THE DISCIPLINE OF THE MIND
The longer a cadet remains at West Point, the clearer and finer becomes
his point of view. During the first few months of his career, a glimpse
of which we had in the previous chapter, he is so busy learning the
mechanism of the drills, the care of his person and equipment, and
familiarizing himself with all of the strange names and unusual customs
of military life that his point of view is more or less clouded.
Little by little, during the summer encampment, as soon as the newness
of his surroundings begins to wear away, he finds himself undergoing a
change of heart; he experiences a new feeling and appreciation of his
work and a sort of exhilaration of discovering the progress that he is
making in his daily tasks. For example, instead of going out to parade
in a dazed and mechanical manner, he marches forth filled with pride
that he is really a member of so _élite_ a Corps. He strives to do his
bit with all his might. He lends a close attention to all commands so
that no act of his will mar the appearance of his company, and does his
utmost to assume the correct position of a soldier that is incessantly
dinned into his ears by the ever alert file closers. He feels that he
is changing, but does not understand just how. In reality his point
of view is swinging around, it is clearing up, and the new cadet is
beginning to be animated with the spirit of West Point.
The scales seem to drop from his eyes. He is no longer concerned so
completely with his troubles and difficulties, with his inability
to get into his white trousers without mussing them badly, with his
capacity for doing “wooden” things, or with all of the thousand and one
little heartburns for things done and left undone.
On the contrary, the incidents of his surroundings that are unrelated
to himself begin to interest him. With quiet amusement he watches
the antics of the yearlings, envying them their careless nonchalant
air. His heart goes out in sympathy to some fellow plebe who has just
incurred the displeasure of an upper-classman. He secretly admires the
military bearing of the cadet officers, the fit of their blouses, their
erect and graceful carriage. To him they represent the ideal in the
flesh toward which he is striving. There is a certain something about
the manner in which they perform their duties that inspires the plebe
to extra efforts. In the hope of receiving a word of praise from the
cadet captain at inspection before parade, an extra rub is given to the
rifle or breastplate, and more care is taken in climbing into those
stiff white trousers. He listens with the greatest interest to the
chatter about the approaching Academic term and accepts with gratitude
the counsels sometimes offered him by the cadet captain.
As the camp draws to a close, not only the captain but all of the
upper-classmen give the plebe gratuitous advice about the coming
Academic year. At every formation while awaiting the sounding of the
assembly, little groups gather in the company streets and interrogate
the plebes as to their previous mental training. A note of restlessness
begins to pervade the camp as the month of September draws nigh. Once
again the books must be taken down from the shelves and hours of study
devoted to the solution of problems.
The plebe views the close of the camp with a sigh of relief mingled
with not a little anxiety. It is true that he is glad to get into
barracks where he will have a little more personal liberty, and be free
from the incessant drilling, drilling. On the other hand, the opening
of the Academic year fills him with some misgivings about his ability
to master the studies and fulfill his ambition to become an officer.
Before he is really aware of the flight of the days, September the
first has arrived. He leaves the life of camp where almost the entire
day has been devoted to military exercises of one sort or another and
plunges into the Academic work. A new sort of life begins and the
routine of the day is readjusted. With determination he sets out to
climb the stony path of knowledge that alone will lead him to his
commission. The branch of the service that he will eventually select is
as yet unknown to him, but as he proceeds in his career at the Academy
he will have a taste of the duties of each arm, and he will later on be
able to choose his branch with intelligence.
The beauty about the West Point system of training officers is that
it educates them for all branches of the Army, for the line and for
the staff. When a man graduates, he is assigned either to the Corps of
Engineers, the Ordnance, Artillery, Cavalry, or Infantry according to
his choice based on his class standing. The highest men usually select
the Corps of Engineers, although it is not unusual for a man who is
recommended for the Engineers by the Academic Board to choose some
branch of the mobile Army.
The curriculum to which our young cadet must devote nine months of the
year is highly scientific and technical. The corner-stone of the course
is mathematics, and the great mass of the structure is made up of the
exact sciences. Primarily, the curriculum is designed to give the
cadet a liberal education and to turn out a man with sharpened mental
processes. It does not lay the greatest emphasis upon the training of
cadets in the practical duties that pertain to any particular arm or
corps. The reasons for this are very sound.
