Showing posts with label The Citadel. Show all posts
Showing posts with label The Citadel. Show all posts

Thursday, January 31, 2013

How to Sweat a Knob

When Vice President Ford visited the Citadel to receive an honorary degree March 15, 1974 he ate lunch with the Corps of Cadets. As a member of H Company our table was very close to the Regimental Commander's. Visiting dignitaries would sit there and we would always have a great view when they spoke at lunch.

When you assemble an entire Corps of Cadets for a meal at one time you can expect some mischief. One of the favorite pranks was to create a gutter with the clear plastic covers that the kitchen staff used to cover the table cloths. Once you and your accomplices had formed the gutter a senior would pour southern sweet tea down the gutter. The gutter would end at the lap of an unsuspecting cadet who was engaged in conversation with someone at the other end of the table. It was always fun to watch their reaction when a half a pitcher of tea hit their lap. It became my custom to cut the plastic verticly on either side of my seat to protect my pants.

Another prank often perpetrated was to send a knob (freshman) with a bottle of ketchup to wipe out the shoes of someone on the other end of the table. When the crawling knob would tap on the leg of the senior on the opposite end of the table he would grant access to the freshman. Each mess mate at the table would cooperate to allow the stealthy knob to reach his target. Once the shoes had been properly shined with Heinz the process would reverse and the knob would return to his seat. A note would be passed to the Regimental Adjutant to announce the deed. At the end of his announcement he would say "so and so" please look at your shoes. The Corps would have a great laugh. The target would normally be a senior cadet or perhaps an alumni commissioned officer.

At a place like the Citadel proving ones manhood (or courage since women have been admitted) has always been important. A freshman who carried out a successful mission was looked upon favorably.

During lunch on March 15, 1974, I looked at a knob at my table, slammed a bottle of ketchup in front of him and commanded that he wipe out the Vice President's shoes. He froze with a look of absolute terror. Instantly beads of perspiration formed at each pour of his face. It was quite something to see. You could tell that a terrible debate was occurring deep within his soul. He was trying to decide if he wanted to face me or certain death at the hands of the Secret Service. If he had picked up the bottle he would have turned the tables on me. I would have had to tackle him to prevent the Secret Service from shooting him. I really wouldn't get a knob killed but he wasn't sure. I wish I knew who that member of the class of 1977 was.

Anyway that was my favorite way to sweat a knob.

Gary Barker
Citadel '76

Tuesday, April 12, 2011

My First Senior Class Party (The Citadel)

One of the first time knobs (freshman) got to leave The Citadel campus was for our first Senior Class Party. The senior classes have traditionally thrown off campus parties on Saturday after the formal balls held Friday nights. Southern debutantes flock to Charleston for the Homecoming, Ring Hop, Parents Day and other formal dances that were held on Fridays. Saturday the party would move off campus to a location with less discipline. In my day our favorite location was the Folly Beach Pier. The name fit.



The Senior Class always threw a great party. Attendance was highly encouraged. Ticket sales funded the event. We had some really great bands. Most parties had two. Typically there would be a rock band and a beach band. They would play alternating sets. We had many bands that went on to great success such as The Showmen (predecessor of the Chairmen of the Board) and Sha Na Na. Bowser stole the beer I laid on the front of the stage. I must have been holding it for a friend.

We got to leave campus so that we could attend. The Commandant even allowed curfew to be an hour later. Freshman and Sophomores had to be in an hour before the upper class men. An additional unofficial privilege allowed was that we could wear civvies at the party. I went stag. There had not been an opportunity to explore the area for the local girls. One of my classmates from  the Charleston area had his car parked off campus which several us planned to use to get to Folly Beach. Once we arrived we changed into our civilian party clothes and joined the frivolity.

We enjoyed our brief freedom with enthusiasm. Typically these parties were BYOC. (Bring your own cooler). When the time to leave approached somehow my classmates had disappeared. Getting a ride would not be a problem but my missing uniform was a crisis. I sought out my squad sergeant whom I affectionately called Mr. Matthews for advice.

