A Freshman Writes Home

Letters Written Last Year By Member of Class of '43; First Installment Describes the Fall Season

MOST OF US have probably forgotten how we felt about Dartmouth during our first year when life was fresh and green, when our enthusiasm was thoroughly spontaneous, when we lived comparatively free from cares, except, perhaps, as to whether or not we would be able to get that "date," or whether we could possibly get better than a C plus on a freshman theme, or get by Latin 5 or Geology 1, or whether we would make the "competition." We've forgotten how thrilled we were when we saw for the first time a Big Green team charge down the field, and how good it was to get home to "Mom" and Dad during vacations, and how proud we were at being a Dartmouth man at last. What a thrill it was to use stationery with a green Indian head at the top, and we've lost track of many other incidents which made the college year so much fun.

The following letters are those of a freshman of the class of 1943, who will, for the time being at least, remain anonymous. They were written last year with no thought of publication, and as the reader will soon note are thoroughly youthful, artless, and even at times quite naive, but they reflect a generous spirit, and they were written by a good son.

The editors feel that they may recall for alumni a moment, a mood—a memory

which one, in these days of war and depre sion, may well be glad to recall; they should bring back a brave new world, a world fun, innocence, pride, a world of ne learning and joy in intellectual curiosi They show, too, the beginning and grow of what we call the "Dartmouth spirit Let us say, then, that the letters are this of a wide-awake, alert, decent kid who one of 700 Dartmouth freshmen. Tit have no great literary distinction, if an but they are sincere and spontaneous on si pourings of a boy we all have known, an ii the editors hope that you will enjoy rea ing them. Our long forgotten selves an here.

They will be issued in several install ments. It has not been possible, and pes haps is not desirable, to publish them; toto. The editor has selected significai passages, has, when it seemed necessaiL

changed names and places, but he has n changed the wording or spelling of any le ter as he believes that the value of the te ters is enhanced by their genuineness, lir that they should be published as writte

The boy comes from New England, at his father is a Dartmouth alumnus.

Sept. 16, 1940. I801 New HampMDartmouth.

Dear Mom, Dad, and Duke,

Found out quite a bit about myself afternoon when I took my physical example The exam is really thorough with a cap® "T."

After getting myself over-hauled I were out to the club where it took me abo three minutes to become a member. By way, Dad, it's 2 bucks more for locker I don't think I need one maybe. I play the first time, but badly!

When I got back to the dorm I four Johnny who was in the process of unpad ing. He's a pretty swell guy. He contributions to the room are swell, maybe I don't myself! Really, Mom,

room looks great! Johnny has a rug on the way tomorrow and so Dad doesn't have to fear. Johnny apparently hadn't noticed the fireplace and he got the pleasantest shock af his life when I showed him our equipment.

We started out for supper tonight when we were stopped by a couple of '43's who wanted to know where the gym was. We old them and then asked what was going in. It seems that the D. O. C. was staging

1 big informal '43 rally and so we forgot our stomaches and beat it over. It was the regular "Dartmouth Spirit" rally and Asst. Dean Chamberlain told the old standby about the Dartmouth Ambulance Corps and I laughed just as hard as the first time heard it. It was great!

This letter is being systematically interrupted by a guy trying desperately to sell me the New York Times which he assures me will be of inestimable value to me in Socy. Maybe, but phooey!

A big gun on the ski team spoke and both talks were followed by movies. The whole rally was topped off by eats and then Johnny and I went out to eat. After I got back I lugged a couple of boxes for a guy who also wanted to sell me a Biology book. Right now someone is yelling '43! I look at Johnny and he says "sh," maybe they won't Stop here. Well, so far it's great, it's swell, it's Dartmouth!

Sept. 19, 1939-

Dear Mom, Dad, and Duke

I have found (i) that God blesses the ftniors (2) that God blesses the juniors (3) that God blesses the sophomores. P.S. God does not bless nor even consider the Freshmen.

Stan, Johnny and myself all tripped gaily over to breakfast this morning and emerging in a happy mood, decided that we really ought to purchase our freshman hats now. And so we did. And so I rue the day, the hour, and the very thought.