It is the belief of all officers who have given the question of
military education any thoughtful study that the first requisite of
any army is a corps of officers trained in the essentials of their
profession. What really does this mean? It simply means that officers
of the Army should be well educated men, not only those who are to go
into the technical branches such as the Engineers and the Ordnance, but
the line officers as well. The authorities at West Point have therefore
developed a broad scientific course, fully convinced that the mental
discipline, powers of investigation, and accurate reasoning necessary
in solving problems in the exact sciences are the same mental qualities
that are needed whether in planning a great campaign, building a Panama
Canal, or fighting the savage Moro in the distant Philippines.
The advisability of giving all cadets, those destined for the line as
well as for the staff, the same education has been questioned more than
once. As long ago as 1843, a Board of Officers, of which General Scott
was president, made certain criticisms of the course of instruction. It
is interesting to quote the answer made by the Academic Board, for the
ideas set forth therein express in general the opinions held today:
The Academic Board believes that one of the most important objects
of the Academy is to subject each cadet, previous to his promotion
to a higher grade in the Army, to a thorough course of mental as
well as military discipline to teach him to reason readily and
accurately to apply right principles to cases of daily occurrence
in the life of a soldier. They are satisfied that a strict course
of mathematical and philosophical study, with applications to the
various branches of military science, is by far the best calculated
to bring about this end, and that the present scientific course at
the Academy, the result of the experience of many years, is in its
main feature such a course.
They are aware that many of the cadets, as is the case with most
of those who pursue a scientific course at other institutions,
will have little occasion to make practical applications of the
many mathematical problems that they meet, and that they may have
passed over certain problems without thoroughly understanding
their meaning in all their points. Still, if the course has been
thoroughly taught, the reasoning faculties will have been strongly
exercised and disciplined and a system of habit and thought
acquired which is invaluable in the pursuit of any profession,
and as desirable for the infantry or dragoon officer as for any
other officer in the service. The officer whose mind has thus been
disciplined and who is not forgetful of the duty he owes to the
government that has furnished him with opportunities so valuable,
will acquire facts and information in whatever station the
interests of the service may place him. This discipline and system
he will learn at an early age only, and nowhere so well as during
his term of service at the Academy.
In recent years, strong influences have been brought to bear on the
Academy to change the course so as to make it more practical. The
advocates of this change ignore the ends toward which West Point’s
course works, heretofore successfully, and desire to see cadets
leave West Point with what they call a practical knowledge of the
different arms. This means that they wish the graduated cadet to join
his regiment well versed in the routine work of the Army, and would
have West Point take precious time from mental training to teach a
more complete knowledge of the mechanism of the drills. If West Point
followed this advice, the graduated cadet would have a difficult road
in solving the big problems that will arise in his career. If in the
West Point course emphasis were laid upon the practical work rather
than upon the intellectual training, then the cadet would simply be
storing up knowledge instead of learning how to think. When therefore
any situation would arise, the tendency would be to make a requisition
upon the storehouse for a solution. If there is no similar situation
tucked away on the shelves of memory, that will serve as a guide, he
will in many cases be at a loss how to proceed. Not so, however, if his
mind has been trained correctly. He will work out his own solution.
Many people believe that the whole science of the military profession
is embraced in a book of drill regulations whose practical
demonstration on the drill and parade grounds constitutes all that
is necessary to make a successful officer. They do not realize that
battles are won first with the brain and then with the sword. They
rather regard the work of officers much the same as manual labor that
anyone can do, and they do not admit that any great amount of mental
training for the officers is necessary.
I do not wish to give the impression that there is no practical
training at the Academy--far from it. But I am glad to say that it
has been allotted its proper place in the course. Once the theory is
mastered, the practical is quickly learned afterwards. Any cadet with
a trained mind can readily learn the practical duties that may be
demanded of him as an officer.
It is an astonishing fact that I have heard West Point methods
criticised in the Army because a young graduate upon joining his
regiment did not know how to make out a _morning report_! Why should
he? The fact that any boy of average intelligence can learn to make one
out in fifteen minutes should be a complete answer to all demands that
cadets should be taught these trivialities at the Academy.
