By Leon Rue, '49
The slap of several hundred rifles hitting the left hands of several hundred cadets when "Port Arms" was called.
The splash of a "cannonball" into the pool.
The rat a tat tat of my drum playing "My Old Man" along with the bugles as the batallion marched into the mess hall.
The lornful sound of Taps.
The rifle reports on the firing range.
The lush sound of Russ Carlton and his 17 piece orchestra.
The thud of my vaulting pole hitting the "box".
The "ain no mo" of the dining room servers when asked for seconds.
The swish of the officer's sabres coming out of the scabbards.
The clink of medals on my dress uniform.
The bellow of the Battalion Commander as he called for "ATENNNN-HUT".
The peal of Chatham church bells calling us to worship.
These sounds of Hargrave still echo in my mind.
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