At this time in the battalion of midshipmen there were something over
three hundred young men, of whom about one hundred were fourth classmen
or “plebes.” Some years were yet to elapse before the battalion was
enlarged into a brigade of eight hundred.
The day the upper classmen returned from leave was one of great
activity. They had to unpack and arrange their rooms, turn in their
citizen’s clothes, and naturally there was much hand-shaking and many
enthusiastic greetings. Lists had been posted on the bulletin-boards
containing the new battalion organization, and each midshipman
found his own name and after it the number of his room and of his
seat in the mess hall, and other necessary information. Other lists
were posted, dividing each class into sections of from eight to
twelve men for recitations, and on these lists were to be found the
lessons prescribed for the next day. By these means there was no
confusion whatever. Everything had been thought out beforehand and all
necessary information of one kind and another was found posted on the
bulletin-boards.
Ralph Osborn found himself assigned to the second division, the
commander of which was Cadet Lieutenant Baldwin. He and Creelton were
quartered in room No. 131. The senior midshipman in command of the
battalion was Cadet Lieutenant-Commander Holman. His rank was denoted
by four narrow gold stripes on his sleeve. The cadet lieutenants
commanding the divisions wore three stripes. Lower in rank were “two
stripers” and “one stripers,” and below them were the “cadet petty
officers,” or “buzzards,” as they were termed from their wearing on
their sleeves a gold embroidered American eagle.
The cadet officers and petty officers were all of the first class. They
had prescribed daily duties, and under the general direction of the
commandant of midshipmen were in military control of the battalion.
Besides these there were always on duty an officer-in-charge who was
a lieutenant, and a number of midshipmen temporarily detailed as
“officers of the day,” and “midshipman in charge of floor.” These
midshipmen were of the first and second classes and were changed daily,
all coming on in their regular turns.
There were three lieutenants detailed as “officer-in-charge.” Each of
these officers came on duty once in three days for twenty-four hours,
during which time he messed with the midshipmen and slept in the same
building where they were quartered. He was the mouthpiece of the
commandant and in addition carried on the routine and issued orders to
the cadet officers, and had certain inspections to make. His immediate
assistants were those midshipmen who were on the temporary detail.
At formations the new cadet officers took charge with the air and
manner of veterans. Their orders rang out sharp and clear. At supper
formation of the first day of their return Ralph Osborn found himself
in the middle of the rear rank of the second division. Soon there
was a bugle call, and then the cadet first petty officer, standing
fronting the division, read the roll of the midshipmen of his company.
“Here,” answered Ralph, when he heard “Osborn” called out. Then Cadet
Lieutenant Baldwin took charge. “Second company right dress! Back in
the center, dress up on the left. Up a little extreme left. Steady!
Front!”
Then the cadet adjutant, a two striper, read out several orders, and
soon after, the cadet lieutenant-commander gave the order: “Battalion
fours right! March!” The battalion moved like clockwork into the mess
hall and when it was halted Ralph found himself at the table seat which
had previously been assigned to him.
The study hours were called at half-past seven and all midshipmen were
required to remain in their rooms until half-past nine. Then they were
free until ten o’clock, when the midshipmen had to be in their beds.
Ralph and Creelton took up their books with great interest.
“These lessons are too long!” exclaimed Ralph. “Great Cæsar’s ghost,
Creel, we’ll never have time enough to get these lessons; why look
here, the algebra lesson is thirteen pages, the rhetoric is fifteen,
and just look what we have to do in French! I’ll bilge sure.”[3]
“They are long, Os,” replied Creelton, “but they’re easy. I’ve boned[4]
all this stuff in college and can speak French. French is always hard
at first, but I’ll help you.”
“Now that’s good of you, Creel; you’ll do me lots of good.”
Their attention was now attracted by a rap on the door, and then
immediately opened. A first classman wearing white gloves now entered.
Ralph and Creelton jumped up, and stood at attention. The first
classman looked at them and then growled, “Work hard or you’ll bilge,”
and then left.
“What’s that for, I wonder?” inquired Ralph.
“Oh, I guess that’s the midshipman in charge, making his inspection to
see if we’re here.”
Ralph and Creelton now commenced to study. Ralph rather skimmed through
his algebra. He had always done well in mathematics at school and
expected to do the same at the Naval Academy. Besides he had studied
algebra as far as quadratics. So he devoted himself to rhetoric which
was new and to French which was entirely foreign.
At about nine o’clock there came another rap on the door, and
immediately Lieutenant Wilson entered. “Good-evening, gentlemen,” he
said, glanced about the room and then withdrew.
At five minutes before ten a bugle call was heard, and both Ralph
and Creelton got into their beds. Shortly after ten Cadet Lieutenant
Baldwin entered their room, saw they were both turned in, and left.
