University of Wyoming - WYO Yearbook (Laramie, WY)

Page 9 text:

lery School at Camp Zachary Taylor, Kentucky, and the Machine Gun School at Camp Hancock, Georgia. There are no ceremonies, classes go on as usual — impassiveness is part of the military life — but many a University heart is wrenched — faculty as well as feminine — for with these detachments, the upper classes, so far as men are concerned, are passing. Nearly all the Seniors have already gone, and now 1920 is on its way. This is the University of Wyoming in war. Gone its happy college life of other days — vanished its academic freedom. Funds, plant, Board of Trustees, faculty, student body — all are unreservedly at the service of the Government, and one dominating thought directs the purpose of all — Win the War . The Armistice! Demobilization!! It is over!!! The Captains and the Kings depart — the Students ' Army Training Corps, as suddenly as it came into being, passes and is no more. Alas! the S. A. T. C. ! An interesting experiment that — in education as well as in military training — but launched too hastily, by an inexpert personnel, in a laboratory not properly prepared! Given time for adjustment and co-ordination it might, as its sponsors fondly hoped, have worked a beneficent revolution in education, and gone far towards affording a solution of more than one problem of national importance. A great idea — but dim ' d ere it nooned . Vale, S. A. T. C. ! And new that we are normal again, we sigh with relief and settle back — to what? To the good old days — those complacent, myopic, pre-war days? Is our word of command now to be AS YOU WERE ? No! That easy world we knew is gone forever. We live in a time of readjustment and reconstruction — a time that demands resolute facing of the problems of the future as well as those of the present. If, by War ' s grim decision, Absolutism has been overcome, other menaces to our civilization have been uncovered, the existence of which we scarcely imagined but yesterday. And so, in our progress we must be cautious. We must look forward, but with a roving eye — the good scout, remember, takes an occasional glance backward over the path he is traversing, lest in the changing perspective, he lose track of his landmarks. Our ideals, while of the highest, must be practical; our altruism tempered by the possibility of performance. To knowledge must be added training, efficiency, moral and physical fitness, and a sympathetic understanding of things as they are if college folk are to take their places as leaders in the tremendous affairs of the era that is dawning. Proved by War as well as by Peace, the University will fit its young people to meet the conditions of the world they live in. ON WYOMING! B. C. D.

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On Wyoming! Class— ' SHUN!! A voice of authority resounds on the Campus. You are S-L-O-W! — ROT- TEN!! — it goes on impersonally, and we identify it as the voice of the naturally urbane Sergeant Hicks. His remarks are directed at two platoons — one hundred or more earnest lads, who, despite the piercing air of a frosty November morning, are scarcely half clad, but are going through the intricacies of feet closed and full — H-OPEN and other startling contortions, tying and untying knots in their young frames at word of command, as though their very lives depended on it! This is P. E. — physical training which has as its aim quickening the mind as well as strengthening the muscles — developing poise and mental alertness no less than sound, well set-up bodies. On another part of the field other young men, similarly half clad and equally ob- livious of the cold, are performing various strange evolutions — hopping over saw-bucks, leaping across imaginary trenches with arms flying, jabbing, thrusting, lunging, with naked bayonets at quivering bundles of faggots, now resting on the ground, now swinging from a timber frame. Set faces — bared teeth — every movement accompanied by astonishing grunts or fiercesome growls — there is a deadly earnestness to all this. If anyone forgets momentarily, and smiles, sharp reproof follows instantly, for this is bayonet training, and its slogan, whether called by devil-dog or doughboy, is treat em rough! And in the class room ! Men everywhere ! The instructor enters. Once again — Class, ' SHUN! — and with a vast clattering of army brogans and university furniture the men are on their feet, eyes to the front, bodies rigidly erect. This is the innovation known as springing to attention — part of the new discipline — and it is said to embarrass the lady instructors! Comes a day of mingled gladness and sadness. The first detachment of officer- candidates from the S. A. T. C. is leaving the University for Camp MacArthur, Texas — twenty-five men in all. And others are very soon to go — detachments for the Field Artil-

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