With eyes up, thanking our God
R-Day is a very elaborate, well-planned and orchestrated event. West Point actually holds a Rehearsal Day where they invite members of the post community and others (ages 14-55) to come on down and pretend to be new cadet candidates arriving for the first time. “Mock cadets,” they are called.
I am sure the upperclassmen in the Beast cadre do not haze or yell at these hapless volunteers – although in this day and age, perhaps there is no longer any hazing or yelling going on at real R-Days, either. The purpose of this rehearsal day is to give the cadet cadre a “dry run,” a chance to iron out any kinks in the condensed in-processing process, because there is A WHOLE LOT that must get done on R-Day.
New cadet candidates are shepherded like clockwork from station to station where they undergo administrative in-processing; get haircuts, if needed; are issued a mind-boggling array of uniforms and equipment; learn how to salute; learn how to stand at attention, parade rest, line up in formation, and dress right dress; and learn how to march. At the end of the afternoon, there is a parade for any parents/families remaining where the new cadet candidates in their new haircuts and new white over gray uniforms march out onto the Plain and take the Oath of Allegiance in unison. After this, they are no longer new cadet candidates. They are now simply new cadets. They won’t become regular cadets until the end of Beast Barracks, some 6 to 8 weeks later, which is so far away from R-Day as to be unimaginable.
One of the first things new cadet candidates do upon arriving at the meat and potatoes part of R-Day is take off their contaminated civvies and don Gym Alpha (a white t-shirt with black shorts) and knee-high black socks and black low quarters. They make quite the fashion statement! A cadre member attaches an R-Day booklet on a string to each new cadet candidate’s shorts with a safety pin and then shoves him or her off to the first station. As a candidate completes each station, someone marks off or rips off the perforated tab from the booklet until at the end of the day nothing but stubs remain.
I still have my R-Day booklet. And the safety pin on a string. I keep it in my old gray cadet lock box along with other significant treasures from my life. The R-Day booklet is like a green badge of courage. A reminder of the hazy blur of my first day at the United States Military Academy.
All new cadet candidates must report to the cadet in the red sash for their official “welcome” to R-Day. The upperclassmen in the Beast cadre all wear white over gray with white service caps. The cadet in the red sash wears, not surprisingly, a red sash with his uniform.
“New Cadet Candidate X reports to the Cadet in the Red Sash as ordered.” The new cadet candidate salutes using the new mode of military greeting he or she has just learned moments before. Of course, he has done it all wrong, and the cadet in the red sash will have to correct him, after asking, “New Cadet Candidate, is it all right if I touch you to make a correction?”
A new cadet candidate has only four acceptable responses: “Yes, sir/ma’am.” “No, sir/ma’am.” “No excuse, sir/ma’am.” And “Sir/ma’am, I do not understand.” (The last one is frowned upon.) In this case, the new cadet candidate, who is so scared he/she is about ready to pee his pants, will reply, “Yes, sir” or “Yes, ma’am.” Depending, of course, on whether the cadet in the red sash is a male or a female upperclassman. The cadet in the red sash used to be “the man in the red sash.” Now it is just the “cadet in the red sash” because “woman in the red sash” sounds somehow risqué in a Victorian era sort of way. And we wouldn’t want that, now would we?
There is actually a different cadet in the red sash for each cadet basic training company. When I went to West Point, I think there were nine companies, but I can’t really remember. I was in 6th Company. “Combat ready! Rock steady! Sixth Co., sir!” Today I think the companies are lettered instead of numbered. My point here is that there are a bunch of cadets in red sashes milling about, but at the time you think there is only one and that he is ubiquitous.
To get myself appropriately started off on the wrong foot, I proceeded to report to the wrong cadet in the red sash. I was promptly met with a baptism of fire. Reporting to the cadet in the red sash was stressful enough; reporting to the wrong one was seismic.
Ironically, as a brand new second lieutenant reporting to my first active duty unit four years later, I was paired up with a senior first lieutenant in the receiving unit. He was to give me a tour of post, and as he turned to greet me, my heart froze and I broke out in a cold sweat, which is hard to do at Fort Campbell, Kentucky, in ninety-five degree heat. I had an immediate flashback to R-Day. This was the cadet in the red sash. The wrong cadet in the red sash. (I don’t even remember my “right” cadet in the red sash.) Of course, he did not remember me. He laughed when I told him. I was stunned. He was not at all the way I remembered him. He was, in fact, very mild-mannered and laid back, more like Howdy Doody than Godzilla. And not nearly as tall.