The criticism leveled at West Point by officers of the Army is unjust.
Older officers expect too much of the graduated cadet. I have noticed
that they demand of these young men, immediately upon joining, the same
mature conception and efficient execution of certain duties as they
themselves are able to display only after years of experience.
Upon graduation from West Point, I dare say that there is no more
highminded, well-trained, and efficient body of young men in the
world. The graduates join their commands brimming over with youth,
intelligence, enthusiasm, and energy and ruled by intense loyalty. They
want to do what is right. They want to go forward in their profession.
They make every effort to perform well their duties. All that they need
are leaders among their superiors who will develop their aspirations.
Sometimes they encounter a distinct air of hostility, occasionally a
petty attitude on the part of some older officers whose one ambition is
to “put them in their place,” and, too frequently, simply indifference.
The result is that the young officers quickly become a prey to the
red tape, the dull routine, the narrowness of post life, or to the
mental inertia of prolonged duty upon the border where almost every
stimulating influence is absent. If only there were enough good leaders
to take this wonderful material that the Academy sends forth annually
and develop it, there is no telling to what heights these young
officers would rise.
But to return to our plebe who makes his début in Academic work
September the first. The evening before has been spent in earnest
preparation for the lesson in mathematics, and he sets forth on this
early autumn day to grapple with the hardest study of his course.
First call for recitation is sounded at seven minutes before eight
o’clock. The trumpeter, an enlisted man of the Army, blows “school
call” first in the area of barracks, then outside of the north
sally-port, on the Plain side of the buildings. The call is repeated
several times, and as its notes float out on the air, the barracks
begin to disgorge the cadets, sometimes singly, but more often in
groups of twos and threes. The more prompt ones pile out on the cement
walk, standing near their places in the ranks to await the assembly.
The majority are laughing and talking or discussing the lesson, while
others, thirsting for knowledge until the last, keep their noses
in their books. Their comrades sometimes tease them, calling them
“tenth-boners” in good-natured derision, or steal up behind them and
shut their books for them saying, “Oh, come off spec-ing tenths,” which
means to desist from studying at the last moments to better the mark.
At one minute before assembly the cadet officer of the day, a straight
young man in a red sash and red crossbelt (bound up, as Patsy O’Hara of
1904 wittily remarked, in his official red tape), takes his post in the
center of the area and commands: “Form your sections!”
Instantly books are slammed, all noises, talking, laughing, skylarking,
cease, and the scattered gray figures seem to magically form themselves
into compact little squads under the direction of their section
marchers who stand out in front counting them. The door of the
Guardhouse opens and the O. C. (officer in charge) appears upon the
“poop deck,” stern, implacable, almost sphinx-like, and surveys coldly
the formation. For the brief space of a few seconds all is quiet except
for the occasional shuffling of a section that has misjudged its proper
space. Then the trumpeter sounds the assembly. A few belated men are
tearing to their places in ranks, running a race with the fading notes
of the trumpet and landing bang! into the rear rank just in time to
keep from being reported absent. The kind-hearted trumpeter often takes
a deeper breath (especially in winter when he sees the belated ones
recklessly dashing across the icy walks), and holds on to those last
notes of assembly in a way that was never intended by the composer. God
bless him!
Meanwhile the instructors are in the section rooms awaiting the arrival
of their classes. Here and there in the windows of the rooms facing the
area is an instructor gazing upon this class formation that is the same
today as it was years ago, and that awakens in him a flood of memories
of his own cadet days when he too set out to recite to an instructor
who never seemed quite human. As he looks at the cadets forming, he
realizes how distinctly the institution creates its types, and he is
able to pick out certain individuals and say to himself:
“There goes so and so of my class!”
The great charm of West Point is that so many things never change. Some
of the cadets, sons of graduates, are doing exactly as their fathers
did at their age, and again a few cadets are reacting the youth of
their grandfathers.
While the instructor is watching the cadets in the area, the section
marcher reports to the officer of the day all absentees in his section
which he then marches off to the Academic Building. On the sections
come in military formation straight to the classroom door. The halls of
the building resound to the tramping of many feet as the cadets march
along with muffled tread, thanks to O’Sullivan rubber heels that are
fitted to every pair of shoes. When opposite the classroom door the
section marcher commands:
“Section halt! Fall out!”
