Plain old good fun and
pranks
In the first few months of
1952 the Academy was preparing for the
sesquicentennial celebration. I don't
remember the entire scope of the events
but there were to be a number of
political and military VIP's visiting the
Academy. I believe that President
Eisenhower was to arrive during some
portion of the time. In preparation for
the celebration and the arrival of the
VIP's much of the iron works on Central
Area were painted a cream color.
All of the railings and metal trim of the
stoops which were a chocolate brown color
now were a bright cream. The big
clock in the middle of Central Area was
also painted this cream color.
Some time during the night before the
arrival of all the VIP's, some people got
red paint and painted the clock like a
barber pole with nice red stripes
circling from top to bottom. The
next morning dawned grey and
raining. Naturally the spectacle
drew quite a crowd and it was funny to
see the post painters trying to cover
over the red paint with the cream paint
while it was pouring down rain. I have a
picture of the "barber pole"
Central Area clock.
Jim Barker '55
20510
The Area Clock
Otto Meerbort, '46
Each dawn I gaze through the morning haze
Which blankets my concrete floor.
Throughout the day in my stern silent way
I review the cadets of the Corps.
Steadily I state through the midnight air
When celestial flowers bloom,
And only the beat of the sentinel's feet
Disturbs the midnight gloom.
On my lofty throne I stand alone,
So slender and stately and tall.
My thin hands roll to an infinite goal,
Yet my visage is vital to all.
I have viewed the Corps with my faces four
Through the multiple years gone by.
Oh, steady they stand as a flawless band,
But none stands as steady as I.
Yes, all day long my monotonous song
Re-echoes its endless rhyme.
But cadets of the Corps respect my law
For I am the element, time.
On the subject of pranks
I recall one of the greatest done on the
parade field. I was a yearling in I-2 and
we marched in 62's graduation parade.
When the order for the Pass in Review was
given, every Firstie stepped out of his
shoes and finished the parade clad only
in their socks. After the parade
was over, there were all these spit
shined shoes in perfect rows remaining on
the Plain. There was some talk about not
letting them go to their graduation dance
and possibly delaying their graduation.
Can't remember the exact outcome.
As Firsties, during the
Fall of 1950 Phil Sheridan, Dewey Detar,
and I set up a short-order kitchen in our
room in E-2 Company. We converted a
storage basement footlocker into a
freezer. With the amount of food that
Dewey's and my mom sent plus two hot
plates, we established a menu of BLT's,
cheese burgers, etc. Plebes would pick up
the orders before call to quarters and
deliver them before taps. Our operation's
demise came only after our mothers had
sent us chef's hats and (you will
remember rolling up our shades half way)
an OC saw the white mushroom tops. He
thought it so humorous that he shut us
down but didn't report us. At a class
picnic during our fifth reunion we heard
a nearby cadet picnic talking of this as
a legend.
Some us used to go over
the wall to Magoos in Highland Falls,
tried to hit up on all the young ladies
who had removed their pins for the
evening, and have a few beers. On one
occasion I remember some one got the
bright idea to stage a panty raid on
Ladycliff. [Ed. Note - there used
to be an all girls school in Highland
Falls.] I was on the fire escape when I
saw the police
lights approaching. If they had not had
those lights on we would have been caught
cold. As it was we escaped by running
down the tracks and then entering the
cadet area through the steam tubes.
Definitely a night to remember and we did
not even get any panties.
From our guestbook..
Speaking of memories, one of my best was in '66 (or '67?) when all the silver sugar bowls disappeared from the mess hall in protest to the Superintendent not allowing Army to play in the Sugar Bowl. Four hundred sugar bowls, Zap!, gone in the dark of night. Amazing. Beautiful.
from Ed
Marks, '49
It all began when my E-2 roommate, Bob Gess start practicing on his
clarinet. I had to study and went to the library for some quiet place
to work. While there, I noticed a copy of the Communist newspaper , the
Daily Worker on the newspaper rack. I picked it up out of curiosity and
began to read it. There was an article that said they were looking for
donations to keep the newspaper going, and that for even a $2.50
subscription, they lost $12.50 . I decided to subscribe (to put them out
of business a bit quicker), and had the paper sent by mail to the room. I
had received about 5 issues when I was notified by my Tac, then Col.
Dwight E Beach...later a 4 star general, to pay him a visit.
The first thing he said was, Mr. Marks (my father's name was Carl), "are
you a member of the Communist party"......and, why was I subscribing
to this paper. I told him I was not a party member, or even a
sympathizer. I explained that the paper would be further in the RED if I
subscribed, and he BOUGHT it. However, as I was leaving, his parting
shot was, "if you know what's good for you, unsubscribe immediately."
