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Brace Up, Mister!
August, 1976. U.S. Naval Academy. After Plebe Summer but before the
academic year started. After losing 20 pounds. However, triumphant,
since the firsties had failed in their attempts to kick me out. But it
wasn't over yet. Plebe year promised tortures undreamed of as the
Brigade returned, the second-classmen (juniors) coming back from
cruise, the youngers (sophomores) back from their cruises with their
new and untried status as upperclassmen, and firsties we'd never seen
before. We'd cringed in terror of the Brigade coming back. "You'd
better take a strain, you wimps!" the firsties would scream. "You
think we're bad? Wait till the Brigade comes back! Then you'll know
what misery is! We're the good guys! The second-classmen will roast
your asses for lunch!" The Brigade came back with fanfare as we plebes
were joined in ranks by the upperclass midshipmen we'd never seen. But
we realized we'd been deceived. The youngsters were mellow, the
second-classmen were burned out, and the firsties who had not trained
plebes didn't for a reason - they didn't care. September brought the
peace of upperclassmen who let us slide - except now academics bore
down on us. We should have feared the professors. That first semester
had only one highlight as my roommate, Robert Oxborrow (later to become
an aviation test engineer), played a prank on our firsties at
Halloween. On Halloween, the dreaded firsties would come around for
candy. Oxborrow's squad leader, who had taken a solemn oath to haze
Oxy out of the Academy, decided that Halloween was an occasion to bury
the hatchet, and like the other firsties, he came by shouting, "trick
or treat!" What he got from Oxy was a bag of peanut M&Ms surgically
opened and emptied of half the candy with a dead mouse found on the
deck inserted inside, then carefully glued back together. Oxy couldn't
resist putting his signature on the gift, saying something like, "Enjoy
the M&M's, sir." Within ten minutes the shriek echoed down the hall as
the firstie (later accounts insisted) poured the contents of the bag
into his face and had the rear legs and tail of the corpse sticking out
of his mouth. If Oxy had it bad before, it was nothing to what he had
to put up with until the very hour the Class of 77 finally graduated.
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