The cadets hang up their caps in the hall, file into the room, and
stand rigidly at attention behind their desks. The section marcher
enters, closes the door, takes his position in the center of the room
facing the instructor, salutes, and reports:
“Sir, all are present,” or “Cadet Ducrot is absent.”
Mr. Ducrot now makes his acquaintance with Mathematics, the study that
determines more than any other his standing at West Point. From the
day that he commences his studies he feels that he must devote the
greater amount of time to this subject, and with reason. A perusal of
the tables of instruction shows that the greater proportion of time
and weight is allotted to the mathematical studies. The total amount
of time provided for in the course of instruction, including riding
and gymnasium, is 192,900 minutes. If gymnasium and riding are deducted
(11,205 and 10,860 minutes, respectively) there are left 170,835
minutes devoted to Academic work. Of this amount the pure mathematical
subjects are allotted 76,555 minutes, and the non-mathematical
subjects, 94,280 minutes.
These figures represent the time that is actually spent in the
recitation work. To give an accurate idea of the draught of these
subjects upon the cadet’s time, however, we should estimate the amount
of time required for preparation plus the time spent in the section
room. The lessons are so assigned that these preparations take the
average cadet twice the time allotted to the recitation. Thus, in
subjects having an hour and twenty-five minute recitations, the average
cadet is expected to spend two hours and fifty minutes in preparation;
and in subjects having one hour periods, two hours of preparation.
Practical Surveying and Drawing are subjects for which no preparation
is required.
Adding the preparation time to the recitation time we find the total
relative amounts of time as follows:
_Mathematical Subjects._ _Non-Mathematical Subjects._
76,555 94,280
136,940 145,440
-------- --------
213,495 239,720
The time devoted to mathematical subjects is divided among only five
departments, whereas the time divided among non-mathematical subjects
is divided among nine departments. Again, each subject is weighted
and the five mathematical subjects have almost as many units as the
nine non-mathematical subjects. Out of the 2325 units required for
graduation (leaving out of account the 200 allotted to conduct) the
five mathematical departments have 1065 and the nine other departments
have 1260. It is no wonder that Mr. Ducrot wishes to make an auspicious
beginning in a study that is so important to his future career. The
conduct of the recitation that he attends for the first time is about
the same in every department. In Mathematics, which is an exact
science, the system is perhaps a little more rigid than in some of the
non-mathematical departments.
As soon as the cadets have taken their seats the instructor asks:
“Are there any questions on the lesson?”
The cadets are then at liberty to ask for an explanation of any part of
the lesson that they have not been able to comprehend. The officer uses
his judgment as to the amount of time to be thus consumed. Sometimes
he will take up half the recitation period to clear up the obscurities
of the lesson, but if he has one of the lower sections he sometimes
has to be on his guard, for the cadets on the days of hard lessons
astutely ask many questions in order to consume the recitation period.
I know one officer who always outwitted these youthful diplomats when
they attempted to stave off the recitation. He would begin speaking so
rapidly that no one could interrupt:
“Any questions-pages-one-two-three-four-too-late-close-your-books. Mr.
Ducrot-take-the-first-front-board.”
Each cadet is sent to the blackboard with an enunciation, that is,
some phase of the lesson to discuss, or perhaps the instructor may
question a few men. The cadet writes his name on the board in the upper
right-hand corner and proceeds to place upon the slate enough data to
assist him in his recitation. In Mathematics, he solves his problem; in
other subjects the topic that he will develop orally.
As soon as the cadet is ready to recite he takes a pointer in his hand
and faces the instructor and stands at attention until called upon. In
order to test thoroughly the cadet’s reasoning powers the instructor
will sometimes lead him on along a false path, practically making the
recitation himself, saying:
“Is not that so?” and again, “Is that not so?”
To which the lad, if not thoroughly sure of himself, will be betrayed
into replying:
“Yes, sir!” “Yes, sir!”
Finally when the deduction has been rendered ridiculous, the officer
will sharply say:
“That is perfectly absurd.” The cadet receives a lesson that he does
not forget. Once or twice as a cadet I was in this position and I know
the feeling.
