Parades

Ninety-six days down. Four to go. Memory 97/100:

We have a practice parade tomorrow at 0700. Since I don’t live on the Yard anymore, I have to drive in—like a real person—early. I have many memories about parades, but nothing particularly exciting has happened that I recall. If you don’t know, parades for the Naval Academy are not like parades on TV during major holidays. We march, with rifles and swords, from T-Court to Worden Field. We have a few ceremonial exhibitions, some songs, and then we march off. Sometimes we have special dignitaries visiting as the reviewing party. It’s a special moment when you get to salute the Secretary of Defense.

It’s not uncommon for a mid to pass out during a parade, especially during commissioning week festivities (late parties the night before combined with standing at attention for an hour is a potent mix.) We used to fix bayonets on our rifles, but I think the passing out problem caused safety issues.

I remember one time last year as one of the company commanders (who stand out in front,) from a different company, was on the verge of passing out. While standing at attention, we all watched, making little “ooh”s and “ah”s, anticipating the face-plant in the grass. She didn’t fall, but she did hand her sword to the executive officer and take a knee. I could hear a significant mumble of disappointment throughout the immediate area.

I also remember how at most parade practices, the mids aren’t in great moods, so they generally mope around for the first few minutes. The Drill Master, a Gunnery Sergeant, fixes that right up with forty push-ups, at his cadence, for the entire brigade. It comes in fast—one minute you’re standing there with your rifle, the next you hear, “OK, seems to me like you need a little motivation. ON YOUR FACES!”

It’s an old tradition that the Firsties leave their shoes on the parade field at their final parade. It’s a tradition that has been mostly destroyed, but there are still remnants of it. It has yet to be determined how it will play out this year.