US Naval Training School at Harvard University - All Hands Yearbook (Cambridge, MA)

Page 28 text:

need lor discipline and respect lor military ceremony. When, at colors, the chimes ol local church bells synchronized with the notes ol the Star Spangled Banner and the national ensign was brol4enH over the elms in the Yard, the real end to our daily means and the profound importance of our every eltort was impressively returned to mind. What at First was a sell-conscious salute turned into the subconscious action which means courtesy and mutual respect lor the uniform we have been taught AL 0 it o 7 9 gg to wear. ln daily formations we learned that 'ithe rules for military etiquette are founded on custom and tradition and that their strict observance is an important factor in discipline. From Commander Macgowanis welcoming address to our class in Sanders Theater to the admonitions of the Battalion Commanders we had respect, precision, gentlemanliness, honesty and pride in purpose drilled into us, both by advice and example. This has been an experience of privilege. Qther matters also were drilled into us thanlcs to the patience ol those young olrticers ol the staFl who warned their pupils against getting their heads caught in the proverbial Hbightf' What explaining it toolc on their parts to illumi- Q6

Page 27 text:

extend the principles ot this training and defend and preserve those insti- tutions ot democratic America ot which the Universities are so great a part. John Ruskin once wrote, lt is well to have not only what men have thought and felt, but what their hands have handled, their strength wrought and their eyes beheld, all the days ot their lite. l-le suggested sensations which certainly have been ours during the days ol our lite at Harvard Naval Training School. What student otlicer can say he felt no emotion when First he held in his hand the trim white cap which he now wears so easily on his head, correctly squared away'?H ls there any one of us, ex- cepting those untortunates who had known the old Army manual of arms, who did not feel that he had handled something when he lugged a Winchester up from the musty cellars ot Memorial l-lallr? Where is the man who overlooked the grade his strength had wrought on the chinning bars or padded mats ot the Indoor Athletic Building? ls not the picture of the sharp steeple of the l-larvard Chapel, poking at a New England Fog, a sight which you have Hbeheldn . . . and will remember? This leads to reminiscence ot the sort already mentioned here and carries us back to the First ol the days in Cambridge when a hot September sun poured on a blue serge queue waiting before number seventeen Quincy Street to sign anything and everything in quintuplicatel Qurs not to question why, ours but to stand and Fryli' From the shock ol Hdrawingu bed linen at a Naval Store in an eighteenth century New England Chapel to the somewhat relieving sound of tatoo and taps, that day was one ol crowded paper-work, endless standing in line and very real automatic friendships. With the hideous bells of a second morning, Cthe Hhowlersn of the good ship l-larvardD, we found Hhit the deck was more than the name of a Broadway show and staggering from our 'ihammocksn we received presentation copies of that unique iournal ol the l-larvard Naval Training School, TI-IE SCUTTLE- BUTT. Somehow Tl-IE SCUTTLEBUTT lying on a barren desk-top in the halt light ot a Massachusetts dawn managed to replace the home town daily . . . and the cry Get out of the head soon superseded the more modulated announcement, 'Breakfast is readyf, The reveille ol that premier morning, together with our copies of the fountain ot intormationn quickly became a part of our earliest daily consciousness. -lhat this consciousness might not lapse, the -lraining School curriculum was tltoughttully arranged to include, each day, twenty minutes ol supervised calisthenics to keep us on our toes. Certainly not one of us Failed to tingle with anticipation at the dulcet voices ol the Chiefs, suggesting that we two-block our trousers, do away entirely with our stomachs and violently wave at each other in the unified execution ol four hundred and Fifty sky touchersln ' Every seemingly arbitrary duty had its humorous side and, oppositely, each had a deeper import. Many of us were feeling for the First time the real 25

Page 29 text:

nate us regarding the elusive message contained in two vertical pulsating red lights or to sell us on the dubious truth that a prolonged blast is shorter than a long blast, in spite of logic. That we have not bilged at l'larvard Naval Training School is proof of their persistence. bias A And, since we spealc of things being drilled into us, there is the affair of drill itself which, by the very virtue of the time it toolc from our daily lives, became a featured part of the transformation experience. All drummers and buglers report to the Middle Entrance of lhayern was an announcement which filled us vvith transport, for vve were off and away across the Charles River bridge and over the cinders into Soldiers, Field in no time, with never a student officer uslcylarlcingn in ranks and never a glance toward the Cam- bridge coquettes. Certainly Ensign Moorefs fantastic accomplishment of getting thirty men to goose-step on alternate counts vvhile entangling them- selves in a spiral line-labyrinth, Ccarrying guns at left shoulder arms the whileb was, considered by most of us the penultimate in military performance. And when the spiral was untangled in proper order it was felt that perfect drill Nirvana had been reached. Finally, when vve ourselves took over a platoon for drill We KNEW this to be true. 27