Each summer at West Point, new cadets arrive on Reception Day (R-Day) starting their West Point experience. Perhaps a month or so before, a call goes out to the wider West Point community (spouses of faculty and staff, older teens – I was the wife of a professor in the Math Department) saying that they could help when the Firsties (Seniors) and some Cows (Juniors) had a practice run-thru for R-Day. Those who would like to participate in that project would be given instructions about when to come, what to wear and what they might expect as pretend New Cadets. Those of us who wanted to help would be treated just like the new class of cadets. The cadet cadre would be able to practice how the day might go with real people to lead.
I was fascinated with the idea, especially since my (much) younger sister would be visiting and we could both have a unique experience. Wouldn’t she be able to write a wonderful essay when she got back to school in the Fall – “What Did You Do on Your Summer Vacation?” At the time, she was a high school track star (400m, 200m hurdles, and mile relay) so I was confident that she would fit right in and master all the requirements. As a mother of a toddler, I wasn’t so sure of my own ability to do any pull-ups or many push-ups, but I was willing to try. And my sister was excited about the possibility of testing her grit.
We reported at the designated time and place after dropping my two-year-old daughter off at the babysitter. We didn’t know what to expect, though I had heard about the three responses and a few other tiny details having been around West Point graduates for many years by that time. Three responses? New Cadets quickly learned that during that first day, they could only speak when spoken to with these three responses: “Yes, Sir”, “No, Sir.” “No excuse, Sir.” By the time of my New Cadet experience, there were five responses; two had been added since 1969, “Sir, may I ask a question?” “Sir, I do not know.” I was prepared for the three responses, but it was such a scary day, that it was hard to remember the exact words of each of the new responses – I wished there were only three responses; I could remember those! Did not want to get in trouble.
After a greeting from the Superintendent (since it was the practice day, it was some other authority in his place), new cadets were then sent on a sort of obstacle course going from one station to another to get whatever a new cadet would need to get through the next few weeks. In small groups (squad size), we would learn to march in a single file wherever we were led and never speak until spoken to.
My sister and I were separated as soon as we arrived. We were on our own like the real new cadets who wouldn’t know anyone nor what was happening. I went along following the cadet before me one station after the next. Towards noon, we headed towards the gym for a physical test. Oh, no! Just as my squad entered the gym, I heard my name called, “New Cadet Rice, report to your squad leader.” What? (I didn’t say it – not a response.) I did as I was told, “Yes, Sir.” I was handed a slip of paper saying that New Cadet Smith (my sister) had broken her ankle and I should take her home. I was directed to where I could find her. What happened? Nothing! She had been handed a similar note that said she have broken her ankle and she must leave – this was an exercise to see how the cadre would handle such an occurrence on the real R-Day. I was happy that I didn’t have to display my pathetic physical skills, but I was sad that my sister had somehow been chosen to “break her ankle”. She would have loved to try to complete the course.
Years later, our own son would be a new cadet. It was twenty-five years since my own experience, but I clearly remembered the concern I felt when I was a “New Cadet” on the practice day so many years before (I could go home; he could not!). It is hard for any parent to say the last goodbye (a new cadet has ninety seconds to make his goodbyes on that fateful day). Most parents had no idea what lay ahead for their New Cadet; maybe, that is better. Bill and I each knew the pressures that were coming after our family goodbye.
Bill had warned our son to keep his eyes straight ahead, follow the guy before him, don’t call attention to yourself – blend in. On the R-Day of 2006, families were allowed to roam around West Point after their goodbyes. We were to avoid the cadet area but were encouraged to stay for the Oath Ceremony later that afternoon where the New Cadets would make the following promise: I, (name), do solemnly swear that I will support the Constitution of the United States, and bear true allegiance to the National Government; that I will maintain and defend the sovereignty of the United States, paramount to any and all allegiance, sovereignty, or fealty I may owe to any State or Country whatsoever; and that I will at all times obey the legal orders of my superior officers, and the Uniform Code of Military Justice.
At some point in the day, Bill decided to take us to the Cadet Store, which, though we had to walk through the cadet area, was allowed for parents and families on that day. We walked past a squad of New Cadets that was waiting outside the barber shop. Since we all heard the same directions to keep our eyes straight ahead, we intentionally walked as quickly as possible past the squad of newly-shorn new cadets – don’t distract them; don’t look at them. Don’t get close. Don’t smile at them.