The next morning, they were turned out by reveille and gun-fire at six
o’clock, and soon after a cadet officer inspected the room to see that
they were up and that their beds were turned back. Breakfast formation
was held half an hour later.
“Open ranks,” ordered the four striper. A moment later he reported to
the officer-in-charge: “Sir, the battalion is ready for inspection.”
Lieutenant Wilson walked in front of the ranks, scanning each
midshipman narrowly. Pausing in front of Creelton he said: “Clothes
not properly brushed. Report him.” In front of Ralph he said: “Hair
not properly cut. Shoes not polished. Report him.” Their names were
taken and were read out the next morning before the battalion on the
“Delinquency Conduct Report.”
Ralph was given three demerits for “shoes not polished.” Creelton
received three for his offense. “Thunder,” grumbled Ralph. “If I
receive demerits like this I’ll never get a Saturday liberty. Fourth
classmen are only allowed twenty-one demerits a month.”
“Oh, we’ll be more careful,” returned Creelton lightly.
It must be admitted that in the first days Ralph did miserably in
his recitations. His mark in algebra was barely satisfactory, and in
rhetoric he was most unfortunately sent to the blackboard to write on a
subject in the last part of the prescribed lesson, something he had not
even read over. In French all of the midshipmen of his section except
himself had previously had some instruction, as it happened, and poor
Ralph by comparison was at a great disadvantage. The French instructor
had him repeat after him some simple French words and sounds and was
indignant at his inability to do so.
“Ah, Meestair Osborng, eet ees so eazie. Ven feerst I learn ze Eenglis,
vairy feerst day, I haf eegsatlie ze vairy zame prononciacion zat I
haf now. I feair zat you do not haf ze eentelejence; I nevair haf no
trouble in prononcing ze Eenglis, not from ze feerst. Vat you must do,
Meestair Osborng, ees to remember how eazie eet vas for me to pronounce
ze Eenglis; you hear how correct I am? Vell, you must try to do ze
zaime vis ze Français.”
Poor Ralph stood mute. There was nothing he could say under the
circumstances.
There were three instruction periods a day; each was of two hours’
duration, one of which was spent in the section room reciting; the
other the midshipman spent as a study hour in his own room.
Ralph was much impressed by the number of inspections that were made.
Each hour in the day an inspecting officer, one of the midshipmen on
special duty, entered his room to see that he was there; or if not
there, to inquire into the cause of his absence. Ralph felt, as never
before, he was under the iron hand of discipline, where he was under
constant surveillance and had to account for himself and his actions
for every moment of the day. Studies finished at four o’clock and then
drill commenced and lasted until half-past five and sometimes later.
At the end of the drill Ralph was always tired, but a rest, a bath,
and supper proved very refreshing, and during the evenings he always
studied with great determination.
The days rapidly passed and were full of interest to Ralph, but he was
in a much distressed state of mind about his studies. He continued to
do poorly in rhetoric, and for his French his instructor exhibited
impatient contempt. In mathematics Ralph was satisfactory, but not much
more so. He felt he could not spare much time to prepare his lessons
in this subject because he was so low in the other two. He felt very
grateful to his roommate for the earnest efforts the latter took to
help him in French. Creelton gave up much of his leisure time for this
purpose, and but for him Ralph would have been badly unsatisfactory
the first month in that subject. As it was, his first month’s mark
in French was but 2.53, only three-hundredths above satisfactory. In
rhetoric Ralph had 2.68, and in algebra 2.73, for the first month’s
average.
When these marks were published Ralph was a very crestfallen young man.
In his secret thoughts he had hoped to stand number one in his class;
he always had done so in Toledo, but his rank for the first month
was far down. It was Ralph’s nature to be thorough in what he did,
and as a result he never was able to get completely over the lesson
before starting for recitation; and he was remarkably unfortunate in
frequently being called upon to recite on a part of the lesson he had
not studied.
Creelton was doing splendidly; for the first month he had over 3.50 in
each subject and stood about number three in class rank; he was devoted
to Ralph; there was never a time but what he willingly put away his own
work to help Ralph in his French.
In November Ralph did somewhat better in his studies and this
encouraged him. Himski was apparently standing number one, and to the
surprise of all, the irrepressible, rollicking Bollup was easily number
two. Taylor, Streeter, and Warren were also of this group, and these
seven young men were always to be found together and were known to the
rest of the class as “Himski’s Bunch.”
One day late in November, Bollup came to Ralph’s room, his face flushed
with anger. “There’s some thief in this building,” he indignantly
cried. “Somebody has pinched my gold watch.”
“By George, that’s too bad, Bollup!” exclaimed Ralph. “That was a fine
watch you had; are you certain it was stolen? Couldn’t it be misplaced?”
“Of course I’m certain! I left it in the top shelf of my wardrobe when
I went to drill to-day; I always do that; and as soon as I came back
from drill I went to get it and it wasn’t there.”
