At the first opportunity I wrote home, but I was very careful not to mention the hardships I endured, for the reason that I had gone to West Point contrary to my parents’ wishes, and consequently I was determined to get through if I could. This reminds me, there were young men in my class whose parents had sent them there against the wishes of the candidates themselves, and many of these young men did not want to stay. Competitive examinations required by some Congressmen for appointments were not as common in my day as they are now. Some of my classmates purposely failed on the preliminary examination and West Point is no place for a young man unless the young man himself wants to go there.
One day Mr. B⸺dy, my predecessor, sent for me to go to his quarters. I did not know what new trials were in store for me, as I had never been in any old cadet’s quarters. Mr. B⸺dy invited me to sit down, which I did for the first time in an old cadet’s presence. We talked for a few moments about people we both knew at our native places. He then gave me his “white pants” (about twenty pairs), and said he hoped I would pass the “prelim” so as to be able to wear them, and that I would graduate higher than he would.
The “graduating ball” that year was on the night of June 14th, but as candidates were not expected to attend it, none were present. The next day the graduating class received their diplomas, discarded cadet gray, put on “Cit” clothes, said good-byes and left the Point, to return no more as cadets. We did not know much of the graduating class, but I now remember the names of more men in that class than in any other at the Academy, excepting my own. This I account for from the fact that I was then so much impressed with the importance of a graduate of West Point. In my eyes he seemed to be a greater man than the Superintendent, in fact there was no comparison.
There was a change made on graduating day among the cadet officers. At the next drill Cadet H⸺d appeared with pretty gold lace chevrons on his coat. He wore them on the sleeves of his dress coat, below the elbow, and he was proud to have everybody know that he was a “Corporal” now. I promptly congratulated him, and he said, “Thank you, Mr. R⸺d,” instead of reprimanding me for speaking without having been first spoken to. In a few days more the new second class men put on “Cit” clothes, and left on furlough. It seemed strange to me that these cadets seemed just as anxious to take off the cadet gray as the candidates were to put it on.