The Young Scout: The Story of a West Point Lieutenant

by Edward Sylvester Ellis

The selection of a candidate by competitive examination for the United States Military Academy at West Point has not the slightest effect upon his admission to that institution. When he knocks at the door he stands precisely upon the same footing as if he were a country lad from the backwoods of Illinois or the plains of one of the territories. His selection simply carries with it the probability that he is the best qualified of the numerous youths living in his congressional district who are seeking the appointment.

James Decker joined the little multitude that were put through the severe ordeal which awaits every candidate who has a chance of becoming an officer of the United States army by means of the best military institution in the world. He was hopeful but anxious, as is every young man. The first damper he received was when two other lads, who seemed to be fine specimens of young American manhood, and were his companions in the preliminary efforts were rejected. One was from California and broke down on the mental test. The other was a tall, stoop-shouldered youth from Kentucky, who was declared physically deficient.

The ordeal through which James passed brought out the cold perspiration all over his body. He was literally tested from the crown of his head to the soles of his feet. When the medical board found no physical defect, he was set to work answering questions relating to his scholarship. This occupied three days, and when completed, the great burden was lifted from his shoulders, by the notice that he had passed successfully and was a plebe.

This was the opening of a most trying experience. Hazing is reduced to the minimum at West Point, but enough of it remains to test the spirits of a proud boy. The plebes have to play the part, more or less, of servants to the upper classmen, who are sometimes so oppressive that the young cadet rebels. He is foolish to do so, but occasionally it is inevitable. James was on the point more than once of challenging his persecutor to a bout at arms, but he gained a great victory over himself by passing through the first year without anything of the kind.

The collision came during his second year and was settled one bright morning in spring, by a battle near the ruins of old Fort Putnam, in the presence of some twenty members of the different classes who were in the secret. Young Decker’s opponent had made himself unbearably obnoxious, and when he was utterly and overwhelmingly defeated, many of his own classmates were glad of it. The violation of the rules did not reach the authorities, and Cadet Decker was involved in nothing more of the kind during the four years spent at the institution.

Young Decker maintained a high grade of scholarship throughout his course. Once he stood second in his class, but dropped slightly, and when he was graduated his standing was five. This entitled him to enter the corps of engineers, or to take his choice of the branches below that.

“The cavalry is the arm of the service that suits me,” he said to his roommate, who was from Alabama.

“It isn’t half so good as the engineers or artillery,” remarked his friend, who expected to be assigned to the latter. “I look upon the engineers as the real, ornamental branch of the service.”

“And that’s the reason I want none of it,” replied Decker; “I am going into the army to make a record and win promotion.”

“The engineers have a good thing; you are sure to be assigned to one of the large cities on the sea-coast or to Washington, where you have plenty of society and many social privileges, with little hard work.”