After each cadet is heard, he is given other problems with which to
wrestle while the other cadets are reciting. When a principle of
particular importance is to be demonstrated, all of the cadets are
required to face about and give their close attention in order that
they may all benefit from the instruction.
During a recitation a visit may be expected at any time from the
Professor or Head of the Department. Upon his entrance, the cadets all
rise and stand at attention until they are told to proceed with their
work.
The Professor either listens to the cadets recite or conducts the
recitation himself. The recitation continues until the bugler blows
the “Recall” in the area. What a welcome sound is this to those few
who have spent the hour at the board, without reciting, vainly staring
at the blank slate in the hope of drawing some inspiration from its
cold surface! They have been “bugling,” waiting for the bugle to sound
“Recall.” They quickly drop chalk, eraser, pointer, and joyfully file
out of the room exchanging with their co-conspirators sympathetic
smiles, and surreptitiously “rubbing their bellies,” as a sign of
excessive joy.
The instructor at West Point has one great advantage over his
fellow instructors in the colleges. His time is not occupied with
trifling on the part of the students. The cadets are so thoroughly
disciplined by the Tactical Department that their deportment in class
is irreproachable. It is very rare that the recitation is interrupted
to make corrections other than academic. The cadets are held to a high
standard of discipline all the time. In class they are not permitted to
communicate with one another, but they talk freely with the instructor
about points in the lesson.
So much for the actual recitation, the conduct of which seems so
smooth and simple. In the background, however, there is an admirable
organization that strives for a maximum of efficiency in the
instruction.
Every department consists of the Professor or Head of the Department,
an assistant professor, and the requisite number of instructors which
varies with the size of the classes. In the Departments of Mathematics
and Modern Languages, each of which instructs two classes, the
Professor is aided by an associate professor, besides the assistants.
The Professor is in complete control of his entire department. He
prepares the courses of instruction, recommends the adoption of new
text-books, or abolition of those in use, apportions the work among
his instructors, conducts and supervises the conferences of his
instructors, prepares and supervises the examination of the classes
pursuing his course, is responsible for all property belonging to his
department, and is the channel through which must pass all reports and
official communications relating to departmental affairs.
In nearly all of the departments the Professor is able to standardize
the instruction of the cadets by means of conferences with his
instructors. These meetings are informal, partaking more of the nature
of a _conversazione_ in which the Professor outlines his wishes to his
officers, emphasizing the points of the lesson that he wishes brought
out. The conferences also offer to the instructors the opportunity
to make suggestions to the Head of the Department in regard to the
section-room work, pointing out the success or failure of certain
features of the previous lesson.
The conferences are comparatively recent in the scheme of instruction
at the Academy, but they are of great value to the officers. The
result is that the instructor enters the section room with a feeling
of confidence and a knowledge that his methods are approved in advance
by his immediate chief. Moreover, the Professor is able to go from
one section room to another and find that the teaching of the lesson
is progressing uniformly. I have always considered the conference
feature the greatest aid in my work as an instructor, for besides the
profit derived from the Professor’s talk, there is always a constant
interchange of ideas, of impressions, or perhaps a heated argument
between the officers, all of which stimulate the mind and the
imagination, and sharpen the wits. Furthermore, these meetings tend to
produce harmony by drawing the officers together in a common cause. The
introduction of conferences has markedly changed the former attitude
of the instructor toward his work, so that instead of merely hearing
the lesson and marking the cadet, as prevailed too frequently in years
gone by, the officer is inspired to impart a maximum of knowledge and
help to his student. I feel sure that the average of the teaching is
rising year by year, due in large measure to the intelligent conduct of
conferences by the various professors with their officer assistants.
In addition to their work in the preparation and teaching of the daily
lessons, instructors are required to keep the record of the cadets’
marks. For this purpose, pasteboard cards properly ruled for the days
of the week, averages, and proportional parts are provided, one for
each cadet. After the conclusion of the day’s recitation the mark is
entered by the instructor on the cadet’s card, and at the end of the
week, all of the marks are transferred to a weekly report that each
instructor submits for the cadets under his charge. These reports, or
“tenth sheets” as the cadets call them, are publicly posted in glass
frames in the sally-port, where they remain for one week, during
which time the cadets are at liberty to inspect them. In this manner,
a cadet can always tell exactly what progress he is making, whether
deficient or proficient. There is never any attempt at secrecy, but,
on the contrary, every facility is afforded the cadet to ascertain
his standing. The pasteboard cards form the permanent record and are
carefully filed in the department.