---------
Another story goes like this: As a plebe, my roommate and I lived in the
highest floor (5th Floor walkup) in the Corps, and because the yearlings
down the hall had to 'babysit" us to be sure we didn't "run the wagon", they
gave us an extra hard time .....which I resented. When I saw that they had a
a sense of humor, I entered their room one afternoon when I knew they were
in class, and with an electric razor , squared off the POMPOM on one of
their tarbuckets. They were pink and white beneath the black exterior.
The next day, when I came back from a class, I saw that someone had put
a padlock on my full dress jacket (when we went to parade, I had to
slip it on over my head, and covered the padlock with my crossbelts)...two
days later , the lock had been removed, and for a while, hazing from that
quarter was lessened considerably.
["Running the Wagon " was an expression used by the upperclassmen to
describe plebes who were out of control, or "unsupervised". Ed M]
....Eagles..........where do Eagles dare?......
Greg Stitt (Class of 2000) heard
during Beast that it was good luck to kiss Fame, and after two years
of planning, he, Kris Upson, and Dallas Cheatham devised a method to
climb Battle Monument. Greg kissed the winged statue and hung a
40-ft. "Go Army" banner from the top, which, unfortunately, brought
the attention of the MP's who arrested him on the spot. As it turns
out, Greg was the only cadet to ever climb the monument, and
accomplished his feat during the 100th year since its dedication.
I know from personal experience that the Comm's office can be broken
into at night after he has left. When I was a yearling ('96), I was a
member of the Cannon Crew. Before one of the games that football season, we
took the small cannon that we use in the stadium for most games and put it
in the Comm's office. When he arrived the next morning, the first thing he
saw when he opened his door was the muzzle of a cannon staring him in the
face. It was the best spirit mission that I was a member of in my 4 years
at the academy.
There have been other break-ins that I am aware of. Last year before
the Navy football game, some cadets got into the Brigade Tac's office and
brought his desk down to the mess hall so that we all saw it when we came in
for breakfast.
Rest assured, dear old trogs, WP cadets are not lagging behind in this area.
Scott Abram
2LT, IN '98
Last night, the first night of TEEs, an unnamed instructor walked out
of his office in Washington Hall about 2115 hours, headed for his
home. Starting down the steps from Bldg. 720 were two male cadets,
wearing nothing but running shoes and a cadet knit cap. The weather
was clear and cold, about 20 degrees, light winds, with snow from the
last two snowfalls still laying all around the grounds.
Upon seeing
the officer coming out of the shadows, one cadet did a 180 turn and
ran back up the steps, while the other one continued running down the
unlit steps unknowingly toward the officer. Realizing these cadets
were obviously out on a spirit mission, the officer smiled and acted
like he did not see the cadet who was still coming down the long
flight of stairs.
By now the first cadet (who was up on the level of
Bldg 720 hidden by the walls and darkness) must have somehow gotten
the attention of the descending cadet and he too spun around and
headed back up the stairs. The officer continued walking on his way,
appearing to have never seen either cadet.
About thirty seconds
later, the same officer was passed by the same two cadets, now running
full speed in the darkness behind Bradley Barracks near the
reconstruction of Grant Bks (Old South). The officer shouted at the
two cadets, "You men halt!" The startled cadets immediately came to a
halt about fifteen feet beyond the officer, who was now walking up to
look them in the face. As he strode toward them, he could not help
saying to them, "Freeze right there."
As he now approached the
unidentified cadets, they came to attention and one said to the other
under his breath, "Oh shit, we're in for it now." After looking into
their faces, the officer realized he did not know them by sight.
Feeling in the holiday spirit and being a mean but humorous bastard,
he stated, "Gentlemen, you appear to be out of uniform. Where are
your nametags?" The cadets replied, "Sir, we are not wearing them."
The officer continued, "Yes, I can tell. That is why I stopped you -
plus, you failed to salute an officer as you passed me. But why
aren't you wearing your nametags?"
There was a pregnant pause. One
cadet's eyes rolled up in his head and a disrespectful smirk slowly
spread across his face. The other one was shivering but obviously in
deep thought trying to figure a way out of this situation. Suddenly,
the thoughtful one responded for the two of them, "Sir, the Commandant
ordered us not to do any blood pinnings."
The officer smiled, said
"Good answer. Well since I do not know who you are, I guess I can't
write you up. Carry on." The cadets saluted and ran off toward
Central Area. As they ran off, the officer suggested they dress a
little more warmly in the future and wished them "Merry Christmas."
