An Annapolis First Classman

The first formation of the brigade was a thrilling moment to Robert Drake. The warning bugle blew and eight hundred midshipmen scampered to their places in ranks, laughing and talking, some in desperate efforts to "beat the bugle." With the last blast of that unmusical instrument came complete quiet; then in front of each of the twelve companies into which the midshipmen were divided was to be seen a young man rapidly calling his company roll; and as names were called vociferous "heres" were to be heard coming from all parts of the long line of midshipmen; when the midshipman in front of the first company on the extreme right had finished calling his roll, he came to an about face, and saluted an impassive midshipman, his company commander, Cadet Lieutenant Drake.

"First company, three absent, sir," reported First Petty Officer Peters.

"Take your post, sir," ordered his captain, Cadet Lieutenant Drake. First Petty Officer Peters smartly stepped off to the right of the company, Cadet Lieutenant Drake at the same time going to the company's left. Down the line could be heard shouts of different company officers, aligning their companies. And then the midshipmen of the first company heard a ringing order, not too loud, but in a tone that before the end of the year became entirely familiar to them and in which each man learned to have entire trust.

"First company, left step, march. Company halt. Left dress. Back in the centre, up on the right, carry it along, back extreme right. Steady. Front." Each of the twelve companies had been similarly aligned by its cadet lieutenant, and the brigade, stretching along the terrace for over five hundred feet, was now as straight as a taut string.

In front of the brigade, facing it, all alone, stood a tall, erect, manly-looking midshipman, entirely self-possessed, apparently not carried away by the distinguished position he occupied. Triumphant feeling must have had a place in his heart, but of this there was no external evidence.

Such formations as these occur innumerable times in the midshipmen's career; they are held before every meal, before every drill, and on many other occasions; and each time every midshipman at the Academy is accounted for.

Six hundred and sixty-five permanent regulations, besides special orders, control the lives and actions of each of the eight hundred midshipmen at our national Naval School. There are many officers on duty there for instruction purposes, and a few have special disciplinary duties concerned with the inspection and regulation of the conduct of the midshipmen. But it is only by the effective coöperation of the cadet officers that discipline is maintained. The commandant inspects the midshipmen and their quarters Sunday morning; the lieutenant-commander on duty for the day as "officer-in-charge" makes several inspections during his twenty-four hours' time; but the cadet officers have multifarious disciplinary duties over midshipmen in their control, and as stated, it is the efficient execution of these duties by the cadet officers and the carrying out by them of the commandant's and officer-in-charge's orders, that largely controls the actions and conduct of individual midshipmen.

Robert Drake realized all this; what midshipman does not who has been at the Naval Academy for three years? And now came to him, as comes to all cadet officers, a determination to do his part with all the ability he possessed. He was indeed happy to be cadet lieutenant, and was proud of the three stripes on each sleeve that indicated that rank. As cadet lieutenant he had many daily routine inspections and reports to make and was assisted in these by two cadet officers, a cadet junior lieutenant and a cadet ensign, and by eight petty officers, a number of the latter being second classmen.

"Well, Stone," Robert remarked as they commenced their studies, "I certainly have a busy eight months cut out for me. Just look at these formidable lessons assigned us for to-morrow. Here are twenty pages in seamanship, and about the same amount in gunnery and in electricity. We've got an awful lot to do this year in steam engineering, and look at those five hundred pages in navigation. Whew! I don't see how we're going to do it well. Then I'm sure to be constantly busy with my company duties; this ought to be enough, but on top of this is an hour and a half's drill each day, and after that, football till it is too dark to see. Jimmini! If we get more than a smattering out of those books I'll be surprised. And you'll be busy too; you're editor of the 'Lucky Bag'[1 - Each year the senior class publishes a book called "The Lucky Bag," which is illustrative of midshipman life.] and chairman of the hop committee!"

"Yes, we'll have no spare minutes," replied Stonewell. "Let's get to work."

The next morning, as the gunnery recitation commenced, the instructor, Lieutenant Clement, said: "Gentlemen, your theoretical book work has been all planned, and by looking through your ordnance and gunnery books you can see just what it will be. For practical work during winter drill periods we will take torpedo mechanisms apart and put them together, and we'll go aboard the monitor 'Nevada' and study her turret and her guns. In the last of May a crew of first classmen from each company will go out into the bay and will fire at a regulation target with the 'Nevada's' six-pounder guns under the regular target practice conditions. Each company six-pounder crew may practice as much as it can find time to with the six-pounder gun in the armory gun shed. The head of the department instructs me to tell you that you are encouraged to make any devices or innovations so long as the gun is in no way disabled, though any suggested change must be submitted to him before firing the gun. The record made in gun-firing is entirely competitive. The crew making the best record will do a good deal toward winning the flag for the company it belongs to; a poor record will certainly defeat any such chance. Now we will proceed to our day's lesson in ballistics. Mr. Drake, take the first problem."