The weekly reports are usually posted every Saturday while the
battalions are at inspection. Immediately upon breaking ranks, what
a scramble ensues to get a peep at the result of the week’s work!
Struggling cadets elbow and crowd one another to get close to the
frames, each heart beating in anticipation of the figures that mean
for some success and for others failure. The difference of perhaps one
tenth in the total will sometimes fill the lad with dejection for the
rest of the afternoon.
No one is deprived of the privilege of consulting his marks. Even those
cadets serving punishment, such as confinement to rooms, can obtain
permission to inspect the reports. More often, however, they send some
plebe to copy the marks for them. The publicity of the marking has an
excellent effect upon the cadet, for he knows what each man in his
section accomplished during the week and sees that no partiality is
shown nor injustice done by the instructor.
The scale of marking that is used at West Point was introduced when
Major Sylvanus Thayer was Superintendent in 1837. Upon this scale a
perfect recitation receives a mark of 3.0; good is represented by 2.5;
indifferent by 2.0; bad, 1.5; imperfect, 1.0; and complete failure
0.0. The instructor may mark as close as a tenth giving a 2.8 or a 2.1
or a 1.4 as the recitation merits.
Since the marks determine a cadet’s graduation standing and affect his
whole career as an officer, they naturally are given by him no little
consideration. Sometimes I think that the cadets give entirely too much
thought to attaining a good grade rather than to the thorough mastering
of the subject; that is, they have a tendency to develop the memory
at the expense of the thinking functions. As I have explained before
West Point methods are strictly opposed to such a system, and the
departments discourage verbatim recitations. The marking offers many
difficulties at an institution such as West Point because a difference
of a few hundredths between two cadets’ standing will alter their
choice of a branch or Corps and affect their relative promotion by
years. At colleges and universities this condition does not exist, for
a man’s standing has little connection with his future career.
The cadet is not allowed to select his own course, or follow his own
inclinations in regard to the curriculum. The mental diet is prescribed
and no deviation therefrom is permitted. The three broad fundamentals
governing the Academic course are: first, that every cadet shall take
every subject; second, that before advancement every cadet shall be
proficient in every subject; and third, that every cadet must recite
every day.
As regards the above principles there is, of course a little
qualification in each, sufficient to admit of some flexibility in
application. While no cadet is permitted to elect whether or no he will
take a subject, but is required to take all of them, still, some of
the more advanced cadets go further in the subjects. In nearly every
department the higher men have advanced or special courses.
As for the second principle, a cadet who is deficient in any one
subject is usually dismissed. Occasionally, however, where a man stands
especially well in all of his studies but fails in one, he may be
conditioned by the Academic Board, or in some cases turned back to join
the next class. Among the cadets, he becomes known as a “turnback,” a
name that usually sticks to him, but conveys no reproach or stigma.
Again, the cadet must recite every day. Owing to the small section of
ten or twelve cadets the instructor is ordinarily able to hear every
man, so that the studies must be prepared. There is no such thing
at West Point as a “cut.” Sometimes, due to the lack of time, the
instructor may not hear a few of the cadets, but this is rare. In such
a case the cadet does not get a mark but is given what is colloquially
known as “stay-back,” that is, a blank. The certainty that he must
recite every day and that no failure can be hidden obliges each cadet
to prepare his lesson with great thoroughness. The effect of this
system on moral character is immediate. It inculcates attention to
duty, habits of study and thought, and pride in achievement.
At West Point good intellectual performance is a duty just as much as
guard, parade, or inspection, so that an unsatisfactory recitation
due to the cadet’s negligence not only begets a bad mark, but not
infrequently a punishment. Moreover, since the cadets realize that
their final standing at graduation permits them to choose their branch
of the service, they are keen to do their very best to beat the other
fellows. This spirit of competition is fostered by transfers of cadets
from one section to another either up or down, according to their
weekly marks.
