Cadet Life at West Point

by Hugh T. Reed

To clean this rusty bayonet.

Chorus—

And all day long, in rain or shine,

We’ve got these darned old tents to line.

Chorus—

There were a good many more verses to this song, and songs written by others of my class, but I have forgotten them.

Uniforms were issued to the plebes as fast as they were made, and in a few weeks all were uniformed. The only pocket in the whole suit was a watch pocket in the pants. We were permitted to carry a watch, but not a chain. Our handkerchiefs were tucked in the breasts of our coats. After getting uniforms we were sent to the trunk rooms to put away our cit clothes, as we were not allowed to keep them in either our tent or barrack room. In a few weeks the plebes were admitted to the battalion, at first to march to and from meals, and then for parades, but they still had to carry disengaged hands, palms to the front.

After supper we were permitted to bathe in the Hudson at Gee’s Point, and many of us availed ourselves of the privilege. As I have said, soon after reporting, I wondered if the old cadets laced. Well, now, when bathing, I discovered they did not lace. Still, I wondered why old cadets’ waists were so much smaller than plebes’ waists.

Every day, especially during guard-mount, parades, and band practice, there used to be many ladies and other visitors under the trees near the guard tents. The upper classmen seemed to enjoy being with them, but the plebes were seldom wanted there. The plebes used to hear that there were hops three times a week during camp, but that is about all they knew of hops. However, they went to the old fencing room in the Academic Building and took dancing lessons, and as no ladies were admitted they danced with one another.

At last the time arrived for us to go on guard, for there was a chain of cadet sentinels all around the camp. We dreaded our first night on post, but each plebe had to experience it. Our guns were not loaded, and we had no cartridges; the rifle with the bayonet on is all we had to protect ourselves with. It was amusing afterwards to compare notes of our experiences. Some who had boasted most fared the worst. Some had had their rifles taken away, some had been tied to a tree, some rolled down into Fort Clinton ditch[23] alongside of Posts No. 2 and No. 3. Others had been frightened by ghosts, or confused by numerous parties approaching at the same time from different directions. Some replies to the challenge being a band of Indians, a body of armed troops, and the Prince of Wales. Of course, the plebe would call for the corporal of the guard, but this official never got around in time to see anyone, except the sentinel. The poor plebe was then taken to task for allowing himself to be disarmed, or for not detaining parties till the corporal arrived. When questioned as to who the parties were the answer invariably was “I could not recognize any of them.” When the old guard marched off the next morning each member fired three shots at a target.[24] When it came M⸺s’ time to fire he was badly frightened because he had never fired a gun. And when asked why he did not close his left eye when aiming he said that no one had told him to close it.