PETS

U S Military Academy at West Point



















  Last Updated: 2/2/99

Some may wonder, didn't the Cadets miss their pets they left at home? Never fear, they met the challenge. They had fish bowls full of fish that were kept behind their books on their book shelves, hamsters galore, etc. The following are just a few stories of the mischief they created with their pets.


Tammy was a South American boa, around eight feet long. I had worked in the snake pits at the Oklahoma City Zoo while in highschool, and was an experienced snake man. I later put on the poisonous snake shows at the Ranger Dept at Benning.

I forget just how, but Chaplain Raynis (sp?) the Catholic chaplain, and I became aware of our mutual interest in snakes, and he assisted me in buying Tammy from a dealer in NYC and getting her delivered to WP. I had also become almost a member of the family of the Links. George Link was a Finnish gymnastics instructor, who use to lecture us while hanging inverted on the flying rings. They lived in one of the little gingerbread quarters down by the flag pole on trophy point. I recruited his sons to operate a rat farm in their basement as feed stock for Tammy's insatiable hunger.

By this time, I was living in an area still existing today, the Lost Fifties, in company M-2. The best way to describe this was Dorothy's comment after being sucked up by the tornado in The Wizard of Oz. "Toto, I don't think this is Kansas!" And the Lost Fifties wasn't quite the rest of the Corps. It was a special place.

We had old gray metal desks in our rooms, some with a non- functional disappearing typewriter well which folded into the desktop. I altered the unused area inside the desk to a snake cage, with a small light for warmth when necessary. Tammy began to eat and participate in cadet life. Her specialty was before dinner 'calls', when the plebes would report to the squad leaders room for inspection. We would drape her around a plebe neck and have her 'inspect' the chosen. Her real love was the shower room in South Area barracks where the drains could be stopped up and a four inch deep lake form, filled with tropically warm water. She could then slither up the wall to reach the shower fixtures placed periodically around the walls of the shower room. Her chosen method of attack was ambush from an elevation, wrapped around the shower head, waiting for a cadet to approach the shower head.

I can tell you from long observation, few people actually look up into the shower head until their very last moment. Mike Miller, was the project director for the South Area operations, and we would move about the cadet area with Tammy in a laundry bag, when necessary.

For some strange reason, I was selected to join Brigade Staff at the final term of first class year. I moved into a large room just above Dick Chilcoat, our Brigade Commander. When I approached Dick about my significant other, he just didn't seem to understand, and terminated the discussion. So, we moved in. I had a new job as Asst Bde Activities Officer. I was on the Bde Staff, but never had to parade, and was close to the mess hall, and Tammy's rat farm. We prospered. My only real duty was to sell tickets to the cadets for special functions. After the meals, a line would form at my room, and extending down the stairs outside, with cadets wanting to pay their respects to Tammy. The tacs and OCs always thought it was just the ticket line, never suspecting there was a boa constrictor nest just feet above the bunk of our Brigade Commander.

As graduation approached, many things were going to change in our lives. I was less mature than many of the alpha type males in the class, and had never really dated much.. but needed a gal for June Week dances at graduation. I wrote a killer letter to Miss Okla and soon had a date. I knew I had to stash Tammy for graduation week and made arrangements for her to stay in a faculty member's quarters. The wife was a pre-med student and had taken a keen interest in my snake.

By this time I had made a traveling cage in the cadet hobby shop. I delivered this and Tammy to the quarters. The wife thought Tammy needed to eat, so I brought a rat up, which bit the wife when she was trying to introduce it to a 'not hungry just now' Tammy. The wife wonders if maybe the rat is rabid?

By now, I was within hours of graduation... and now THIS! I didn't mind killing Tammy to recover the rat brain for testing, but didn't want to do this if the brain was already far enough in the digestive process that it would be pointless. The solution was to take Tammy to the cadet hospital and request an x-ray. We put Miss Okla on ice for the moment, Tammy went into the laundry bag for transport, and we went to the hospital, which is where the Admissions office is today. After explaining our mission to the radiology staff, they provided the necessary service, and we determined Tammy had already digested the rat. Then to the local vet who assured us the farm bred rat, not being an 'open range' rat, had little chance of being a rabies carrier.