Cadets receive individual instruction in every subject. No man can
therefore hide his lack of preparation because he is always called upon
to develop some phase of the lesson. At the beginning of the term, the
Fourth Classmen or plebes are arranged alphabetically into sections in
which they remain for about six weeks. Then there is a general transfer
or rearrangement of sections according to the marks made during this
period. The top man in each section is the section marcher. Thereafter
cadets rise and fall in the sections, either weekly or monthly as the
Professor wishes. The transfers from one section to another are a great
stimulant to the cadet. He gets the reward for his labor. Sometimes,
however, in spite of determined efforts, some cadets lose sections, due
perhaps to a lack of preparation prior to entrance; others go down
through laziness or negligence.
The cadets that land in the last section are known as “The Goats” (in
olden days, “The Immortals”), usually a carefree lot who never worry
until the examinations roll around. They are a great contrast to the
first section men who “bone tenths” with Prussian thrift. But whether
“Goats” or first section men each one receives individual instruction.
Nor are the cadets who are low in their studies deprived of extra
instruction. When Major-General Thomas H. Barry was Superintendent,
he introduced a system permitting cadets to receive, during their
recreation hours, extra instruction upon any back lesson. The cadets
can therefore overcome the obstacles that prevent them from going
forward in any particular study. Due to this system, many a cadet has
been saved who otherwise would have been “found,” simply because he was
slow and had not had time to digest his lesson.
It is in the lower sections chiefly that humorous incidents occur to
lighten the tension of the atmosphere. As an instructor in French, I
had many a chuckle over the struggles of some of the Goats to master
the tongue of _la douce France_. On one occasion a cadet was attempting
to translate a passage in the reader. His efforts were futile. Few of
the words meant anything to him. All at once he came to the proper name
“Léopold, Duc d’Autriche.” With a triumphant gleam at me who had been
humiliating him with embarrassing questions, he proudly translated the
phrase: “The leopard, the duck, and the ostrich.”
On another occasion there was in the section a foreign cadet from
Venezuela whose acquaintance with English was chiefly limited to swear
words. While translating a passage in French in the presence of the
Professor, he came across the sentence: _Mon Dieu, j’ai laissé tomber
le vase._ Immediately he began:
“My God----”
“Oh no, Mr. Honduras,” gently interposed the Professor.
“Oh Hell,” he began once more.
“Dear no, Mr. Honduras, not so strong!” exclaimed the thoroughly
shocked Professor. But Honduras understanding (maliciously I thought)
that a stronger translation was wanted, ventured once more:
“----! ----! ----!”
Had Honduras been a little American boy, I am sure that the Professor
would have made him wash out his mouth with soap.
The success of the West Point system is largely due to several unique
reasons. In the first place the authorities control the time of the
cadets so completely that it can be utilized to the greatest advantage.
Again, West Point’s remoteness from any large city and the strict
regulations that govern the privileges of the cadet remove the many
temptations that consume the college man’s time. To the same extent,
the mind of the cadet is not diverted. Every effort is made to get the
maximum mental results from the cadet’s labor. He has regular hours of
study, plenty of exercise, a judicious amount of recreation, and good
wholesome food. In addition, the cadet is in a studious atmosphere. No
opportunity is lost to impress upon him correct habits of study.
I dare say that at no other institution of learning is there such
serious preparation of the lessons. The cadet’s academic day contains
but half an hour of leisure from 6:00 A.M. to 10:00 A.M. except during
the extreme cold weather when drills are suspended the cadets have
two hours in the afternoon. All during the day therefore when not at
recitations, riding, or gymnasium, the cadets are studying, and the
long study period is from 7:00 to 9:30 P.M. Although prohibited by
Regulations, many men study after taps, especially those low in the
class. To conceal the light they hang a leg of their trousers over the
electric light, lowering the cord until it almost touches the table.
Just a little circle of light shines upon the book, and not enough to
be detected from without.
West Point is not indifferent to the performance of its students. It
cannot afford to be less exacting, but it has a powerful leverage over
other institutions for it dangles before the cadet’s view the prize of
a commission in the Regular Army, a career in an honorable profession.