A
few moments later the whole area erupted with cadet cheers and spirit
calls. As the officer continued walking toward home, a fully naked
female figure (assumed cadet) zipped silently past him in the darkness
on Thayer Road and ran up the ramp to Sherman and Lee Bks (New South)
to a corresponding crescendo of cadet yells and cheers. The Corps
lives.
Mike Toler, '72
The M2 "Easter Egg" story -
Chapel was mandatory back in the 60's except for Easter. Go figure! The
Corps only had 2 regiments then. M2 was the last company in the Corps and
had a pretty easy reputation. Also since the Corps was sized for parades, A
Co were runts and M2 were flankers. Because of our size most of us were
Corps squad (played on varsity teams) sitting on training tables and rarely
making evening formations etc. so plebes had it pretty easy in M2. Spring
was on us and life was easy is the picture I'm painting even though
recognition was still June week and not spring break like it was for my
son.
Anyway Easter Sunday was planned by us plebes for a long morning nap.
Along about 0430 that morning all hell broke loose. M2 upper classmen got
us up for a terrific round of beast barracks all over again. After forever
we were all assembled in the sinks and given instructions for the "Easter
Egg Hunt" - plebes were to be moved to the 5th floor of each division where
upon jelly-beans were rained down the flights of stairs.
With necks well in, we were counseled all the way as we gathered our "Easter Eggs"
scrambling all over each other in our quests. The amount of noise was unreal and I heard
that we woke up the Supt in his quarters that morning (as I guess previous
M2 classes had done).
Lined up in the sinks again with mashed handfuls of
jelly-beans there were many pushups for classmates with few "Easter Eggs"
and many more for those classmates who went "big Richard" on classmates by
getting too many. Several clothing formations later we were out in front of
the lost 50's as for a reveille run went the upper classmen kind of
disappeared and then hit us with waste cans of water from the stoops. We of
course responded by tossing them in showers and then got recognized by all
but the company officers who could not because of regs. Plebe year was over
in M2 at that time but it sure went out with a bang!
The traditional M2 "Easter Egg" surprise died when the Corps went to 4
regiments and the companies were no longer sized for cadet drill. It was an
event I long remember some 36 years ago.
Rex Nichols, 1966
Our son mentioned to us about a paper airplane he let fly during an Army
versus Air Force basketball game. The hang time was amazing (so he tells
us) and when pulled aside by the OIC he was at first reprimanded (and then
quietly congratulated)...I thought it was ironic that it was Air Force!
Great story about rattling the bayonets. I forgot all about that. Of
course you'll have to explain to these young guys what an M-1 was.
Remember how occasionally some classmate would slip an empty M-1 clip into
another classmates rifle, and when the butt of the joke executed inspection
arms at SAMI, you could hear this loud "ping" as the empty clip flew out.
For the younger grads, a clip is a metal device in to which was inserted the
.30 cal M-1 rounds, and then the clip was inserted into the rifle from the
top of the receiver. As opposed, of course, to a magazine.
Bill Schwartz '59
I specifically remember a parade during my Cow or Firstie year when the
sprinklers on the Plain went on, dousing some of the Old Grads in the
reviewing party (it was an alumni review) until the Reserve/NG MPs covered
the sprinkler heads with their helmet liners. I don't know how he did it,
but the culprit was a company- and class-mate of mine who was later
dismissed for conduct.
Bob Sinnema '85
Last in the Corps, I-Beam Four
One prank from which I still derive great glee was Beat Navy Week of
Plebe year. All of the plebes in I-4 plotted for weeks for this one. We
saved milk cartons from the messhall, keeping them hidden on the windowsills
in the back of the divisions where they could rot and spoil. Well after
taps, we left our rooms, and turned down the switches in the fuse boxes for
each of the 3 divisions in our company, turning off all electricity. We low
crawled into the rooms of all of the upperclassmen in our respective squads,
turning on lights, radios and stereos (full volume), electric toothbrushes,
razors, hair dryers, etc. We poured the spoiled milk (which now resembled
cottage cheese) on the floor beside the bunks, smeared peanut butter on
doorknobs, and crept out of the rooms.
The minute callers took their positions, and all but one other plebe
per division sneaked back into bed. This last one manned the circuit
breakers. At the appointed moment, the minute callers began to scream the
minutes: "Sir! There are ___ minutes until breakfast formation! The
uniform is: As for class!" At this time, the upperclassmen were mostly
awake, and completely disoriented. The minute callers fled to their rooms,
and the fuse-box monitors slammed the electricity back on and ran back to
their rooms.