So that's how it all ended up. Miss Oklahoma and I danced the night away, Tammy spend graduation leave with Chaplain Raynis (sp?), the officer's wife didn't die from rabies, and the rat farm in the basement of the Link's quarters was disbanded upon Tammy's and my departure to the Ranger Dept.

Thank God for all those TACs who didn't look too hard or too long... for Tammy! And for all my co-conspirators!

Jack Price '64


My pet in the barracks story is not as dramatic.

It happened during 1st Beast in the Summer of 68. Pete Heesch and I were Training NCO and Officer, respectively. A large furry cat walked into our room in the 16th Division, tail standing straight up, and looking like it owned the place. It appeared to be sick with a very distended stomach. Pete and I took care of it until the end of the 1st detail. We decided that I should keep the cat as a pet, something to comfort me during our first class year. I found a helpful faculty member who offered to care for the cat while I was on leave.

Upon my return for Reorgy Week, I was informed that my cat had not been sick and that I was the proud owner of one mother cat and six kittens. I prevailed upon the friendly faculty member to care for the cat and kittens until they were weaned. He also offered to find them a home, which he did.

After the kittens were weaned, the cat, named Fickle because one never knew whose bed she would be in, was returned to my care. I lived on the 4th floor of the 34th Division - a good place to be because visits by stray officers, especially the OC were well-telegraphed. Our drill was to throw the cat in the closet and a laundry bag against the door to prevent her from coming out (For some reason, Old South closets had a 4 inch space between the bottom of the door and the floor.)

One evening while I was busy in Lee Hall playing pool, the OC made it to my room. My roommates assured me that they had followed the approved officer in the barracks plan, tossed the cat in the closet and thrown a laundry bag against the door. One of them obviously failed laundry bag tossing. Fickle decided to strut her stuff just as the OC walked into the room. Needless to say there were some strong words, but fortunately no disciplinary action. My roommates were ordered to get rid of the cat immediately. They did. They brought it to me in Lee Hall with the OC's instruction to get it out of the cadet area. I returned to my room, unmarked my card, and delivered the cat to my friendly faculty member who took pity on the poor cat.

End of story.

Mike Colacicco
Best of the Line'69


Tale of the airborne gerbil.

Two of my classmates in A-3, living in Old South (Grant) acquired a gerbil in about our yearling or cow year. The gerbil lived in one of their dresser drawers. They taught the gerbil how to climb onto the window sill, with a handkerchief and string parachute, jump off and float down to a waiting cadet in the grassy area below the third or fourth floor window and between the ramp to New South (Lee and Sherman). Upon successful completion of each PLF, the gerbil would be rewarded with whatever food it liked best.

The airborne gerbil performed many times to the enjoyment of several cadets in the two barracks areas over a period of months, without detection of the TACs. There were appropriate ceremonies to "pin" on cardboard wings, etc.

Unfortunately, one day while the owners were at class, the airborne gerbil escaped from his hiding place, crawled out on the window sill and jumped to his death, (having forgotten to get into his parachute harness first). Unless my memory is mistaken, a current special Ops BG was the owner.

Following the demise of the gerbil, we had a formal funeral and burial with full military honors, including a couple of Hell Cats for drums and taps. Cadets were in full dress gray for the occasion. A decorated black gold and gray large matchbox with big silver master blaster wings was the casket, and we even had a small American flag for the affair. They buried him in the grassy area where he fell and the attending cadets designated that area Gerbil Drop Zone in memory of our fallen comrade.

For several years after that, I heard stories about the airborne gerbil, as it became cadet lore.

Mike Toler '72


BACK TO TRADITIONS PAGE

Please sign our Guest Book.
Click above to sign our Guest Book.

Questions and comments are invited via E-mail.