The Undergraduate Chair
Record Enrollment This Fall Is a Heterogeneous Group But Unity Grows as Old Dartmouth Steadily Reappears
A FEW WEEKS ago a hushed air of expectancy lay over the College and ■ the village like the calm before a storm. The men graduating in September sounded like Madame de Pompadour with their dire prophecy, "After us, the deluge."
A day or two before the October 4 openi ng of college, the deluge poured in by train, automobile, bus and plane, until the flood had swollen to nearly three thousand
students, the largest enrollment in Dartmouth's history. This great, teeming mass of humanity, composed of young and old, mostly exG.l.'s, was assembled together in Hanover from all points of the globe. There were men who had "sweated it out" in Burma, France, and Japan, and still another group which did its "sweating" in Deerfield, Exeter and Boston Latin. Some of these men were the nucleus of the class of 1950, others were pre-war Dartmouth men back to complete their education and renew old ties. A third group was composed of those men who were discharged early and who had been at Dartmouth for one or more semesters. Each sees the College in a different light, yet each dreams of the same ultimate goal, being one of the Men of Dartmouth.
The veterans, an overwhelming majority at Dartmouth today, have cast aside their military training and are not a stereotype on the campus. They are men who have returned to lead America far, far away from the nightmare of regimentation. They fought on far-flung battlefronts for what they considered to be a good cause, and now their very appearance belies the theory that youth must destroy its individuality to establish an invincible state. If one did not hear the phrase, "Boy, is he chicken!", or see the service apparel which is modeled on the campus every day, it would be almost impossible to tell which were veterans and which were neophytes. These ex-G.l.'s are men of Dartmouth today who will be men of the jvorld tomorrow. If the younger sons of Eleazar will be slightly attentive, they will profit by the foresight and maturity which their college mates possess.
The student body is now composed of three distinct factions: veterans who returned before the fall semester, veterans who have just come back, and the newcomers who are seeing Dartmouth and Hanover for the first time. The first group, having attended Dartmouth in the midst of its postwar birth pangs, are seeing it emerge from the mist to its former place. The second group sees the school pretty much as it left it, minus, of course, the tension of war and its related problems.
The third group of men see Dartmouth in something of a haze, which lifts gradually every day. It would seem that a group as diversified as this could not be welded into a unified student body in a short space of time, but it will be done. In fact, the groundwork has been laid.
The traditions which thrill the undergraduate and bring back nostalgic memories to the old grad are once again appear ing on the campus scene. The Dartmouth can be found early every morning at the door, laden with news of the college and outside world, plus the ever-present college notices and pleas for rides to Akron or Smith, or any other place an automobile happens to be going. "The oldest college daily" has survived the war in true Dartmouth fashion. After two false starts in which humor was rather conspicuous by its absence, Jacko promises to leave the embryo stage in the next issue.
The first rush since the class of '46 emerged victorious in 1942 found the men of '50 much too powerful for the sophomores, loaded with recruits from as far back as '41. Smashing through a driving rain, the" frosh rang up the victory in fifteen minutes and then proceeded to show their virility by upsetting the dining room in College Hall. The powers that be then asserted their even greater potency and the victors meekly returned chairs and tables to their accustomed places.
Fraternity rushing -reared its head the third week in October, promising to be an exciting period. Each house had ferreted out its closet-boys, briefed its 8.M.0.C.'5, and laid in a store of beer. The three-day ordeal proved fruitful since there were about twelve hundred eligible rushees. Other secret organizations are equally active. The house on the corner has taken back at its quarters from the College and once again well dressed C. & G.'s may be seen entering and leaving, shrouded in an aurora of sophistication and secrecy. Down the street, the followers of the silent one have reopened the Tomb and may also be seen around its sacred portals. Sphinx has returned, still remaining a mystery to the great unwashed beyond its limits. The Dean must, perforce, look forward to an occasional sleepless night for the Dragons are operating again on peacetime levels.
Yes, Dartmouth has returned to Hanover. The things which bind Dartmouth men together through life, which instil that spirit we hail so proudly, have come back. This reconversion has been a hard task requiring a great deal of thought and foresight. There were audible mutterings from the student body a semester or two back, when the Administration refused to open wide the flood gates and attempt to revive prewar Dartmouth overnight. They have done an excellent job of carrying the revival through its tottering first stages to the results in evidence on the campus today. The gentlemen concerned deserve a laurel wreath or whatever it is one gets for a thankless job well done.
LEADING ACE OF THE ETO, Lt. Col. John Meyer '4l, still in the Army, is back at Dartmouth to get his degree. With him is his wife, Mary, ex-lt.(jg), and son, Peter, neither a veteran nor a serviceman.
