FURLOUGH.
OF all privileges or sources of pleasure which tend
to remove the monotony of military life, there are
none to which the stripling soldier looks forward
with more delight than furlough. Indeed it is hard
to say which is the stronger emotion that we
experience when we first receive information of our
appointment to a cadetship, or that which comes upon
us when we are apprised that a furlough has been
granted us. Possibly the latter is the stronger
feeling. It is so with some, with those, at least,
who received the former announcement with indifference,
as many do, accepting it solely to please a mother, or
father, or other friend or relative. With whatever
feeling, or for whatever reason the appointment may
have been accepted, it is certain that all are equally
anxious to take advantage of their furlough when the
time comes. This is made evident in a multitude of ways.
A furlough is granted to those only who have been
present at two annual examinations at least, and by
and with the consent of a parent or guardian if a
minor.
Immediately after January next preceding their
second annual examination, the furloughmen, as
they are called, have class meetings, or rather
furlough meetings, to celebrate the "good time
coming." They hold them almost weekly, and they
are devoted to music, jesting, story-telling, and
to general jollification. It can be well imagined
with what joy a cadet looks forward to his furlough.
It is the only interruption in the monotony of his
Academy life, and it is to him for that very reason
extremely important. During all this time, and even
long before January, the furloughmen are accustomed
to record the state of affairs respecting their
furlough by covering every available substance that
will bear a pencil or chalk mark with numerous
inscriptions, giving the observer some such information
as this: "100 days to furlough," "75 days to furlough,"
"only two months before furlough," and thus even to the
day before they actually leave.
The crowning moment of all is the moment when the order
granting furloughs is published.
I am sure my happiest moment at West Point, save when I
grasped my "sheepskin" for the first time, was when I
heard my name read in the list. It was a most joyous
announcement. To get away from West Point, to get out
among friends who were not ashamed nor afraid to be
friends, could not be other than gratifying. It was
almost like beginning a new life, a new career, and as
I looked back from the deck of the little ferryboat my
feelings were far different from what they were two
years before.
My furlough was something more than an interruption of
my ordinary mode of life for the two years previous. It
was a complete change from a life of isolation to one
precisely opposite. And of course I enjoyed it the more
on that account.
The granting of furloughs is entirely discretionary
with the Superintendent. It may be denied altogether,
but usually is not, except as punishment for some grave
offence.
It is customary to detain for one, two, three, or even
more days those who have demerits exceeding a given
number for a given time. The length of their leave is
therefore shortened by just so many days.
There are a number of customs observed by the cadets
which I shall describe here.
To disregard these customs is to show--at least it is so
construed--a want of pride. To say that this or that "is
customary," is quite sufficient to warrant its conception
and execution. Among these customs the following may be
mentioned:
To begin with the fourth class. Immediately after their
first semi-annual examination the class adopts a class
crest or motto, which appears on all their stationery,
and often on many other things. To have class stationary
is a custom that is never overlooked. Each class chooses
its own design, which usually bears the year in which
the class will graduate.
Class stationary is used throughout the period of one's
cadetship.
In the early spring, the first, second, and third classes
elect hop managers, each class choosing a given number.
This is preparatory to the hop given by the second to
the graduating class as a farewell token. This custom is
rigorously kept up.
Next to these are customs peculiar to the first class.
They are never infringed upon by other classes, nor
disregarded even by the first class.
First, prior to graduation it is an invariable custom
of the graduating class to adopt and procure, each of
them, a class ring. This usually bears the year of
graduation, the letters U. S. M. A., or some other
military character.
This ring is the signet that binds the class to their
Alma Mater, and to each other. It is to be in after
years the souvenir that is to recall one's cadet life,
and indeed every thing connected with a happy and yet
dreary part of one's career.
The class album also is intended for the same
purpose. It contains the "smiling shadows" of
classmates, comrades, and scenes perhaps never
more to be visited or seen after parting at
graduation. Oh! what a feeling of sadness, of
weariness of life even, must come upon him who
in after years opens his album upon those handsome
young faces, and there silently compares their then
lives with what succeeding years have revealed! Who
does not, would not grieve to recall the sad tidings
that have come anon and filled one's heart and being
with portentous gloom? This, perhaps a chum, an
especial favorite, or at any rate a classmate, has
fallen under a rude savage warfare while battling
for humanity, without the advantages or the glory
of civilized war, but simply with the consciousness
of duty properly done. That one, perchance, has fallen
bravely, dutifully, without a murmur of regret, and
this one, alas! where is he? Has he, too, perished,
or does he yet remember our gladsome frolics at our
beloved Alma Mater. My mind shudders, shrinks from
the sweet and yet sad anticipations of the years I
have not seen and may perhaps never see. But there
is a sweetness, a fondness that makes me linger
longingly upon the thought of those unborn days.