I hadn't experienced much of the world. I read a lot, but mostly escape novels and unrealistic romantic fantasies such as "Kim" and "Treasure Island". Read the classic poems and such in high school lit classes, but that was just "book learning" and I had nothing in the way of any real-world experience.
I didn't know my way around social gatherings, didn't know what to do with female companions much less about how to act on a date since I had not really been on any.
I didn't know how to treat a bully since I hadn't been bullied after the initial getting acclimated stage when I first arrived.
I didn't know. Period. I was a lost, dumb, nearly innocent, totally naive country bumkin lost in the great big world that had been squeezed into the microcosm of plebe year.
This was also 1969, four years after the signing of the civil rights act. Before Nixon's "affirmative action" initiatives in the early 70's. Time of Viet Nam and the expanding war far across the sea. Time of the Viet Cong and "Charlies".
It was not a good time to be an Oriental at the bastion of American Maleness.
Yep, I had stepped into a big, big shithole of a social situation, at least for me.
Once the brigade came back, there were several firsties in my company who were not happy to have a "Charlie" in their company. They decided that I had to go. It was a contest for them to see how many gigs I could get. I had infinite time infinite "come arounds" and I was constantly braced up, with my chin stuck to the back of my throat. I did the best I could. Stayed up late to work on my uniforms, helping my roommates with theirs. Shining shoes, belt buckles, cold ironing uniforms, cleaning the room and shining the floors. The first few months were hectic and endless.
Then, toward Christmas, things began to settle down. A few of the upperclassmen took pity and backed off. Several became helpful. And Christmas break finally came.
I begged a ride to the Baltimore bus terminal and got a Greyhound bus to Danville. I arrived at the bus terminal with my ditty bag, dressed in my Middie dress uniform and walked home the 10 blocks. I arrived home, walked in the door, and well, you could hear a pin drop. Nothing. Not a hello, not a welcome home. I took my stuff upstairs to my "bed", the little cot I had slept on. I changed my clothes and went out for a long walk.
My dear friend, Dr. Ritmiller had died while I was away at school. So I lost a mentor. I took his dog Misty out for a walk.
And, not much else. There was little joy in "Mudville" that winter. And, I got a ride back to the Academy and a better life after the brief respite from Plebe Year.
January brought the "Dark Ages" when the sun came up late and set early. The cold winter weather settled in and the harassment slowed a lot. I had time to study and had above a 3.0 for the first semester. Overall, I was getting by, but just barely.
Spring break came and a classmate invited me to come with him to his house on Long Island. I accepted since there was nothing to go "home" to in Danville.
I met his beautiful, energetic and vivacious sister. Remeber that I was a social dunce? Yeah, that hadn't changed and so even though his sister tried to befriend me, I was clueless and lost.
Didn't know what to do and how to handle such a beautiful girl. Oh, what could have been!!!
Soon, the Plebes were "secured", unofficially ending the harassments and come arounds, the late night grillings, unofficial taskings, and whatnots. Spring came, Herndon monument was climbed,
thus ending Plebe Year, and the grand graduation sent all the Firsties off to their careers. We were finally, officially no longer Plebes, but Youngsters now.
And Youngster cruise awaited us.
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