From all the doors of the barracks are now pouring the upper-classmen immaculately dressed in stiffly starched and evenly creased white trousers, gleaming white belts, and shining buckles. Their faces are so obscured by the chin strap of their high dress hat that all personalities are lost, and each man appears to be the duplicate of his fellow. The picturesqueness of the uniforms and the background of the severe stone barracks recall the days of Frederick the Great. The assembly sounds. At once the companies are formed and inspected. They proceed to their places in the sally-ports and between the neighboring buildings preparatory to debouching on the Plain. At the termination of the Adjutant’s call the band begins its march. One company emerges unexpectedly from the north sally-port, another from the south, another from near the Academic building, still one more from the shadow of the old gymnasium. More of them keep coming and move out on the Plain. The fresh green grass offers a charming contrast to the white of the uniforms as the companies perform their evolutions before advancing to the line. The Plain is dotted with companies in column, companies in line, companies in columns of platoons, marching in perfect cadence as if animated by machinery.
The line is now formed stretching from the flag pole to the trees in front of barracks. A few minutes of silence reign over the parade while the Adjutant moves smartly and rapidly to his place in front of the Battalion, and by command, brings the Corps to “parade rest.” The golden sun sinking in the west plays its dying rays on the long gray line, causing the men in ranks to blink and blink on account of its brilliancy, and illuminating the bell buttons of the dress coats until they sparkle like so many gems. Meanwhile, the band has marched in front of the Corps and resumed its place on the right. The retreat sounds. Then a hush falls over the visitors’ seats as the spectators rise to do honor to the flag, while the neighboring hills reverberate with the strains of the _Star Spangled Banner_. The exercise in the manual of arms being terminated, the band once again crashes forth and the thin gray line of cadet officers, with their feathered plumes fluttering and the knots of their red ashes swinging back and forth, sweeps forward to the officer reviewing the parade. Smart salutes are exchanged, the cadet officers face about and return to their companies to march them in review and back to barracks.