The course of instruction at the Military Academy develops in the
cadet certain traits of character that are invaluable to him in a
profession where, as an officer, he is constantly being called upon
to meet all sorts of contingencies, to exercise his judgment, and to
make decisions. His studies and duties broaden his mind, make him
self-reliant, and teach him self-control. It is astounding to see
the results obtained by the system. As a proof of the intellectual
product of the Academy, I shall quote the following table, giving the
occupations of the graduates who have gone into civil life where they
have measured their strength with the graduates of other institutions
of learning:
President of the United States 1
President of the Confederate States 1
Presidential candidates 3
Vice-Presidential candidates 2
Members of the Cabinet 4
Ambassador 1
Ministers from the United States to foreign courts 14
Chargés d’affaires to foreign courts 2
United States consuls-general and consuls 12
Members of the U. S. Senate and House of Representatives 24
United States civil officers of various kinds 171
Presidential electors 8
Governors of States and Territories 16
Bishop 1
Lieutenant-governors of States 2
Judges 14
Members of State Legislatures 77
Presiding officers of State Senates and Houses of Representatives 8
Members of conventions to form state constitutions 13
State officers of various grades 81
Adjutants, inspectors, and quartermasters-general of States and
Territories 29
Officers of State militia 158
Mayors of cities 17
City officers 57
Presidents of universities and colleges 46
Principals of schools and academies 32
Regents and chancellors of educational institutions 14
Professors and teachers 136
Superintendent of Coast Survey 1
Surveyors-general of States and Territories 11
Chief engineers of States 14
Presidents of railroads and other corporations 87
Chief engineers of railroads and other public works 63
Superintendents of railroads and other public works 62
Treasurers of railroads and other corporations 24
Civil engineers 228
Electrical engineers 5
Attorneys and counsellors at Law 200
Superior general of clerical order 1
Clergymen 20
Physicians 14
Merchants 122
Manufacturers 77
Artists 3
Architects 7
Farmers and planters 230
Bankers 18
Bank presidents 8
Bank officers 23
Editors 30
Authors 179
-----
Total 2371
The above list should be convincing that if methods of training which
are primarily intended to develop officers can produce such signal and
distinguished successes in every walk of civil life, no fault can be
found with their soundness.
The Academic year is divided into two terms that end in the fall
and the spring. A month prior to the conclusion of each term, each
Department conducts a general review of the subjects studied that
semester. Cadets who make a proficient average upon this review, which
is generally written, are exempt from the examinations. These reviews
are very thorough and searching. The questions are framed to test the
cadet’s real knowledge of the subject. In order to avoid all personal
element entering into the marks, the papers are graded by all of the
instructors, each marking one question. In this manner the marks are
uniform and fair as possible, and no one instructor has any great
influence in assigning to a man his class standing.
Following the reviews come the examinations for those who failed
upon the review. These tests are also quite rigid, and in order to
be declared proficient a man must make two thirds of the mark, .66
per cent. The examination papers are likewise marked by all of the
instructors and by the Professor. In the event that a cadet fails he
is reported to the Academic Board for their action. In general, if
deficient in any one subject, the cadet is dismissed.
I feel how weak are any words that I might use to attempt to describe
the despair into which a discharged cadet is plunged. For days he lives
in an excruciating suspense awaiting the result of the examinations.
The thought of wasted opportunity, the regret for lack of early
preparation perhaps, and worse than all, the sense of failure torment
him. It is bitter to renounce the camaraderie and friendship of his
fellows and to see himself involuntarily separated from surroundings
that he has come to love. At last the dread news comes. The Adjutant
rises from his seat in the Mess Hall and calls the Battalion to
attention. Immediately a deathlike stillness pervades the cadet body.
The gravity and dignity of the Adjutant’s demeanor unconsciously
inform the Corps that distressing news is about to be communicated.
Slowly and distinctly the names are read out, one by one, and as they
fall upon the straining ears of the cadets, they sound like so many
death sentences for the unfortunate lads who are “found.” A gloom of
sorrow settles over the Corps and the companies file out of the hall
in sympathetic silence. But the reality must be faced. Suitcases and
trunks are packed, accounts are quickly settled, affectionate and
emotional good-byes are said, and sadly the discharged cadets drop out
of the ranks of the Corps. The long gray line closes up and once again
marches forward to do battle with the Academic obstacles that block the
road to graduation.