Translated from the French Le Journal d'un Aspirant
I was dining recently at a club in France much frequented by the officers of the army and navy. At my table were seated six officers of the French Navy, all of the rank of commander or above. With the exception of my host, none of the officers knew that I had ever been in the United States Navy, so that when the subject of the recent notes between our country and Germany in reference to the sinking of our ships and the drowning of our citizens, was being discussed, they spoke very freely about the condition of our navy. One commander was especially critical of our service and of the method of training midshipmen at the Naval Academy. Some of his statements were so much in error and so ridiculous to one having even a slight knowledge of the course pursued at Annapolis, that I finally asked him upon what information he based his extraordinary remarks. He replied that a friend of his, an officer in their navy, had visited Annapolis, had thoroughly inspected the Naval Academy, and had talked to the midshipmen in regard to the courses of study pursued and to the amount of time devoted to them. He had made accurate notes of prevailing conditions, and had upon his return written a book of impression with an entire chapter devoted exclusively to the Naval Academy. As further proof he sent to his hotel for the book and later pointed out passages to me which seemed to justify his previous statements. He loaned me the book and upon my return home I sat down to read it.
The chapter on the Naval Academy had been written from notes made in a diary during a visit to Annapolis by the French training ship when the writer was a midshipman. It had not been written, however, until some four or five years later, and, when we consider that, as a rule, the French midshipman is much older than our own, we may assume that the opinions are those of a young officer of 25 or more, and are not likely to subsequent change. In other words, it was not the idle vaporings of a midshipman.
It was apparent at a glance that the midshipmen at the academy had been engaged in their favorite amusement of " stringing " the visitors, and that in this instance it had led to unfortunate results.
It is difficult to say how many French officers have received their sole impression of our academy training from this book, but at least the officers at this dinner have, and in spite of my most strenuous efforts they are still unconvinced that conditions are otherwise.
In order to gauge the caliber of the writer more accurately, I read the entire book and I am forced to admit that his impressions of Washington, Baltimore, New York and other cities with which I am more or less familiar are exceedingly fair and impartial. It is evident, then, that the false impressions received at Annapolis must be put down solely to the fault of the midshipmen—to my own class, I regret to say, for we were first classmen at that time and were detailed to entertain the visiting midshipmen. I remember the visit very plainly—even to the smuggled whiskey and the following results. Had the writer been in the starboard watch which visited us the second day, his impressions would have been different—the whiskey had vanished and even the glasses had been sacrificed in toasts to the President of France.
ANNAPOLIS ROADS, April 21, 19-.
The sun is shining brilliantly from a cloudless sky but a cold north wind is blowing which cuts the face like glass. To .go to that long, low coast which lies ahead of us and which apparently contains nothing of especial interest, one must take passage in an open boat and be drenched through with cold, salt spray. No, I'll light my pipe and spend the afternoon in dreaming or in sleep.
However, at 11 o'clock orders came for the port watch to go ashore where the American midshipmen were waiting to show us about their Naval Academy. There was no way of escaping so we resigned ourselves to our fate. Afterwards I did not regret having gone. After an hour's hard pull on the muddy water of the bay we arrived in a small cove in which was anchored ships and boats of every description, of all types and of all epochs—bare decked monitors of Civil War days, dispatch boats from the last Cuban War, pleasure yachts transformed into scouts by the addition of one or two rapid fire guns. One of these yachts had had its mizzen completely carried away by a Spanish shell. The damage had not been repaired and it remained as a relic which was pointed out to us with great pride by the naval cadets. The cadets were waiting for us at the landing and received us pleasantly, though rather coldly, being a little stiff both in bearing and in conversation. They then took us on a trip about their beautiful school. But they have not found it sufficiently magnificent and imposing, so are constructing another one which is to cost a much greater number of dollars. Excelsior semper—that is the American motto. We who wish a school on land would gladly take the present one. We passed along gravelled walks, which cut through a large lawn bordered with trees, where a section of cadets was drilling to the sound of a bugle and a drum. Singular idea, this handling arms to music. It made me think of a circus parade. At the right of the park are the houses of the officers and the professors. Then came the buildings of the school, large, new, and superb. We asked why they were to change them, and were told that these were not sufficiently monumental, they did not impress the stranger with the idea of overwhelming magnificence. However, they are the halls of palaces, large, high and bright, with great window frames and light shades, and with wainscoting of polished teak. In turn we inspected the drill hall, library, gymnasium, and a very complete machine shop. All of these buildings are well heated, well lighted and are kept marvelously clean. In comparison with these even the best kept of our establishments resemble a nest of rats. We next entered the large living quarters of the students and passed along the great white corridor where a cadet with sword and gloves paced back and forth on duty. We received an impression of military bearing and of discipline which we did not expect from our memories of the old Monongahela. The students are comfortably lodged, two in a room. Smoking and the use of intoxicating liquors is absolutely forbidden. At 10 in the evening the officer on duty pulls a switch and extinguishes the lights. These are the only juvenile rules in force. Furthermore, following the Anglo-Saxon system, they are left to their .own consciences like men. There is no surveillance by the officers, the strongest and the oldest among the cadets are responsible for the discipline.
