Wake Forest University - Howler Yearbook (Winston Salem, NC)

Page 17 text:

■ ' fWi THE SEARCH IS ON— WANTED: CRIP COURSES, EASY PROFESSORS, NO SATURDAY CLASSES. CRAMPED HANDS and tired brains result from filling ' WONDER WHOSE is the ugliest After hodgepodge in countless cards, forms, and blanks required of each of registration, Jimmy Byrne looks at birdie but re- student in the chaos of registration — was it worth it fuses to smile for ID photo — result: Rogues Gallery.

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WAIT HALL braces for deluge of mass registration. Here students dubiously receive last semester ' s record, pay bursar, and reluctantly leave for ordeal in gym. LINE FORMS TO THE REAR! Many try to shove through in order to finish the first round of registra- tion and head toward the three-ring circus in the gym. Registration: Forms and Blanks, iVIoney, Forms and BJanlts, Forms and Blanks— Bed! . hnc- tiirnis m trcmt ot Wait Hall — no, it isn ' t a uorlj prcniR-r nr an army recruiting office, just registration at W ' .ikc 1 iircst College. Seniors are given the privilege of getting in line first, but underclassmen go over a little early in hopes ot slippin ' through. The suspense of wondering if you ' ll get a slip to appear before the Faculty ( ' ommittec nearly drives some crazy. If you get through the ordeal at Wait Hall, you then head toward the gym, mumbling ti ourself about that overcut, or what subjects tc take, or which ones will take you! At the gym, you first have a conference with your faculty adviser. You spend twenty minutes telling him (without actually coming our and saying so) that you don ' t want to take any more courses than absolutely necessary. Ne. t you start on a scavenger hunt for the crip courses. Three cokes and two hours later you are still searching. Well, there ' s bound to be an eas ' professor around here somewhere and one who ' s been known to give a cut. You stand in a sectioner ' s line tor thirty m inutes, and by the time you arrive face to face with him, you have to stammer and stutter to get across what you ' re there for. Naturally, the hour that you wanted has just fieen filled, so you start rearranging your entire schedule, . fter changing it not more than si. times and pulling every possible string to keep from having Saturday classes, du think the worst of registration is over. Oh, i u dreamer ' N ' liu ' ve just gotten a chapel seat on the first row (worst thing about a front row chapel seat is that you can ' t read the (Ki B on Monday). Then you try to con- vince the registrar that it ' s essential that you take 18 hours. If and that ' s a big word -if n ' ou can convince him that iiu have to carry rliar man ' hours, you then head on. If not, ou begin the entire registration process all over again in order to take only 17 hours. Someone shoves you a stack of forms, blanks, and cards, then instructs you to till them out on both sides. Sounds simple, doesn ' t it? An iiour later, after writing your name over and over, at which time Mill could be signing your life away and never know it, y Hi must pause to rest your aching, ink-stained hand. The fifteenth card is filled; it becomes a matter of habit — ou dream your name and address all that night. Back to the cards - ' Ou are still answering (|uesfions about yourself i u never thuught of hefire, and iiu tell top military secrets about ' oiir tamiK ' . . t station ' ou are given a smeary ball point pen and told to bear down. You w rite a card four times; the boy at .station 4 tells you to do it again. Oh, well! To complete this year ' s registration, at the e nd of a two or three hour ordeal, you are passed through a hue smiling because everyone else is — then you realize you liist had oiir 11) picture taken. That day didn ' t last but a tew centuries, ou are finally told to remove yourself from the gym -you have finished. Who are they kidding? Now ou hunt old textbooks, rearrange lunch hours, search for new classrooms -and then forget to go to them. But, after all. It only comes once every four months, and now you are officially a Wake Forest student for one more .semester.

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mmmm Signs of the Times— Army Installs ROTC Unit at Wake Forest; Colonel Terrell in Command LT. COLONEL Joseph H. Terrell, Jr., professor of military science and tac- tics, commands Wake Forest ROTC unit. I ' d sure like to know just what the army calls ' incknunt weather. ' It ' s snowing as thick as hcminy out there, and we still gotta ' drill. Hey, Mac, can you guess what that guy with all those .stripes on his shoulder just told me ' He savs 1 gotta ' put my collar down. What ' s a collar tor if it ain ' t for davs like this- Steadx there. Joe; here comes all the hrass for that command conference the ' always have. Talk like that might hurt their sensitive ears. Ya ' know, I ' m not so sure It ' s gonna ' he worth two ears ot drill to get to wear a pie plate like that. . . . Let ' s go, men, barks an officer. Outside and in vour company areas. Drill as usual today. .■ visitor to Wake Forest might have been surprised at the above conversation — surely this wasn ' t what he ex- pected f f Baptist Hollow . But rhe peaceful little school of the past had changed; things were different now. Ihcre was a war in Korea — a bitter, full-scale war. Hundreds ot men had left college to volunteer, more were preparing to go. In the spring of 195 I, Dr. Harold W. Tribblc, realizing the necessity of keeping qualified men in college, began plans for the establishment of a unit of the Reserved Of- ficers Training Corps at Wake Forest. The unit, a branch of the U. S. Army Chemical Corps Reserve, began operations in September of 1951. PFC ' s learned to sew their stripes on right-sidc-up; privates realized that frat pins and 1 Like Ike badges couldn ' t be worn on uniforms; SARgeants got that tough-as-nails quality; officers n.arched their commands through mud holes — and then reported them for dirty shoes. But in spite of demerits, heavy rifles, and the phenomenon of Tuesdas ailments, the Corps rapidly developed into a snappv. cflicicnf, and colorful unit. 14 FUTURE OFFICERS LINE UP FOR UNIFORMS. GRID STARS SHOW ENTHUSIASM FOR ROTC.