About a week later when we had returned to GA, our son was able to make his first phone call home. First words out of his mouth were, “Did you see me?” Of course, we eventually found him at the Oath Ceremony; it had been hard to find him. “No, not then.” When? “You walked right past me! I could have reached out and touched you!” When? How was that possible? Turns out he was one of the newly-shorn cadets outside the barber shop. Even if we had looked closely, we may not have recognized him – no hair and with newly-acquired Army glasses on his nose; contacts were gone. He was transformed into a cadet in only a few hours.
One thing, I was happy about was that we pretend cadets didn’t have to make a trip to the barber shop; not sure how I would have looked with no hair!
Great story, Suzanne. Your memory is amazing. During your time as a new cadet, I doubt the barbers needed the practice of buzzing the cadets.
Hi! Phil. On my pretend R-Day, I didn’t think I had a very good memory since I couldn’t remember two extra responses!
Suzanne, I didn’t realize they had a “practice” for R Day. What an experience for you and your sister!
I remember the day when we dropped our son, Rob, off at the Air Force Academy in the summer of 1990. I was so very proud and Mike was so very nervous and anxious for him knowing first hand what was to just about begin.
I’m not sure when the practice R-Day started, but it was an amazing experience that I’d glad I tried. You must be so proud of Rob. Bill and Mike had the same reaction to R-Day for their sons – they knew too much! Nice to hear from you.
Cool experience. Thanks for sharing. A special thanks for encouraging your son to follow in Bill’s footsteps.
Thank you, Pete. We didn’t overtly steer him to West Point or to the Field Artillery that we knew of. He did live in a house where in the family room were hung a series of prints of historical field artillery scenes from WWI to MLRS. On facing walls of that same room were prints given us by Bill’s battalion staff as he left the battalion: they were opposing sides of the battle of Gettysburg. Do you suppose he might have been influenced by the scenes of heroism remembered in those prints?
Dear Suzanne:
Thanks for your wonderful story. Back in ’69’s day, I remember my time as a new cow squad leader on First Beast (summer of ’67). I’m not positive, but I don’t believe we had any substantial help from anyone outside the Corps for R-Day practice, which would explain my being recruited to play a new cadet candidate the evening before R-Day. In preparation, I recalled a particular soldier who had taught us the “Snip-Snap-Snare” (at least that’s how I remembered it) the summer before at Camp Buckner. As excellent as the soldier was in his instruction, learning from him was a little difficult, as he spoke with a distinctive (southern?) nasal twang that provoked near constant but suppressed smirks from his audience. What better character, I thought, to portray as a new cadet candidate to challenge my fellow classmates in preparation for R-Day. Sure enough, that evening my character drew swarms of classmates trying to correct me, all the while trying to mightily suppress their amused consternation as I gave my three (or four: “Sir I do not know.”) answers in my best nasal twang! 🙂
Thanks again for your story and for evoking a cherished memory!
Best regards & BOTL,
Bill
What a great memory, Bill. Thanks for sharing it. I’d liked to have been a fly on the wall for your performance.
New Cadet Rice, “At ease!”
That was fun to read. So many things for the cadets to remember. How fitting that you should be a “practice” cadet. What an experience!
“Yes, Ma’am!” Thank you. It was a unique experience.
Suzanne — What a great story — thanks for sharing! 1 July 1965 will be seared into my mind until the day I die! I was one of those unfortunate New Cadets who arrived completely clueless about what was about to happen! My excitement about becoming a West Point Cadet was quickly transformed into shock & confusion supplemented with a healthy dose of uncertainty about what I had gotten myself into! I never would have believed at the time that I would become grateful for the experience! Thanks for the reminder!!!
I’m thinking that many others are clueless, even today, about what it really means to be a New Cadet. I was glad that I could go home. Can’t imagine how you all felt as the day went on knowing you were going to stay. Thanks for sharing your story, Ted.
Thanks, Suzanne
I have a bit of a funny story about R-day, in 1967. We were new cows, and I was assigned to a New Cadet Company as a company training corporal, so I didn’t have my own squad that I had to train on that day. So, as the evening approached, and all the plebes were shaven and uniformed up for the swearing in ceremony, our company formed up facing the stoops. The company commander faced the plebes and reminded them that they were about to be sworn in, and become members of the corps, and if anyone had any doubts, that that would be the time to decide.
