
however, at this time to supply a demand which quickly exhausted
the first edition, and in the hope that it will be of service to those
interested in the progress of women industrial workers.

Irene Osgood Andrews.

New York City,
April, 1920.
 CONTENTS
Chapter Page
I Introductory Summary 1
II Work of Women and Children before the World War 14
III First Months of the World War—Labor’s Attitude
toward the War—Unemployment
among Women Workers 20
IV Extension of Employment of Women 28
V Organized Efforts to Recruit Women’s Labor 50
VI Sources of Additional Women Workers 75
VII Training for War Work 84
VIII Women and the Trade Unions 87
IX Control of Women Workers under the Munitions Act 92
X Wages 99
XI Hours of Work 126
XII Safety, Health and Comfort 146
XIII Effects of the War on the Employment of Children 167
XIV Effects of War Work on Women 191
XV Peace and Reconstruction 204
Appendices 229
Index 251

ECONOMIC EFFECTS
OF
THE WORLD WAR
ON
WOMEN AND CHILDREN
IN GREAT BRITAIN
 CHAPTER I
Introductory Summary

Under the conditions of modern warfare the industrial army in

factory, field and mine is as essential to national success as the
soldiers in the trenches. It is estimated that from three to five workers
are necessary to keep a single soldier at the front completely
equipped. Accordingly, it is not surprising that Great Britain during
four years of warfare saw what was little short of an industrial
revolution in order to keep up the supply of labor, to heighten the
workers’ efficiency, and to secure their cooperation. No changes
were more interesting and important than those which concerned
working women and children.

Increase in Numbers
Upon women and children fell much of the great burden of
keeping trade and industry active and of supplying war demands
when several millions of men were taken away for military service.
“Without the work of the women the war could not have gone on,”
said representatives of the British Ministry of Munitions while in New
York in November, 1917. Before the increased demand was felt,
however, the dislocation of industry during the first few months of
war brought far more suffering to women workers than to men. In
September, 1914, over 40 per cent of the women were out of work or
on short time. The “luxury” trades, which employed a large
proportion of women, were most severely affected, and the women
could not relieve the situation by enlisting as the men did. The
prewar level of employment was not reached until April, 1915.
Between that date and July, 1918, the number of females gainfully
occupied increased by 1,659,000 over the number at work in July,
1914.
 It is more difficult to ascertain the exact increase in the number of
working children and young persons under eighteen, but apparently
more children left school for work directly at the end of the
compulsory education period and more were illegally employed.
Official reports show an increase from 1,936,000 in July, 1914, to
2,278,000 in January, 1918, or 17.6 per cent, in the number of boys
and girls under eighteen who were gainfully employed. In addition, in
August, 1917, Mr. Herbert Fisher, president of the Board of
Education, admitted in the House of Commons that in the past three
years some 600,000 children under fourteen had been “put
prematurely to work” through the relaxation of child labor and
compulsory school laws. But in October of the same year the Board
of Trade stated that 90,000 boys had left school for work during the
war. The earlier exemptions, statistics of which have been published,
were almost entirely for agriculture, but judging from Mr. Fisher’s
statement a considerable number of exemptions were made for
mining and munitions work during the third year of the war.
One of the most notable effects of the war was the number of
occupations which women entered for the first time, until, in the
winter of 1916-17, it could be said that “there are practically no
trades in which some process of substitution [of women for men] has
not taken place.” According to official figures, 1,816,000 females
were taking men’s places in April, 1918.
During the first year of the war, however, women took men’s
places for the most part in transportation, in retail trade and in
clerical work rather than in manufacturing. In factory work, while
some women were found to be undertaking processes slightly above
their former level of skill in establishments where they had long been
employed, the most general change was a transfer from slack
industries to fill the expanding demands of firms making war
equipment. There women were employed in the same kinds of work
they had carried on before the war. The rush into the munitions
industry, where women engaged in both “men’s” and “women’s”
work, was one of the most important features of the second year of
war. While a few additional women had begun to be taken on very
early in the war, the increases were not large until the autumn of
1915 and early winter of 1916. During 1915-1916 also a decline was
first noticed in the number of women in domestic service, in the
printing trades, and in such typical “women’s trades” as
confectionery and laundry work.
In the third year of the war the substitution of women for men on
a large scale was extended from munitions to numerous staple
industries having a less direct connection with the war. In many
cases, of course, the women did not do precisely the same work as
their masculine predecessors. Especially in the engineering trades
almost an industrial revolution occurred between 1914 and 1917.
Skilled processes were subdivided, and automatic machinery was
introduced, all the changes tending toward greater specialization and
the elimination of the need of all round craft skill. Early in the war it
was generally considered that women were not as efficient as men
except on routine and repetition work. But as the women gained
experience it was observed that more and more of them were
undertaking the whole of a skilled man’s job, and the testimony as to
relative efficiency, on work within a woman’s strength, became far
more favorable. During the last year of the struggle, while a few new
fields were invaded, the process of substitution had progressed
nearly as far as possible, and the year witnessed mainly a settling
down into the new lines of work previously entered.
Though the increase in women workers in agriculture was less
marked than in industry, beginning with the summer of 1916, the
numbers rose, being 113,000 in 1918, in contrast to 80,000 in 1914.
The widening of professional opportunities and the opening of some
executive positions in industry and commerce were other important
features of the changes in women’s work.
Women even engaged in work ordinarily a part of soldiers’ duties.
Besides thousands of military nurses, a special corps of women
under semi-military discipline was recruited for work as clerks,
cooks, cleaners, chauffeurs and mechanics behind the lines in
France. These “Waacs,” as they were popularly called, numbered
over 50,000 by the end of the war. The “Wrens” did similar shore
duty for the Navy, and the “Wrafs,” woodcutting for the Board of
Trade. The women were able to take up their new lines of work with
surprisingly little formal training, the chief exceptions being short
practical courses for farm workers and semi-skilled munition makers.
Changes in the work done by children were considerably different
for girls and for boys. For girls the choice of occupations widened
much as for adult women. But for boys, though a few received earlier
promotion to skilled men’s work than would ordinarily have been the
case, on the whole training for skilled trades declined. With the men
drawn into the war and with the increasing cost of living, it was
natural that an increase should take place in the number of child
street traders, and in the number of children working outside school
hours.