The purpose of R-Day is manifold, but ultimately it is to get the entire class of incoming plebes out onto that parade field in uniform so they can take the oath of allegiance. This is West Point’s way of showing all the parents: We can transform these civilian slackers, these blobs of clay, into staffs of granite in one short afternoon. Imagine what we can do in four years!
Four years.
Four years at West Point is an eternity. It is also the blink of an eye. I honest to god thought I would be at West Point FOREVER. I thought those four years were never going to end. EVER. I had entered a Sisyphean black hole where time no longer existed.
Life at West Point, especially as a plebe, moved at such an intense, fast, and stressful (albeit timeless) pace that it was almost as if one existed in a vacuum. There was West Point. And that was it. There are huge chunks of world events -- and slews of popular songs and TV shows -- from this timeframe that I don’t remember at all – or rather, never even knew about.
I could, however, tell you Worth’s Battalion Orders; the definition of leather; how many gallons of water flowed over the spillway at Lusk Reservoir; who the Secretary of the Army was; the colors and insignia of every branch in the U.S. Army; how to assemble and disassemble an M16/A1 rifle; the meaning of countless acronyms, like ASAP, STRAC, CCQ, AWOL, and OCOKA; how to shine shoes, make a gig line, give a dress off, and polish brash; how to throw a hand grenade, drive a tank, wear camouflage, and use a bayonet; sing the West Point “Alma Mater,” “The Corps,” and “Benny Havens, O!”; recite Douglas MacArthur’s “Duty, Honor, Country” speech, and, of course, tell you how the cow is. And so much more.
R-Day, as action-packed, stressful, and mind-numbing as it was, was simply the first day of the rest of my life....
I am sure the upperclassmen in the Beast cadre do not haze or yell at these hapless volunteers – although in this day and age, perhaps there is no longer any hazing or yelling going on at real R-Days, either. The purpose of this rehearsal day is to give the cadet cadre a “dry run,” a chance to iron out any kinks in the condensed in-processing process, because there is A WHOLE LOT that must get done on R-Day.
New cadet candidates are shepherded like clockwork from station to station where they undergo administrative in-processing; get haircuts, if needed; are issued a mind-boggling array of uniforms and equipment; learn how to salute; learn how to stand at attention, parade rest, line up in formation, and dress right dress; and learn how to march. At the end of the afternoon, there is a parade for any parents/families remaining where the new cadet candidates in their new haircuts and new white over gray uniforms march out onto the Plain and take the Oath of Allegiance in unison. After this, they are no longer new cadet candidates. They are now simply new cadets. They won’t become regular cadets until the end of Beast Barracks, some 6 to 8 weeks later, which is so far away from R-Day as to be unimaginable.
One of the first things new cadet candidates do upon arriving at the meat and potatoes part of R-Day is take off their contaminated civvies and don Gym Alpha (a white t-shirt with black shorts) and knee-high black socks and black low quarters. They make quite the fashion statement! A cadre member attaches an R-Day booklet on a string to each new cadet candidate’s shorts with a safety pin and then shoves him or her off to the first station. As a candidate completes each station, someone marks off or rips off the perforated tab from the booklet until at the end of the day nothing but stubs remain.
I still have my R-Day booklet. And the safety pin on a string. I keep it in my old gray cadet lock box along with other significant treasures from my life. The R-Day booklet is like a green badge of courage. A reminder of the hazy blur of my first day at the United States Military Academy.
All new cadet candidates must report to the cadet in the red sash for their official “welcome” to R-Day. The upperclassmen in the Beast cadre all wear white over gray with white service caps. The cadet in the red sash wears, not surprisingly, a red sash with his uniform.
“New Cadet Candidate X reports to the Cadet in the Red Sash as ordered.” The new cadet candidate salutes using the new mode of military greeting he or she has just learned moments before. Of course, he has done it all wrong, and the cadet in the red sash will have to correct him, after asking, “New Cadet Candidate, is it all right if I touch you to make a correction?”
A new cadet candidate has only four acceptable responses: “Yes, sir/ma’am.” “No, sir/ma’am.” “No excuse, sir/ma’am.” And “Sir/ma’am, I do not understand.” (The last one is frowned upon.) In this case, the new cadet candidate, who is so scared he/she is about ready to pee his pants, will reply, “Yes, sir” or “Yes, ma’am.” Depending, of course, on whether the cadet in the red sash is a male or a female upperclassman. The cadet in the red sash used to be “the man in the red sash.” Now it is just the “cadet in the red sash” because “woman in the red sash” sounds somehow risqué in a Victorian era sort of way. And we wouldn’t want that, now would we?