Well, right in the middle of the company formation, there was a shout and jostling and pushing, and one of the plebes was yelling, “That’s it! I quit! I never wanted to do this!” He worked his way to the front of the formation, and said that he wanted out! The company commander calmly called over to me, “Mr. Legere, please escort this man back to his room, to retrieve his civilian clothes, and escort him out”. So, I just had the plebe show me his room, and I sat on a bed while he just dropped his uniforms and put his civvies back on. Then, I led him to the entrance of the barracks, and wished him good luck, and watched him walk away. Shortest time as a cadet, ever!
Wow! What a memory. Thanks for sharing it, John. What an amazingly short cadet career.
A most entertaining story, Suzanne. I had no idea such “dress rehearsals” were conducted. Back in our day, we reported to “the man in the red sash”. I guess nowadays that’s different.
The one specific thing I remember most vividly the day my parents drove me through the main gate, when initially reporting, was the song playing on the New York radio station WABC – ‘Cara Mia’ by Jay & the Americans. To this day when I hear that song, I think of that event.
We fake cadets had to report to the man in the red sash, too. I don’t know when the practice day started or if it continues today. I wonder how many parents drove their new cadet in 1965. Bill got on a plane alone in St. Louis and had to make his way to West Point from JFK airport. That adventure might have been enough to make me want to go right back home before even getting to Highland Falls!
I grew up in a northern New Jersey suburban town, Ridgefield, which was about an hour away from USMA, & which we had visited several times. My cousin Robert Mischak was in the class of ’54, so we were familiar with the school.
Thanks, Suzanne, wonderful memories! Some of my memories from Beast are still buried and I’ll leave them there. So glad you recounted Christopher’s experience, too!
Suzanne, Great story and excellent timing, coinciding with R-day for ’26. The dress rehearsal you were part of sounds like a great idea. Anyone know whether West Point still does that?
Such a delightful story, Suzanne! I, too, was a phony New Cadet. What an experience. I was so glad I could go home at the end of day. Weren’t we presented with some kind of a certificate stating we had completed the West Point short course?
Suzanne, that is a great story. Thanks. Sorry your and your sister’s “R-day” was cut short. Actually, I was relieved to hear it was a fake injury. My recall of 1 July 1965 is that at least one person experiencing a broken bone would not be surprising.
My home was 130 miles from West Point. My parents and I made the drive the day before and I stayed in the dorm in the Thayer. It was there that I had an inkling of how unprepared I was for what was about to happen. There were classmates who had old Bugle Notes and they were studying. I wondered why they were spending their last night memorizing that crazy stuff.
I fear my recall of R-Day is inaccurate. I do not remember a welcome ceremony where the Supe spoke, but I thought my parents went to an orientation session after we separated. They accompanied me to a building (?the gymnasium or Thayer Hall) that had a huge wooden door. As soon-to-be New Cadets said their good byes, they would crack the door and enter a new life. The cacophony behind the door was otherworldly. I remember looking at my Mom and realizing she was thinking, “What has he gotten himself into?!” So is this my hallucination or can someone else confirm?
Fun story ,sorry you could not complete the day!
Thanks for the wonderful story and the opportunity to reflect upon the memories of our R day on 1 July 1965. That was eons ago. The trip up from Brooklyn could not end quick enough. I remember the NCO telling us to look around because it would be the last chance to do so. He was spot on. I still remember having to report to the man in the Red Sash and the 1st Sergeant of the first new cadet company for the first time. Thanks again for bringing back those memories.
Thanks Suzanne.
My last R day was 1992 manning the orthopedic station. One new cadet recruited for football and soccer had pain in his anatomical snuff box a telltale sign of a scaphoid fracture. I sent him for X-rays and indeed he had one. I called Jim Sikket the chief Tac of Beast and we decided that treatment could be delayed until after Beast Barracks. He ended up due to casting being turned back a semester. This enabled him to kick the winning field goal in December 96! Had it not been for that he would have graduated with his class in May. Sort of like “ for want of a nail the shoe was lost” we all know these what ifs.
Suzanne,
That was a great story, thanks for sharing it. Someone else asked and I wonder too if they still have the kind of practice that you wrote about. As I was reading the beginning of your story I expected you to say that your sister ended up going to West Point.
I had been to UNC for a year before going to West Point. While there I made good friends with a guy from Terrytown, NY. So I actually flew up to New York City the week before R-Day and spent a few days with him, which included a day at the New York World’s Fair. Then on R-Day he drove me up and dropped me off at the Gym if I remember right. There is so much about all of my West Point experiences that is a 50+ year old blur now.