,bound by shared miseries and accom-
plishments.
Things may ease off slightly at the end
of Plebe Summer, but the grueling routine
of constant physical and mental testing
continues throughout a plebe's first year
at the Academy.
Anne-Barbara Slemrod of Glastanbury,
„Conn., the only female Jewish freshman
this year, goes through what can be
- described as a typical plebe day. She rises
to the sound of reveille at 5:30 a.m. (On
some days, upperclassmen accompany the
bugle notes with the helpful reminder, "It's
another day in which to excel.") Fifteen
- -minutes later, she is at "PEP" (physical
education program), for a strenuous work-
out of calisthenics and running Then she
attends an informal formation at 7:15 and
goes to breakfast at 7:25.
After breakfast, (and any other time
Slemrod is in the halls), she has to run
-- "chop," which means not only that she
must run, but that she must square all cor-
ners, or doubletime at right angles around
turns in the dormitory corridors. While
chopping, she is also required to shout
"rates," i.e., hefty excerpts from a mountain
of trivia. Rates include knowing all of a
booklet on Academy history and customs
(to be recited verbatim), plus two daily
newspaper stories (front page or sports
items), plus the menu two meals ahead, the
officers of the watch, the uniform of the
day, the names and hometowns of all other
—plebes in the squadron, and a heap of
minutia (i.e., how many windows in Ban-
croft Hall). Thrice a day upperclassmen
quiz her on her rates at "come arounds"
and conduct meticulous room inspections
with a white glove to detect dust and a
black sock to ferret out soap scum in the
shower.
After doing the morning corridors, Mid-
shipman Slemrod attends four academic
periods followed by a formal, noon-meal
formation and lunch. She attends two more
classes in the afternoon, athletics from
3:30-6 pm, dinner, and study hours from
8-11 p.m.. Unless "late lights" are granted,
- she gets a full six and one-half hours of
sleep nightly.
Few civilians know about, or feel comfor-
table with, the military life style. Fewer
Jews think of military officer training as
synonymous with a college education. But
the Academy currently has 46 Jewish mid-
shipmen (about one percent of the Acad-
emy's student population), eleven of whom
have survived Plebe Summer 1986. They're
mighty proud of it, too.
Meeting these midshipmen on a recent
autumn afternoon, it was easy to under-
tand that pride. As noon-meal formation
assembled in front of Bancroft Hall, golden
leaves and a crisp breeze provided the
perfect backdrop to marching lines of dark
uniforms and white caps. The air reverber-
ated with sharp drum rolls. What a spec-
tacle of unity and tradition. A sea of voices,
raised as one, chanted the hallowed cry,
"Go Navy, beat Army."
Then 4,600 midshipmen amassed for
lunch in one huge hall and were all served
within three minutes. The atmosphere dur-
ing the meal was charged, a strange con-
trast to the cool discipline of formation. In
one area, a student briefed his tablemates
from weapons systems charts, part of the
plebes' daily rates. At another table, fist-
pounding and napkin-throwing erupted.
Elsewhere, individuals and small groups of
men and women spontaneously stood on
their chairs to yell or sing as loud as they
could. "I'm testing my lungs for the honor
0
E
--
Nava l Aca demy Photo
The U.S. Naval Academy in Annapolis, seen from the
bay side, covers 329 acres. The academy was
designated a U.S. National Historic Landmark in 1963.
of the 31st company, the most spirited in
the brigade," bellowed one eager soul, while
others sang football songs or screamed
slightly lewd ditties with similarly com-
petitive themes. As usual, plebes are
singled out for special treatment, even at
meals. They must sit erect and, depending
on how strict the squadron leader is, may
be required to cite rates after just three
chews and a swallow. Occasionally, at the
bidding of upperclassmen, plebes also have
to perform skits.
In their few free minutes after lunch,
some of the Jewish plebes gathered to
answer questions. Asked if they ever
resented the constant drilling on minutia,
they replied spunkily, "Plebes have been
doing it for 150 years. The upperclassmen
did it, and if they can get through it, we
can." A lot of what they're required to
know, they stressed, would be important
professionally. As for the trivia, it took five
or ten minutes to memorize menus at first,
but now only a few seconds. "Breakfast is
the easiest," they agree, "it's always the
same." And what if they don't have the
answers when the upperclassmen come
calling? "If you didn't know it the last time
and you were asked to find out and you still
didn't know it," the plebes explained, "then
they can 'fry' you." Pressed to decode "fry,"
their serious demeanors cracked into big
smiles. "Why, they put you in a conduct
report. You can lose your liberty and march
around in circles on Sundays."
After graduating and commissioning, the new Navy ensigns and Marine Corps second lieutenants toss their middie hats into the air.
15