The drill assigned to the first company that afternoon was infantry. The drill call sounded after the last study period was over, and by four o'clock Robert was marching his company across lawns to the drill grounds. He marched them in columns of squads, changing to company front, and felt very important indeed in his position as company commander. Upon arrival at the drill grounds he ordered:

"Company – halt! Unfix bayonets. Stand at ease." Then, sheathing his sword he said: "Fellows, since I've been at the Academy the first company has always been among the best companies of the brigade. I want it to keep its reputation as such this year, and I'm sure you'll all have the same desire. The company had the honor of carrying the brigade colors a year ago, but it lost it last June by a narrow margin. You all know the company that has the best record for the year wins the flag, and carries it for the next year. The record is made up of many things, excellence in the various drills, excellence in the different forms of athletics, target practice, boat sailing, sharp-shooting, etc. Any man that does well individually in anything adds to his company's multiple and helps just that much. I'm going to do the very best I can to help win the flag for the first company. I take it for granted every one of you is with me and each will do his best for the same purpose. And we may be certain that each of the other eleven companies will do its utmost to win the colors." Bob paused.

"Company attention! Shoulder arms! Rear rank, fourth file, last squad, step to the front."

A diminutive midshipman, seemingly hardly five feet tall, but fat, happy and careless looking, assisted by some vehement whispered advice of the left guide, shambled awkwardly to the front of the company, with his rifle on his right shoulder.

"That chap over there said you meant me, mister," said the small midshipman, in an engaging manner.

"Salute," ordered Cadet Lieutenant Drake, severely.

"Certainly, mister," replied the young man, eagerly taking off his cap and bowing.

"Put on that cap. Don't you know the rifle salute? Have you had any drill? What's your name?"

"Reginald Mumma. These chaps call me Mama's Darling, mister; I wish you'd have it stopped."

"When did you enter the Academy?"

"A month ago, but I've been sick in the hospital; just got out yesterday."

"Third petty officer, fall out of line of file closers. Drill Mr. Mumma as a recruit every day this week, and whenever the company has infantry, till he can take his place in ranks. Squads right, full step, march."

CHAPTER V

A MYSTERIOUS CRY

The football season opened auspiciously for Annapolis. About fifty midshipmen were members of the football squad; these were excused from drills except on two afternoons of the week. Of those selected to play in regular games all were seasoned players, and except Bligh, all had played on the Naval Academy team the previous year. And so Stonewell and Robert and others were quite hopeful.

The head coach was Professor Danton, the field coach Gates, a famous old Yale player.

After several hard games on successive Wednesdays and Saturdays Stonewell was called into special consultation by Danton and Gates.

"Stonewell," began Gates, "I've been watching our team, and I'm convinced we have a fine lot of men here; not only good football players but real trustworthy chaps, men who will keep their promise, whose word can be depended upon."

"We don't want any other kind," replied Stonewell, thinking by Gates' manner that there was something in the wind.

"I've been trying to size up each man's character," continued Gates, "and I've decided to put personal trust in every one of them. But I will exact an individual promise of secrecy from every member of the squad for something I'm going to give them. The matter is this: I have devised a forward pass which if it isn't expected and is properly executed is practically certain to bring a touch-down to the team that works it. I've sent it to Yale, where it has been tried out in secret practice, and the people there are wild over it. I've told them I wanted to give it to the midshipmen. They don't like that idea, but it's my own play, and I can do so if I wish to. They've asked me, if I give it to the midshipmen, to take every precaution for secrecy and not to use it until after Yale plays Harvard. Annapolis plays West Point the same day that Yale meets Harvard, and you could work the trick against the soldiers. It's a beauty. Now what do you say, Stonewell?"

"We will most certainly agree to secrecy," replied Stonewell, much impressed. "I will get the individual promise you require from every member of the squad to observe entire secrecy about this play, and we'll never practice it except in secret practice and will never play it in a game until we meet West Point. Is that what you require?"

"Yes; I'll give it to you. We'll suppose our men have come down the field and are within an easy place-kick of the goal; we'll then make all preparations apparently for a goal from the field, and turn the play into a forward pass. We'll station our men as follows – " and a lot of technical football talk followed.

