Read the excerpt from We Shall Not Be Moved. Everywhere in the garment district, by the front gates of little shops and big ones, picketers marched and sang. "O Dubinushka," they sang, and "Tortured and Enslaved," and other Russian folk and revolutionary airs. Icy rains poured down on them, some were in danger of frostbite — a winter of record-breaking cold had already begun — but there they were and there they stayed. The union men were amazed. "There never was anything like it," one ILGWU official declared. "An equal number of men never would hold together under what these girls are enduring."