Victor Blue, who in his uniform made the fearless expedition ashore at
Santiago, and actually saw for the first time the Spanish fleet within
the harbor, is the kind of a man who does not have very much to say for
himself, which is often a sign that a person is to be found ready when
wanted. He was a member of the class of ’87, in which his work was fair,
but not remarkable in any way. He lived quietly, receiving his quota
of good and bad marks, but having no special distinction, even in his
offences against the oracles of Stribling Row.
He did not care much for “fems” (girls, in the vernacular), but towards
his first class-year began to “take notice.” He played a guard on the
“Hustlers,” the scrub football team which struggles with the “Academy”
eleven on practice-days, but never made the “Team.” He had plenty of grit,
but was too light for the centre and not active enough for the ends. Blue
is a fair specimen of the type of men who without ostentation have made
our new navy what it is. Many men envy him, but no man begrudges him his
numbers recently awarded for “extraordinary heroism.”