Cadet Life at West Point

by Hugh T. Reed

Ah! Charley, you’ve found me! a galop?

The ‘Bahn frei’? Yes, take my bouquet,

And my fan if you will, now I’m ready—

You’ll excuse me, of course, Mr. Gray.”

One day I received a letter from home, saying that my father, mother and sister were coming east and would pay me a visit. I wrote at once and said that I would be delighted to see them any time after the fifteenth of July, but not before then, as I would be too busy to see much of them. The fact was I would not get out of confinement before the fifteenth of July, but I did not tell them. They came the latter part of July, and we were delighted to be together several hours every day during the visit. They were charmed with the beauty of the place, and my mother said when I returned home next year that I need not take my trunk in the back yard again to open it, for now that she had seen what a sweet and clean place West Point was she was satisfied there were no bedbugs there.

There is a good deal of cactus, of the prickly pear variety, growing on the hills about the Point, and one day when B⸺m’s father and mother were there from Cincinnati they wanted some to take home with them, and Mr. B⸺m kindly offered to send some to my father, if I wished him to. Of course I wished it. I expected the folks at home to speak about receiving the cactus, hence I did not refer to it for a long time, and when I did my mother told me not to speak of it to my father, as he was very angry about the cactus. It appeared that Mr. B⸺m put it in a box and sent it prepaid to my father, and as he supposed that I had written about it, he did not write. My father opened the box and not knowing anything about cactus, he took it cautiously in his hands, with the natural painful results. He dropped the cactus, and, as luck went, he rubbed his hands on his face and neck, and they too became filled with the stickers.

Just across the south line of cadet limits in my day was Kinsley’s apple orchard, and many a cadet run it there for apples. One day Mr. Kinsley, himself an old graduate of the Academy, caught several cadets in his orchard, so he hitched up at once and drove to the superintendent’s office to report the case. The superintendent said that if Mr. Kinsley could identify the cadets they should be punished; he said he could identify them. So when the battalion was formed Mr. Kinsley passed down the line, but failed to identify them, for the reason, he said, that all cadets looked alike.

One Saturday afternoon four of us first classmen stuffed pillow cases in the breasts of our coats and deliberately went to Kinsley’s for apples, and we proposed to help ourselves, too. Kinsley’s house was in one corner of the orchard and there were stone fences around and through the center of the orchard. We went to different trees and found all the apples we wanted on the ground, so we set to work filling our pillow cases. B⸺y filled his, set it by a stone fence on the far side from the house, and then boldly climbed the fence and ventured to trees nearer to the house. His approach made the chickens cackle and the ducks quack, thus attracting a lady’s attention. She came out of the house and spoke to B⸺y, who had three or four apples in his hands. We heard their voices and then emptied most of our apples on the ground and ran away, as there was no use of any more of us getting caught than necessary. After we had been back in barracks awhile we went over to see how B⸺y had gotten away. He said that Mrs. Kinsley told him that she did not object to any one taking two or three apples as he had done, but that she did not want the cadets to carry them off by the bag full. She then asked him who we were, and he told her we might be plebes, as older cadets knew better than to do such a thing. We asked him what he did with his pillow case of apples, and he said: “You don’t suppose I had the cheek, after my narrow escape, to bring away a bag full, do you?” Notwithstanding this statement, and the fact that B⸺y was the first Captain of the Corps, we put our hands up into his chimney, moved a stick and down fell his pillow case of apples.

Along in December, when we felt confident of graduating the next June, we began to discuss what we would adopt as our “Class Ring.” Jewelers in New York, Philadelphia and other cities, knowing that it was customary for each class at the Point to adopt a certain handsome ring as its class ring, submitted samples to us. Upon receiving about twenty samples we held class meetings, and after much discussion part of the class wanted to adopt one of the designs while the rest wanted to adopt another one. Finally we agreed to abide by a majority vote, but when the ballots were counted there was a tie. Then we agreed to take two pieces of paper of the same size, and to write the maker’s name of one of the two rings on one paper, and the maker’s name of the other ring on the other paper, to put the two papers in a cap, shake them up, hold the cap above the head, and to let T⸺r draw one paper which should decide the case. This was done and ratified; the ring adopted was a gold ring with a large setting; there were thirteen stars around the setting, and on one side under the stars there was an eagle with one wing spread; on the other side under the stars was a helmet on crossed rifles with the last two figures of the year of our graduation in the lower angle of the cross, and from here around to the eagle was a chain. It was agreed that each member of the class could select his own setting, and some selected amethyst, some topaz and others blood-stone or onyx. It was also agreed that each member could use his pleasure about having the “Class Motto” cut into the setting. A Latin motto was suggested, but many of us opposed it, because the Academic Board had not made Latin a part of the course of study at West Point, but after much deliberation, my class, by a close vote, decided to add Latin to our course, and that “Omnia pro Patria” should embody the entire course of Latin for our class, and for fear that we might forget it we adopted it as the motto of our class. We then agreed that the motto, when cut in the setting of the class ring, should be put on a ribbon, partially enclosing the last two figures of our graduating year. I now remember my Latin course better than any other course of study, for I have never forgotten that “Omnia pro Patria” means “All for Country.” About this time we also selected the photographer that should make our Class Albums,[60] but left it to each member to make his own selection of pictures for it. There is an official photographer now. As each cadet had to pay for his own ring and album, it was agreed that he could buy them at his pleasure, but early in January nearly every one in the class was wearing his class ring and in May the albums began to arrive.