“Who could have done it?” asked Creelton.
“I wish I knew; he wouldn’t stay long at this place. Fellows, there’s a
thief in this school wearing a midshipman’s uniform. I’m certain of it.”
“Impossible!” exclaimed Creelton. “It must have been one of the colored
building men.”
“Not on your life. The watch was stolen between four and six o’clock
to-day and in those hours there wasn’t a corridor boy in the building.”
“By George, that’s an awful thing to say, Bollup; I hope it isn’t so.”
“Well, it is, mark me. And it was the same thief who stole twenty
dollars from me on the cruise. I’m going to try to find out if anybody
was seen going to my room when I was out.”
“I stopped in your room on my way to drill to-day thinking to pick you
up, but you had gone,” remarked Ralph, quietly.
“Oh, that’s all right, Os. But I’d like to catch the thief, that’s all.
And he’ll be found out, mark my words,” and Bollup left.
“This is awful, Os,” said Creelton. “I hope Bollup is mistaken.”
“I hope so, but he seems certain.”
Bollup went about, telling of his loss, and the matter was much talked
of by the midshipmen. The idea that there might be a thief among them
produced a most uncomfortable feeling.
A couple of days later, at about eleven o’clock in the morning, a
letter and a small box were delivered to Ralph. Opening the letter he
was delighted to see it was from his Uncle George. It was dated from
New York City, and said:
“DEAR NEPHEW RALPH:--
“I am sending you a watch and chain for a Christmas present. I am
sending it ahead of time as I am leaving the country to-morrow. Will
let you have my address later. I expect to return in seven or eight
months. Remember me to your father when you write to him.
“Your affectionate uncle,
“GEORGE H. OSBORN.”
“Oh,” Ralph exclaimed, “just listen to this, Creel,” and he read him
the letter. “Now let’s open the box.” He did so, and in it found a
handsome gold watch with a light gold chain attached to it. Ralph
was wild with delight. He had always wanted a watch and he was
enthusiastically happy to have such a beautiful one. “And just think,
Creel,” he said, “I can’t even thank my uncle; I don’t know where a
letter would reach him.”
“Indeed,” remarked Creelton, much interested; “how’s that, Os?”
“Well, you see none of us know anything about him; he left home twenty
years ago, and only occasionally writes us a letter. Sometimes he has
written us from New York and sometimes from London and other places,
but we don’t know what business he is in and he seldom tells us where
to address him. Now look at this letter. Uncle George doesn’t even know
that my father is dead.”
Ralph put his uncle’s letter in his table drawer and again both
youths delightedly examined and handled the watch. In the back it was
inscribed:
“To Ralph Osborn, from his uncle, George H. Osborn.”
The watch interfered with his studies for the rest of that morning.
Before going to drill, as he changed into working clothes, he carefully
placed his beloved treasure on a shelf in the wardrobe under some
towels. “I hope the thief won’t find it,” he remarked to Creelton. “I’m
almost afraid to let it be known that I have it.”
Creelton left and Ralph followed a few minutes later.
Just after drill, while Ralph was shifting from his working clothes to
his service uniform, Bollup and Himski came into his room.
“Hello!” cried Ralph. “Say, fellows, I’ve something to show you; my
Uncle George has sent me a watch. Here it is.”
Ralph went to his wardrobe, put his hand on the shelf and took out the
watch and chain.
“Isn’t it a beau----” Ralph started to say when a look of blank
amazement spread over his face.
“Why, why,” he feebly said, “this isn’t my watch, Bollup, why,
why--it’s yours--why, I don’t understand this; why, Bollup, my uncle
sent me a watch. I received it at eleven o’clock this morning; at four
o’clock, just before I went to drill, I put it in my wardrobe--this is
your watch, Bollup.”
“I should say it was, Osborn; it’s been mine for a couple of years. Now
look here, Osborn, there’s a thief in this Academy, and it’s up to you
to explain how you got this watch.” And Bollup looked keenly at Ralph.
“Bollup, you know as much as I do as to how I came in possession of
your watch.”
“Well, I’d like to know something more about the story of the watch
sent you by your uncle.”
“I most certainly shall insist upon everybody knowing about that,” said
Ralph. “The watch came by registered mail this morning, and with it a
letter from my Uncle George telling me he was sending it to me.”
“Of course you haven’t torn up the letter?” questioned Bollup in a
sneering tone.
“I have not. The letter is in my table drawer; I’ll show it to you.”
And Ralph drew open the drawer.
The letter was nowhere to be found.
Bollup turned shortly on his heel, and without another word left the
room, followed by Himski.
FOOTNOTES:
[3] “To bilge,” midshipman parlance for being dropped for failure in
studies, or violation of regulations.
[4] “To bone” is to study.