Worcester Polytechnic Institute - Peddler Yearbook (Worcester, MA)

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’46 Won. cases neatly packed, his tennis racket, books, and radio stacked by the big clock in Sanford—waited uneasily for the car which was to take him—perhaps forever—from the Institute. The snowfall was heavy that winter, and eventually a thick crust covered the snow. The big winter sport for those who remained con¬ sisted of removing the metal trays from Daddy Locke’s mess hall, and, under the light of a cold moon, climbing with them to the hill on the side of the football field. Using the tray for a seat, the ’46ers would swish and swirl down the hill, across the field, and bounce off the fence on the other side. The Class teams came through that winter with wins in basketball The Commons and Mess night “Dorm Dances”. and swimming, while 42 Freshmen attained honors at mid-year. The Frosh-Soph rivalry ended with the ’46ers winning the always dis¬ appearing Goat’s Head. The draft boards took a terrible toll during the winter months. When Spring appeared again, only 148 Fresh¬ men remained. Meanwhile, Tech was selected as a possible training center by the Navy Department. A wise man once said: “To live a full life, a person should be able to play a musical instrument and speak one language other than his own.’’ The wise man left out one condition: “. . . and live at least six months in the Freshman Dorm.” Although as civilians, no restric¬ tions were placed on coming or going from the dorm, the Freshmen seldom left the dorm at night, for there was so much going on there that it was more entertaining to stay in. The dorm always was an interesting place, but never was it so interesting as during its last few months in civilian hands. Water bags were always stand¬ ard equipment. Some characters bought bags wholesale from sta- Hall were the scene of many regu lar Saturday

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Water fights were common occurrences in the civilian dorm. Here Charlie Schmit walked into the middle of a wet scene. On December 15, all enlistments in V-l and V-7 were closed. The distinction between “Navy man” and “civilian” now became more and more apparent. Through the late fall weeks, upperclassmen came to the dorm to eat with the Freshmen. Fraternities weren’t discussed, but everyone knew what they wanted. Rushing had begun. Just before Christmas, 131 Freshmen were pledged to Tech’s nine fraternities. Most of the men began to look hopefully toward the day when they would be living in their Houses . . . but for many, that day was never to come. Christmas vacation, and back to the books again. Classes had been in progress but a few weeks when the fruit of the brown question¬ naires filled out so quietly that fall began to appear in earnest. The Greetings flew like the whirling snow outside, and almost every day another Freshman with his suit- they call V-l”. Draft folders were quietly filled out . . . the handwrit¬ ing was on the wall. Later in the fall came the Tech Carnival. After weeks of labor a script appeared. A cast was formed under the direction of John Hawley, and the Freshman Skit, “Polly Was a Lady”, hit the stage. On the night the play was to be presented, Bob Scott, the Sopho¬ more Class President, was called to the telephone in Sanford Riley. He entered the booth and was quickly whisked away to the fourth floor. He later appeared in the play climbing out of a large trunk. The general theme of the play was about a co-ed Tech. Metzger, Lawton, Slaughter—Paddle Rush, 1942

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more Class officers were held. Carl Simon was elected President; A1 Kirschbaum, Vice-President; Walt Gleason, Secretary; Herb Slaugh¬ ter, Treasurer; and Frank Holby, Historian. The Spring Formal was Tech’s last big civilian affair. June sped swiftly by. No finals that term, and on June 3, the Class of ’46 broke up for a four-week vacation. Tech was never to be quite the same again. From early morning until late at night line went Navy Unit is formed at Tech. Here the Navy Chiefs Creeden and Rogers. tionery stores, and on the least pro¬ vocation the inmates would grab them, rush to the sink, fill them up, swing, and let go. A hefty water bag sailing down from the fourth story was an all too common sight. Some of the third floor boys con¬ tented themselves by pouring water in the corridor and soaping it up until the coefficient of friction ap¬ proached zero. Then, in nature’s own suit, they would take a short, fast run and slide the length of the building. One night some wit poured red ink on the middle of the floor as a slider came swishing down. The slider underwent an over-all change of color. Few will ever forget the inter¬ floor water fights, topped by the great May deluge. Water flowed down the stair wells in great cas¬ cades. The efforts of the single dorm proctor were of no avail, the eruption was so great. One floor was stormed by another and gen¬ eral chaos reigned. This was the climax of old dorm life. On May 18, elections for Sopho- on ... 1 July 1943, and the men for the first time met After four weeks of comparative quiet, broken only by the appear¬ ance of new civilians and frater¬ nity rushing, the Tech campus was a fever of activity. A few uni¬ forms, and many new faces sud¬ denly appeared. Taxis rolled in continuously, bringing in them bleary-eyed passengers, many of The problem of supply in the new Navy Unit was a big one. Many hours were spent here in the gym those sweltering summer days standing in line . . . stenciling, ... or just waiting.