Parade on the Plain
The line is now formed stretching from the flag pole to the trees in front of barracks. A few minutes of silence reign over the parade while the Adjutant moves smartly and rapidly to his place in front of the Battalion, and by command, brings the Corps to “parade rest.” The golden sun sinking in the west plays its dying rays on the long gray line, causing the men in ranks to blink and blink on account of its brilliancy, and illuminating the bell buttons of the dress coats until they sparkle like so many gems. Meanwhile, the band has marched in front of the Corps and resumed its place on the right. The retreat sounds. Then a hush falls over the visitors’ seats as the spectators rise to do honor to the flag, while the neighboring hills reverberate with the strains of the Star Spangled Banner. The exercise in the manual of arms being terminated, the band once again crashes forth and the thin gray line of cadet officers, with their feathered plumes fluttering and the knots of their red ashes swinging back and forth, sweeps forward to the officer reviewing the parade. Smart salutes are exchanged, the cadet officers face about and return to their companies to march them in review and back to barracks.
Hand in hand with the Infantry instruction goes that of the Cavalry to which is allotted the next greatest amount of time in the schedule of training. Cadets are taught the fundamentals of every branch of the Service, and all cadets receive instruction in riding and in Cavalry tactics whether or not they are destined for that arm. Infantry officers must know how to ride as well as those of the mounted branches. Frequently their duties require them to be mounted, and when they arrive at the grade of field officer, major, and above, they are obliged to command their troops from the back of a horse. It is only during their first year at the Academy that cadets do not attend cavalry instruction. When they become Third Classmen their acquaintance with the horse begins. Cadets must be taught to ride before they can be advanced to the tactics of the cavalry, and as a matter of fact, learning to ride well takes so much of the allotted time that comparatively little is left for the cavalry problems. The cadets who join this branch of the service will learn their cavalry tactics chiefly in the Army.
Beginning with the Yearlings, therefore, lessons are given in equitation, outdoors in good weather and in the magnificent Riding Hall during the winter. At first life in the Riding Hall is hard for those men who have never before ridden, but once they learn the art of “sticking on” they enjoy the exercise that riding affords. The first few weeks are particularly trying. When the Yearlings march in upon the spongy tanbark, they find themselves face to face with a whole row of bareback horses lined up along one side of the hall. The animals are champing their bits and wagging their heads apparently in sheer joy of the anticipation of “policing” a few victims. Little chills run up and down the spines of the Yearlings and their bodies are covered with goose flesh as they read the challenge in the eyes of the beasts.
“Fall out!” orders the instructor. Ranks are broken and the men run over to the grinning horses, scrutinizing them with breathless impatience, first one, then the other, hoping to catch a sight of a kind and gentle glance.
“1. Prepare to mount! 2. Moun-n-n-n-t!” commands the instructor in a sepulchral voice. Then follow frantic efforts to climb the slippery hides—ineffectual jumps succeeded by sudden descents. Finally they get aboard and all goes well until the heartless instructor intones:
“Slow trot. March-h-h-h-h-h!”
Such efforts at balancing never before were seen! One man on a razorback tries every spot from the mane to the croup in an attempt to find one little piece of hide whereon he might sit in peace and quiet; another on an imitation Percheron wabbles most dangerously and falls off going around the curve; another is firmly grasping the mane, or tugging at the iron mouth of some malicious brute that insists upon holding its head high, with both ears bent back to enjoy the muttered curses of the rider. The galleries are lined with the daily visitors who smile gleefully upon the embryo cavalrymen, but the distressed Yearling’s gaze turns reproachfully toward the spot where the young girls of the Post may be seen bunched together and giggling.
As the days pass by the Yearling finds that his seat becomes more and more secure and by the time that he has arrived at the dignity of a Second Classman he feels that he is able to cope with the wildest of the equine breed. During the first year the drill was more or less drudgery, but after twelve months of practice he enjoys the lessons. He feels the pleasure that comes from the ability to make one’s muscles obey the will, to feel the horse yielding to the slightest touch of leg or rein. The thrill of the leap over the ditch and of the jump over the wall are sensations that he loves. Later on when he goes out to the cavalry drill ground for instruction in tactics, it is the gallop and the charge en masse that give a new meaning to the word “drill.” It is no longer a task but a pleasure.
His progress in handling his horse enables him to proceed to mounted pistol practice and to enjoy the privilege of riding on the road, and of polo. By the time that he has become a First Classman he is ready to devote his time not so much to equitation as to real Cavalry instruction. He learns how to reconnoiter, how to patrol. As in his Infantry instruction, he must solve problems innumerable: the forming of the advance and rear guards, the establishing of outposts, making and breaking camp, the proper conduct of the march, how to care for his horse the same as though he were an enlisted man. He must groom him, feed him, and water him. He is called upon to perform every duty that is required of enlisted men in the Cavalry so that when he shall become an officer, he will know just how much to expect of his men. He will so understand the fatigue of grooming, the difficulty of managing some horses, and the impossibility of always being alert and attentive that he will be patient and sympathetic, judging his men by their limited advantages and not by the standard that he has attained through a training par excellence.