As we neared the Ad. Building the ringing and challenging call of " '43"! impressed itself on our ears. Next stop was the Sigma Nu or Pnu or something house, which if nothing else, is a very long way from Topliff. And so, of course, we carried the contents of a gentleman's (?) room over to Topliff.

My roomate has not too much sales resistance. A Boston Herald salesman has just persuaded him to cancel his New YorkTimes subscription. The Herald is tricky. It throws in a Dartmouth banner if you buy.

Tonight was the first night that I worked in Commons. It was quite a meal. If the guys at my table got what they wanted it wasn't my fault.

As for gym, I have successfully swum enough yards and completed enough pushups and chinnings so that I am a cinch for a varsity berth on the checker team.

Hopefully yours, Son.

801 New Hamp.Dartmouth College.

Dear Mom, Dad, and Duke,

Victory of Victories! The sophs are completely humbled. The rush had hardly got started when three of the five footballs were resting peacefully on the far side of the field. One more went over before the rush ended, and following the massacre several group fights resulted in the further humility of the Class '42. Beautiful result: no more playing "Little Eva over the Garden Wall," of which Dad may or may not know.

I tried out for band today. The instructor certainly knew his stuff, but he couldn't quite phase me. The notice of accepted members will be posted tomorrow night.

Everything swell so far. (Books cost too damn much!!!),

Sept. 25,—Night

Dear Mom, Dad, and Duke

I'm in! The Dartmouth Band of which I am now a full-fledged member, held its first rehearsal this evening across the street in Bartlett Hall. The schedule for rehearsals and drill practice looks pretty full at the present, but it may taper off. I have to buy a sweater at the co-op. It'll probably cost $5. However, I can probably pay for it by selling the stubs in my tax book.

I don't know just how working and playing in the band will work out, but there is some way which you can get substitutes to work for you. Anyway, I'll be marching right down the middle of that old field at Cambridge come Oct. 28!

Yesterday I wrote my first English theme which was in the form of an autobiography. Sort of a wierd assignment, but I waded through. I spoke of my family and said that you and Dad were two of the best bridge players in town. I wrote about wrhat effect music had had on my life, contrasting the piano and drum. I even told about pulling, or attempting to pull the boulder out of the garden over on Stark Street, and also about the Steven's Institute. Prof. Blank looks like he knows his stuff plenty, but he's going to be dangerously exacting.

Prof. Dash in Biology is going to be okay. Today while trying to show us the way in which the classification of a cat was broken up into smaller and smaller parts until you found the distinct character of the cat. he found an unresponsive class. And so, dismayed not a bit, he took another slide from the pile, (he was using pictures flashed on a screen to illustrate) and put it in the machine. The picture that was flashed on the screen looked like this:

Miss CURRENT BABE Smith College Northampton Massachusetts U. S. A.

"It is really very simple," he casually remarked, not having changed his tone of voice once.

Weil, time to close up shop. See you soon.

801 New Hamp.

Dear Folks, Thursday night we gave the football team a rousing send-off. The band played and there was a lot of cheering. We were sort of disillusioned later to find out that the train that the boys were on wasn't scheduled to pull out until about 3 or 4 Friday morning. All though the team looked as though it were leaving on the spot, non-stop to beat Navy, all they did was to go down to White River and go to bed.

What did you think of old '43's last sec- ond victory over Holy Cross. Bob Krumm, the boy that caught the winning pass lives just down the hall and he and I laugh like hell at good old X. . . . Y. . . . nearly every day in French. Bob is certainly a swell guy. "Rrains and brawn.

The band looks great! Going to have a swell act for Harvard. Be sure to see it.

My mail box is contaminated. I have written at least 6 different letters lately. Result: no answer.

I'm coming up academically. Got a C this time on an English theme. Got a B— on social science quiz. Got a 64 on classy civ. quiz. But wait, 79 was tops and 10 was low, so it's not so bad as it looks.

Another letter.

Dear Folks: Friday night before the game the Freshmen had a big rally in Webster. The band played and we cheered and sang. "Chuck" Pearson, center, spoke to us on Freshman traditions, and a swell evening was climaxed by a jazz session from Dartmouth's one and only Barbary Coast orchestra. They were swell. By the way, five freshmen made the Coast this year which is pretty near a record.

Sylvia wrote me a swell letter the other day. Too many smooth freshmen in her dorm for her.

