The idea of some who thought in the early days of 1917 that family or political influence would get them a commission was the subject of not a little good natured ridicule in the service, which found expression in verses like these:
I never thought I'd be a gob—
You see, dad owns a bank—
I thought at least I'd get a job
Above a captain's rank.
But woe to me, alack, alas!
They've put me in white duds;
They don't quite comprehend my class—
They've got me peeling spuds.
It was not easy work, this learning to be a seaman and studying to be an officer. But it made men of those youngsters. The fact that promotion depended on their own efforts, that there was a fair field and no favor, inspired them to effort as nothing else could have done.