There is a certain number of examinations provided during the course of the year, but the students are left free to prepare for them when and how they please. The compulsory study of our naval school and the time required to be devoted to a prescribed subject appears to be undreamed of here. The surreptitious breaking of rules and regulations, so highly developed and so glorified in at our school on account of the small, mean ways of the constantly nagging authorities, is here almost unknown. To-day, in one hour, whiskey and cigarettes have been smuggled in—but this is a grand debauche. They also brought in some magazines with pictures showing women in the garb of Eve, but how innocent these were compared to even the less improper of our illustrated papers! Yet when the cadets looked at these they had the same smiles and winks that we would have had some three or four years ago. Some of them would now and then make a coarse or vulgar joke but they were the exception. As a rule they were remarkably reserved upon the subject of women. The inborn respect which they have for women, developed by their custom of associating so much with girls—"spooning," they call it—is, perhaps, one of the causes of this reserve. In their lockers many of them have photographs of their sweethearts. These young ladies are allowed to come visit them and to walk with them about the grounds. The great amount of time that the cadets devote to outdoor sports also contributes to a great extent to keep frivolous or unclean thought out of their minds.
Besides the regular teams, carefully drilled and trained, which hold up the reputation and fame of the school, every cadet goes in for some form of sport and practices with great enthusiasm. We .saw a practice game of football. The officers and students—pell-mell in the crowd. One sees only a tangle of arms, legs, feet, heads and torn sweaters, kicking and being kicked at or knocked down in a squirming heap. In these sports class standing disappears. A cadet may be worthless as a student, yet if he is the captain of a team his prestige is far greater than that of the man who stands first in his class at our schools. Lately, when the football team won in a game over their great rivals—West Point—the ovation which they received upon their return could not have been greater had they been the victors at Santiago. Each player was pointed put to us as he passed as a great hero. They engage in about 10 different branches of sport with a full team for each. The Players devote almost their entire time to practice and it is a marvel how they can learn even the rudiments absolutely necessary in their future careers. The administration takes care of these teams with special tenderness. They have their own mess hall, drink nothing but water, and are fed on red meat, especially prepared. It is not difficult to understand why these teams are so well looked after—they are the Academy's best advertisement!
The mess halls of the school are scrupulously clean and furnished almost with luxury. Paintings of their sea heroes hang from the walls, and every detail gives the impression that the school is being made as attractive and home-like as possible so that the cadets will not feel as if they are in prison, without comfort and without liberty, but in a happy home where the student can work with pleasure. So that, although they have to remain four years there, the time does not seem so long as in our school, where after two years we are deadly tired of it.
We completed our inspection at the Court of Honor, where all of the cannon captured from the enemy in various wars have been arranged. We saw several old Spanish guns dating from the 16th and 17th centuries, of a greenish bronze, which are very beautiful. In the bay we saw the crews at practice in their long, narrow shells which fairly fly over the smooth water under the impulse of the spoon oars manned by husky looking cadets in bright sweaters, their naked limbs taking on a deep pink glow in the cool evening air. A submarine was playing about them like a madcap dolphin, while here and there trim-looking sail-boats were gliding back and forth across the bay.
This visit to the Naval Academy has given us food for deep thought and we have held many long discussions on board concerning it. For many years in France, the subject of a naval school on shore has been discussed, but always laughed at by the "profaners," those whom we call in naval slang "the elephants." We can now point to Annapolis as a naval school working perfectly—although on shore. The cadets have land with plenty of space in which to breath freely and to take exercises with the restful background of trees and lawn, instead of eternally going around in a cage, such as the Borda. And close at hand there is the bay for drills and maneuvers on water. From the technical point of view there is the advantage of having plenty of room for the construction of work shops, laboratories and model rooms, which are infinitely better for the instruction of cadets than any number of drawings or even of model machines which are usually stored away in a remote corner between decks. There, while the professor is instructing a class, he can demonstrate with all the different pieces of machinery; if he speaks of a connecting rod, a crank, or a screw, each student can examine this piece at leisure instead of having to draw solely from his imagination. Their laboratories of physics, chemistry, and electricity are simply wonderful, and are splendid examples of all the facilities to be had on shore. Of course it would be a great mistake to imitate them absolutely, as different temperaments and different customs must be taken into consideration. One may criticise the amount of time that they devote to sports. But it is difficult to say which system is better—to spend two hours in hard study after having spent one's overflow of energy in outdoor exercise, or to sit for four hours doing the same amount of work, and waste half of it in dreaming which is the usual result of our intense overwork.
We may also make any amount of fun of the calls and visits that the cadets receive from their "flirts," and my readers may say what they please, but it cannot be denied that it is an excellent method of education. Although Americans are supposed to be lacking in culture, they are far from despising this quality. Perhaps without his "sweetheart" the American youth would grow up coarse and uncouth, but "she" polishes his manners, his language, develops his intelligence and helps him to become a gentleman. Besides, every human being needs affection and tenderness. Take away from a man or a boy this moral pleasure and he will invariably develop in a coarser strain. The American education is far more rational and progressive than ours. At Annapolis, one becomes accustomed to the actual conditions of normal existence instead of being separated from them. The education is almost too practical, as only the rudiments of knowledge—other than technical—are required. The cadets have generally the most elementary notions in regard to history, literature, etc. Here is an example of it. As we were passing a group of guns taken from the Spanish, one of our cadets noticed a gun with a "fleur de Lys" and a Latin inscription. Our hosts had shown such ingenuous pride in pointing out their captured trophies that my classmate asked if the gun had been captured from Louis XIV. "Certainly," replied the American cadet, and I am sure that he would have been most surprised had he been told that Louis XIV was a king of France, and that his reply could have hurt our feelings; as it was, we were only amused.
After all, this ignorance may be useful for it helps them to believe that no country has ever been so grand and so powerful as their own, and that they may aspire with absolute conviction to the conquest of the world; and it is not impossible that these ideas may help to a great extent in making them successful.