Stonewell was delighted. "By George," he said, "that's great! We'll work that on Franklin Field, and we'll certainly make the 'Army blue.' We'll try it to-morrow afternoon. I'll let only the first team know of it and get your required promise from them, and we'll work it on the unsuspecting second team; we'll have everybody, officers and all, kept away."

"Secret practice" for the football squad was ordered for the next day; at the beginning of the practice the first and second teams were ordered at first to keep in different parts of the field.

"What's up?" queried Harry Blunt, the ambitious quarter-back of the second team, to a group of players about him. "One would think the Only Stonewell had something up his sleeve. Come along, fellows; if we keep up our work of yesterday this team will be the first team before long."

After half an hour's practice the two teams were called together for a scrimmage. Bucking the line, running around the ends and punting were employed until the ball was fifteen yards from the second team's goal and in the possession of the first team. Then quarter-back Bligh gave the regular signal for a goal from the field. The second team knew, of course, the first team's signals, but it did not know that an apparent stumbling in the numbers he called out was a signal that the Gates forward pass was now to be played.

The first team players took their places for a goal from the field, Stonewell, as usual, dropping back, and before the second team players knew what had happened Robert Drake was sitting on the ball between the goal posts.

Everybody was crazy with delight. One would have imagined West Point had been scored upon. The play had worked perfectly. The squad was now all gathered together and was talked to by Gates and Stonewell; it was evident that Gates was well satisfied that his confidence in the midshipmen was not misplaced.

In the next few weeks this play was repeatedly practiced, and Gates was satisfied that if the midshipmen had the opportunity they would play it successfully on the day of the great West Point game.

It was Stonewell's purpose to develop the team as a whole, not individual star players. As right end Robert became famous among midshipmen for getting down the field promptly under kicks, and for tackling and downing in his tracks the opposing player who caught the ball. The two finds of the season were Bligh and Farnum. The former knew the game and played with intelligent skill. As quarter-back his position was most important and at different critical moments he ran the team with unerring judgment.

Farnum played with desperate valor. His tackling was fierce, and in running with the ball and interfering when one of his own side had it he took every chance. His impetuosity brought him into prominence as a sure ground gainer. In close places the ball was generally given to Stonewell. There was something peculiarly invigorating in Stonewell's personality. When his signal was made there was a penetrating intensity that affected every Annapolis player. The danger was in working him too much.

One Saturday early in November, Annapolis was matched against Bucknell. Bucknell had always been a formidable antagonist of the midshipmen; the year previous it had defeated them. Up to now Annapolis had not lost a game, and the midshipmen were particularly anxious to defeat Bucknell, which on this occasion had brought a stalwart lot of players. They were strong, heavy, and confident. Before the game Stonewell called Farnum aside and said: "Now, old chap, be a little careful of yourself. You are bound to get badly hurt at the rate you are going, and we want you to save yourself for the West Point game. You're going to be given the ball a good deal to-day; Bob Drake is a bit stale, and my knee is bothering me. Now look out for yourself."

"I'll try to remember, Stone," was the reply; "but when I get started I'm not apt to think of anything but the game. But I'll try to be careful."

Bucknell kicked off and Drake caught the ball. He was down the field with a tremendous start, dodging one player, smashing by another, making twenty-five yards before he was downed.

Bligh believed in quick action. The Annapolis team was lined up immediately and in a second the ball was in play. Farnum banged through the line between guard and tackle, making over fifteen yards for Annapolis.

"Take it easy, Farnum," cautioned Stonewell. In an instant Farnum had the ball again and was around the end and speeding for Bucknell's goal. Ten yards before he got there he was brought to earth with terrific violence, and he lay there still and limp.

On the side lines, leading the cheering, Glassfell was executing all kinds of crazy antics; the midshipmen on the bleachers, full of joy, shouted themselves hoarse. But poor Farnum lay there unheeded, entirely unconscious. And in vain did the appreciative midshipmen shout: "Farnum! Farnum! Farnum!" for that young man was carried off the field on a stretcher without regaining consciousness.

Two more plays, Stonewell carrying the ball, brought a touch-down to Annapolis and Stonewell kicked a goal. This was the only scoring done during the game. In vain did each team hurl itself against the other; all for nothing did prodigies of violence occur. When time was finally called the score stood Annapolis 6, Bucknell 0.

And then thoughts turned to Farnum, now in the Academy sick quarters. When questioned Surgeon Pickron looked grave and said, "Mr. Farnum has had a terrible blow on the head – he has had many recurring spasms ever since – I regard his condition as very serious."