A huge ruckus erupted, with music blaring, radios screaming, enraged
upperclassmen bellowing, slipping in the spoiled milk and cursing at the
peanut butter on the doorknobs. When cornered by the upperclassmen in our
squads, we replied only, "Beat Navy, Sir/Ma'am." It was a great moment. And
truthfully, the buck-up the next day wasn't so bad. It was more than worth
the war stories we could tell after that.
---Celia A. FlorCruz, '82
In order to get out of going on a date with a woman he had met the
weekend before, a classmate told the woman that he wouldn't be free
due to his R/O duty. The term R/O stands for "room orderly" and which
means any infractions found during the daily AM inspections (AMI) or
Saturday morning inspections (SAMI) would count against that person.
The R/O responsibility normally rotated among the room occupants on a
weekly basis. It did not restrict the person's ability to go on dates.
As entertainment during the week before the Army-Navy game,
upperclassmen would pour trashcans of water on to the main hallway of
MacArthur Longwing. Then, dressed only in Gym-A Shorts, run down 1/3
of the hallway and throw themselves on the floor and slide as far as
possible down the rest of hallway. It was somewhat like a big
Slip-n-Slide. Activities ceased when the Officer of the Day was
spotted.
A periodic occurrence to people having birthdays was that they
would be ambushed by several classmates and stripped down to their
underwear. They would then be tied to an empty clothes rack and taken
into the North Area. After getting the attention of cadets in the
surrounding barracks rooms they would sing happy birthday. Afterwards,
they would be taken near one of the barracks and people would dump
trashcans-worth of water on the victim. Eventually they would be left
in the middle of the area until a sympathetic friend came and untied
them. These types of celebrations were much worse during the cold days
of winter.
One evening a Yearling antagonized two Cows and ended up tied up in
a duffel bag on the elevator. He rode the elevator up and down for
about 20 minutes until someone released him.
Once during my plebe year a classmate stole a firstie's ring. The
firstie did not want to pay the ransom though. In hopes of coercing
the plebe to give back the ring, he followed the plebe to class and
took his hat back to the plebe's barracks room after he entered the
classroom. This of course created a very difficult situation for my
classmate trying to get back to the barracks after class. He
persevered several other efforts by the firstie and was eventually
successful in getting the ransom.
I believe the ransom was pizza and cokes. At that time Boodlers was in the
basement of the 1st Division of the old barracks (the oldest one that stands in Central Area).
I think that's the name of it. The West Point Credit Union was on the
first floor at the time as well so you could get money from the ATM
then buy something to eat. Standing in line as a plebe though was
asking for it. Getting a pizza was therefore a pretty good deal.
Sometimes on rally days prior to football games, a few male cadets
would run through the areas with nothing more than jock straps and
shoes yelling and screaming. This was known as a "jock strap rally".
What was more interesting was that some women decided they were being
left out and did the same except with only bras, underwear and shoes.
It was not uncommon on Friday nights for Firsties returning from the
Firstie Club at Ike Hall to be inebriated and noisy while passing
through the areas on there way to their rooms. To get back at them,
some of my classmates purchased a three-man slingshot. Two people
would hold either end of the elastic band and the third would pull it
back and release the ammunition. The ammunition consisted of
waterballons. A person on the ground could be accurately targeted from
across the area. It was a sobering wake-up for many Firsties. The
lights were obviously left off to avoid detection.
As a Firstie, the Corps was trying a
new rooming arrangement. All of the Firsties from my Battalion were
consolidated on the third floor of MacArthur Longwing with the rest of
the companies below and above. Well, it turned out that two of my
fellow aerospace engineering majors were down the hall. The night
prior to one of our tests I stopped in before Taps to see how they
were doing. They were already planning to stay up after Taps to study
and had set up an interesting contraption to foil the Officer of the
Day (OD). Standard practice was to put a green girl up in the window
to block any light from shining outside and to put a towel at the base
of the door so the OD couldn't tell the light was on from the hallway.
What they did in addition was to attach a paperclip to the door handle
then attach a string to the paperclip. The string went up the door to
a nail then traveled horizontally to another nail above the light
switch. The string then looped down to the light switch. The idea was
that as the door handle was turned, the string would tighten and flip
the switch prior to the door opening. I don't know if it was ever put
to the test. There still remained another problem though. If the OD
did come in, they would be at their desks and not in their beds.
Pablo E. Ruiz
USMA '90, G-3
