The Undergraduate Chair
Study Replaces Usual Spring Activities During Intersession As College and Students Prepare for Military Service
DARTMOUTH HAS JUST SWUNG into a period known as the "Intersession." Dartmouth has never had an In- tersession before and it is interesting to note a few of its aspects and some of the reactions to this phenomenon.
The outward reason for its creation is, of course, to bridge the gap between the end of the last regular semester and July Ist, the date when the College coordinates its civilian schedule with that of the V-12 Navy and Marine program. The Navy has already taken over to a considerable extent, but in July we will see bell bottom trousers substituted for the more grandiose uniforms of the officers now stationed in the Indoctrinational School.
But right now we are in the calm before the storm or probably more correctly the calm before the calm, since life in Hanover in July will be under the smooth efficiency of military regulation and not the slightly hectic atmosphere of usual undergraduate activity.
What's this Intercession like to the Dartmouth student? To start at the beginning, or we might say before the beginning, we can describe the circumstances of the hapless fellow who arrived back from his tenday vacation slightly later than the scheduled time. This situation would not have left a Dartmouth student particularly perturbed in ordinary times. He could mumble to the Dean a vague excuse about missing a train or being robbed or possibly having an annoying hangover. But tardiness in arriving at the Intersession occasioned a distinctly cool reception from the Administration. In fact, for a number of uneasy moments the unlucky individual sincerely wondered if he would be allowed to register at all. The usual excuse just didn't work and to put it as plainly as possible the poor guy just had to think fast. But so far as we know everyone thought fast enough.
After this initial scare, the Intersessiongoer received a few more rude shocks. Among the first things he was enlightened about was the very very unhappy fact that there was to be no "cutting" during this Reader's Digest semester. Cutting was always a very handy means of recuperating from any ill effects of a vacation. One could gradually get used to rising early in the morning and slide into college routine by easy degrees. No such luck this time. "I think I'll cut my eight o'clock tomorrow" was a phrase of the past. In each class room was placed a pad of printed slips. In case of any absence whatsoever, the student was required to denote the exact time he was absent and present in writing a plausible excuse. There are apparently very few plausible excuses next to falling off a roof and breaking a few legs. But if it is not sufficiently satisfactory the undergraduate is most definitely liable to suspension from the College.
However, the student was not fully aware of the tone of the Intersession until he attended a few of his classes. He only needed to attend a few. In each one there seemed to be triple the amount of work that was ever demanded before. This is most vividly brought out by recounting the case of our friend who arrived late. In fact, our friend was two days late. He dropped into Hanover on Wednesday instead of Monday. Sitting down in an English class {and English classes have a notorious reputation for being easy) on the fatal Wednesday morning, he was bluntly informed of an hour exam that would take place on Friday. The hour exam would thoroughly examine his knowledge of three inordinately lengthy Eighteenth Century novels and all the pertinent facts of the author's life. To gather the full import of this we will refresh your memory of hour exams to the extent of mentioning that they are extremely disastrous affairs that ordinarily occur in a course not less than one month or even two months apart in ordinary times, and that many undergraduates purposely select courses that have no hour exams at all because of the effects wrought on one's nervous system by them. The last we heard our friend had managed to beg off taking the test till the following Monday.
One must remember, of course, that the Dartmouth man takes only three courses instead of five during the Intersession and each course is given five or six times a week instead of three. But still, to cram any half-year course into seven weeks is a superhuman task, especially, we think, for the student, who is being asked to stuff a liberal education into his brain on a cut-rate basis and without any time and a half for overtime. But for the senior who is making a final spurt for a degree it is probably very good since he is being given a crack at getting a diploma before entering the services. For the others—well, we suppose we should say "C'est la guerre."
Apart from academic activities most undergraduate organizations are defunct. TheDartmouth, however, is still pounding ahead full blast and even coming out six days a week instead of five as last semester. It calls itself the NEW Dartmouth and boasts a brand new teletype machine, comic strips, Washington columnists, crossword puzzles, and an impressive array of new features that compare favorably to the workings of a metropolitan daily. It deserves a pat on the back. The Dartmouth Players are also holding on. They are reviving last semester's Love Rides the Rails. One can say it's only a revival but we think a revival is better than nothing.
Believe it or not, fraternities are still running. We have no idea for how long, but for the present at least their doors are open.
And, of course, nothing has stopped spring from coming. And along with spring, nothing has stopped spring baseball on the campus every afternoon. And since we are pretty sure that nothing will ever stop that, we can easily feel that Dartmouth is still very worthwhile.
"HERE'S WISHING YOU A HAPPY VOYAGE HOME" A typical Saturday noon scene in Hanover as student officers embark on a week-end"ashore"—only this time they won't be returning, for the Naval Training School atDartmouth closes on June 4 to make way for an extra 1000 trainees under the Navyand Marine Corps College Training Program (V-12).