Wages
Under war conditions the wages of both women and children
were raised, probably the largest gains being made by boy and girl
munition makers. The smallest rise seems to have occurred in the
unregulated, so-called “women’s trades,” like laundry work. The
trade boards made a number of increases in the industries within
their jurisdiction, but the changes were seldom proportionate to the
increase in the cost of living. Instead, what it was believed the
industry would be able to support after the war was usually the
determining factor. The economic position of the women who took
men’s places was undoubtedly improved, though, even taking into
account differences in experience and efficiency and the numerous
changes in industrial method, the plane of economic equality
between the two sexes was rarely attained. The government had the
power to fix women’s wages on munitions work and in so doing it
seemed at first to go on record in favor of the equal pay principle.
But, in practice, the principle was not applied to unskilled and semi-
skilled time work and the women failed to receive the same cost of
living bonuses as the men, though unquestionably the wages of
women substitutes in munitions work was much higher than the
prewar level of women’s wages. Where other industries were
covered by trade union agreements, women in most instances
received “equal pay,” but in the remaining cases of substitution, for
instance in agriculture, though considerable increases were gained,
the men’s rates were by no means reached.

Recruiting New Workers

It is of interest to learn how England secured women workers to
meet the demands of war. For the most part they came from three
different groups. First, workers changed from the low paid “women’s
trades” and various slack lines of work to munitions and different
kinds of “men’s work.” Second, the additional women workers were
mainly the wives and other members of working men’s families, most
of the married women having worked before marriage. Soldiers’
wives often found their separation allowances insufficient. In general
both patriotic motives and the rising cost of living undoubtedly played
a part in sending these women and many young boys and girls into
industry. Finally, a comparatively small number of women of a higher
social class entered clerical work, agriculture and the munitions
factories, in many instances in response to patriotic appeals.
Many of the women and children were recruited through the
activities of local representative “Women’s War Employment
Committees” and “County Agricultural Committees,” formed by the
government, and working in close cooperation with the national
employment exchanges. A large number of women, about 5,000 a
month in the winter of 1917, and even a good many young boys and
girls were sent through the exchanges from their homes to work at a
distance. According to representatives of the Ministry of Munitions,
the securing of their well being outside the factory under such
circumstances was the most serious problem connected with their
increased employment. Efforts to provide housing, recreation and
improved transit facilities were at first in the hands of the voluntary
committees, but later it proved necessary for the Ministry to appoint
“outside welfare officers” to supplement and coordinate this work.
The “hostels” with their large dormitories and common sitting rooms
which were frequently open in munition centers for the women
proved unsatisfactory because of the rules required and the
difficulties of maintaining necessary discipline. In many cases, also,
they were unpopular with the women themselves. In an attempt to
solve the housing problem, the government, in the summer of 1917,
was forced to enact a measure making compulsory the “billeting” of
munition makers with families living in the district, but this does not
seem to have been put into actual practice.

Removal of Trade Union Restrictions

Trade union restrictions on the kinds of work women were
allowed to perform were set aside for the war period and “dilution”
was made widely possible by the munitions acts, in the case of
munitions of war, and by agreements between employers and
employes in many staple industries. In all cases the agreements
included clauses intended to safeguard the standard wage rate and
to restore the men’s places and the trade union rules after the war.
Even where the munitions acts gave the government power to force
“dilution” it proceeded mainly through conferences and agreements.
Officials of the Ministry of Munitions claimed to believe that the
substitution of women or any other important change intended to
increase production could only proceed peacefully if labor’s consent
and cooperation were secured. They believed also that provisions to
safeguard labor standards are essential to gain such cooperation,
and that anything in the nature of coercion or a “labor dictatorship”
would necessarily fail to reach the desired aim of enlarged output.

Control of Labor by the Munitions Acts

Considerable irritation was aroused among the munition makers,
both men and women, by the control exercised over them through
certain features of the munitions acts. Strikes were forbidden and
provision for compulsory arbitration was made. Special munitions
tribunals were set up which might impose fines for breaches of
workshop discipline. In order to stop the needless shifting from job to
job which was hampering production, a system of “leaving
certificates” was established. Workers who left their previous