Send food anytime, but plenty.

Oct. 23, '39

Dear Folks,

The date, ah yes, the date! I am now living in a beautiful, blissful world all my own. Will she answer my thank you note written early Sunday morning. That is the only question that is troubling me at the present. Hour exams? Pouf! But seriously, things worked out swell. We had some trouble getting started. It seemed that the guy we rented the car from wanted $6 for 4 people. We agreed and consequently had a little trouble getting all 7 of us in. We got over there a little after nine and another guy and I began to hunt up our dates. It seems that the two girls we were looking for were best friends and so we found them together in one of the dorms. And we only looked through 3 or 4 dorms before we found the right one, too.

There is nothing like that breathless expectancy as two young ladies enter the room and you start to guess which is your date. I knew immediately which one I would pick if it was my choice and lo and behold she was the one with whom I spent a most delightful evening. Her name is Dorothy —— and she is from Connecticut. Her dancing and wit were tops and I had a really swell time. The dance was held in the Colby gym and the music was by Kearney Kallander, who I had previously heard in N once.

The dance ended about (what do I mean "about") it ended at 12 sharp and again I was reminded of Abbot. (Abbot Academy in Andover, Mass.—Ed.) Dorothy lived off campus and we had a delightful little jaunt through the rain. Her house is caled Appletree, and there really is an appletree in the back.

After I left her, (morals still intact) I had a little trouble locating the rest of the boys. In fact, I had horrible visions of bumming or more probably walking back to Hanover. (About go miles.—Ed.) However finally as I was plodding aimlessly around, Costello yells, "Kelly." I subsequently arrived back in Hanover safely. And that's that, with a fervent prayer that it doesn't end there.

Tell Dad, (this will brighten his whole day I'm sure) that I got a straight B in my last English theme.

Dartmouth Hall1.30 Tuesday, Nov. 7, '39.

Dear Folks, This epistle comes direct to you from Dartmouth Hall. Right now a terribly interesting lecture on hygiene is progressing, but since the only requirement of this course (smut) is one's presence, I find that my time can better be used in writing home.

Yale week-end was really a piparoo. The band left about 10:00 o'clock Friday morning, and arrived in New Haven about 3 in the afternoon. We stayed at a hotel qujte close to the railroad station, and it Certainly was a let down after the Parker House in Boston.

Yale is certainly a beautiful place. First you're walking along a busy city street and, after walking thru an arched gateway' you find yourself in a quiet, secluded court, yard surrounded by the dorms where the fellows live. And I do mean live! Those rooms are really something. You ought to see the panelling, fireplaces, and of course, with the money those boys have, you can imagine they're beautifully furnished.

Well, maybe the old Big Green didn't put on a show in the bowl (along with the band, of course)! (33-0 if you have forgotten.—Ed.) We really looked like an inspired I outfit, but the Yale boys really didn't look as though they had their heart in it.

Well Mother, the proof of your cooking remains in the fact that though we got the food today, with much conservatism it ought to last till tonight! See you soon.

Postcard (Nov. 16).

Mid semester marks out today. Not reported in anything which means that all my marks are above C.

(No. date.)

Dear Folks: The athletic managerial Comp. starts in full swing a week from Monday. I have already attended a smoker where the big shots told us what a fine thing it was. Possibly they're right but its one hell of a lot of work too. Naturally you realize I can't go out for the Freshman ski team also. 1 had a swell talk with Dean Strong about which would be more beneficial, and he agreed that I had a better chance of breaking into skiing after my Freshman year, if I wanted to, than I had of getting into tit "comp." He wanted to know if I was reported in anything, and seemed rather pleased when I told him no. Do you realoze that only 190 Freshman are not reported low in some subject? Too good to be true

Well, the classy civ prof has been rather wet and has informed us of a 30 minute quiz this morning. Thus I must close flunk.

P.S. I could use soap and hair tonic at your convenience.

Postcard, Nov. 27.

Just a line to tell you that the D. C. AH I has seen fit to approve my plan to sing away my life, liberty, and property for couple of years. (He made the athletie competition.—Ed.)

(The second installment of lettersappear in a later issue.)

CAUSE FOR A LETTER HOME WHEN A FRESHMAN MAKES THE BAND.