There is actually a different cadet in the red sash for each cadet basic training company. When I went to West Point, I think there were nine companies, but I can’t really remember. I was in 6th Company. “Combat ready! Rock steady! Sixth Co., sir!” Today I think the companies are lettered instead of numbered. My point here is that there are a bunch of cadets in red sashes milling about, but at the time you think there is only one and that he is ubiquitous.
To get myself appropriately started off on the wrong foot, I proceeded to report to the wrong cadet in the red sash. I was promptly met with a baptism of fire. Reporting to the cadet in the red sash was stressful enough; reporting to the wrong one was seismic.
Ironically, as a brand new second lieutenant reporting to my first active duty unit four years later, I was paired up with a senior first lieutenant in the receiving unit. He was to give me a tour of post, and as he turned to greet me, my heart froze and I broke out in a cold sweat, which is hard to do at Fort Campbell, Kentucky, in ninety-five degree heat. I had an immediate flashback to R-Day. This was the cadet in the red sash. The wrong cadet in the red sash. (I don’t even remember my “right” cadet in the red sash.) Of course, he did not remember me. He laughed when I told him. I was stunned. He was not at all the way I remembered him. He was, in fact, very mild-mannered and laid back, more like Howdy Doody than Godzilla. And not nearly as tall.
The purpose of R-Day is manifold, but ultimately it is to get the entire class of incoming plebes out onto that parade field in uniform so they can take the oath of allegiance. This is West Point’s way of showing all the parents: We can transform these civilian slackers, these blobs of clay, into staffs of granite in one short afternoon. Imagine what we can do in four years!
Four years.
Four years at West Point is an eternity. It is also the blink of an eye. I honest to god thought I would be at West Point FOREVER. I thought those four years were never going to end. EVER. I had entered a Sisyphean black hole where time no longer existed.
Life at West Point, especially as a plebe, moved at such an intense, fast, and stressful (albeit timeless) pace that it was almost as if one existed in a vacuum. There was West Point. And that was it. There are huge chunks of world events -- and slews of popular songs and TV shows -- from this timeframe that I don’t remember at all – or rather, never even knew about.
I could, however, tell you Worth’s Battalion Orders; the definition of leather; how many gallons of water flowed over the spillway at Lusk Reservoir; who the Secretary of the Army was; the colors and insignia of every branch in the U.S. Army; how to assemble and disassemble an M16/A1 rifle; the meaning of countless acronyms, like ASAP, STRAC, CCQ, AWOL, and OCOKA; how to shine shoes, make a gig line, give a dress off, and polish brash; how to throw a hand grenade, drive a tank, wear camouflage, and use a bayonet; sing the West Point “Alma Mater,” “The Corps,” and “Benny Havens, O!”; recite Douglas MacArthur’s “Duty, Honor, Country” speech, and, of course, tell you how the cow is. And so much more.
R-Day, as action-packed, stressful, and mind-numbing as it was, was simply the first day of the rest of my life....
posted by delta at 5:23 PM
2 Comments:
My name is Tyler. As a cadet candidate, I'm trying to prepare as much as I can. Thank you for your insight. I'm both excited and extremely intimitated by the information I am taking in. Do you have any advice for plebes to be?
Tyler, First of all, congratulations!!! I can understand your mixed feelings of elation and trepidation about what you are about to embark on at West Point and in the Army. These feelings are perfectly natural, and a lot of your fear is fear of the unknown. You do not need to feel "intimidated," though. Going through the entire admissions and nomination process for the service academies is quite a journey in itself. You would not have been accepted if you were not capable of meeting all the requirements demanded of cadets. Whether you choose to meet them, or how well you meet them, is up to you. I graduated from West Point 25 years ago this May 22nd, so what I experienced is likely to be quite different than what you will experience. Some things, I am sure, remain the same; others will have changed quite dramatically. Of one thing I am sure, it will be a challenge physically, mentally, and spiritually. For info on what it is like now as a cadet, I would try to talk with people who are currently cadets or who have just graduated. My advice to you would be to make sure you are in the best physical shape you can be in; have a really good sense of humor; work together with your classmates; and -- to quote my father, a 1939 USMA grad, who gave this advice to me before I left for Beast Barracks in 1981: "Remember, there are always SOBs wherever you go." Best of luck in all you do!
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