He was a junior and was allowed to return to campus wearing what we called a blazer uniform. It consisted of a blue blazer, white shirt, Citadel tie and grey pants. He also had the uniform in which he left campus which he offered for my use.Wearing a sergeant uniform to return to campus didn't seem to be a great idea but it was vastly superior to trying to return to the barracks in civilian clothes.


I had my ride drop me off behind the Padgett-Thomas Barracks. Mr. Matthews was a smaller man than I. His pants were two inches short and lacked three inches closing in the front. His dress blouse lacked more than four inches in the chest and the sleeves were short. His hat looked comical sitting on the back of my head. I was a sight with junior and sergeant stripes on my sleeve. My only hope of survival was to develop the swagger of a junior. The juniors and seniors would not return for another hour. My hope was to pull off one great bluff. I planned to stroll in the front gate and walk across the quadrangle. I hoped I would look like a slightly disheveled junior returning a little early. Freshman year you run while bracing within the open areas of the barracks. You don't earn the right to walk on the quadrangle until second semester of your sophomore year. If I could fool the corporal of the guard and the other sophomores hanging around the galleries I might just make it to my room and live.

As I turned the corner to walk to the front sally port I saw an Air Force Major approaching. I rendered a very proper hand salute and kept walking. Then I heard that terrifying word, "halt". He returned and looked me over with a very stern expression gracing his face. Then he smiled and asked me if I was a knob. I answered affirmatively. Knobs have a haircut that makes you resemble a door knob and thus the name. I was so glad this alumni officer was a spiritual man. He said, "May God have mercy on your soul. Carry on."

As I passed by the Corporal of the Guard I gave him a grunt to acknowledge his existence. He had questions in his eyes but lacked the courage to question an upperclassman. I cocked Matthew's cap further back on my head, opened the blouse further, and shoved my hands in the pockets. With a blend of swagger and a fained element of stagger I began my trip across the quadrangle. Out of the corner of my eye I could see a row of sophomores lining the rail of the H Company third floor balcony.

They didn't recognize this strolling junior and walked down to the stairwell and caught me when I reached the third floor. They had figured that a junior after partying a little strong had returned to the wrong barracks. I heard, "Barker" and a string of other comments deleted by the author. The committee of sophomore's were unsure of what to do with me. Finally one made a comment relating to my anatomy and sent me to my room. The crisis was over but the Class of 75 always held me in a slightly higher regard.


Gary Barker is a member of the Class of 1976
The Citadel, The Military College of South Carolina

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Tuesday, March 1, 2011

When Gerald Ford Visited The Citadel

I was sitting in the snack bar of Mark Clark Hall having one of those fabulous chocolate shakes with a couple of classmates when we noticed some suits. Knowing that the Vice President was soon to visit, it was easy to identify Secret Service agents. They were the advance team and had just arrived. As true Americans their first stop was for a cheeseburger in a building named for a true American.

I decided to engage them in a conversation. Eventually they asked where the weapons on campus were stored. I told them that the personal weapons of cadets and the pistols of the Pistol Team were held in the armory maintained by the US Army ROTC unit. You could just tell that they were thinking that it would be easy to control that situation by a lock down. Then with perfect timing I delivered the punch line that each cadet had a M-14 in his room. Trying to remain cool they tried not to react but you see them tense. Then I revealed that the firing pins had been removed. The agents relaxed. I just could not leave it alone. I explained that an inserted 16p nail would make an M-14 fire at least once. I had no idea if it would work or if the nail would fit where the pin had been removed but it sounded good. Their radar went back up.

Going back to the barracks I was enjoying the thought that we would have to turn in our rifles and we would get to parade without them. Cadets love mischief and I thought I had disrupted our world. To further entertain myself I told my fellow cadets that the Secret Service was prepared to shoot you if you made a strange move while you passed in review. For the uninitiated that is the point in the parade where you would be very close to the Vice President holding a rifle. I was still certain that our rifles would be collected.

The joke was on me. The rifles remained in our room gun racks. Several weeks later, the day of the parade arrived. Everyone was excited, we had heard a rumor that some College of Charleston girls were going to streak at the parade in front of the VPOTUS. We were hoping that we would be incensed. (Ray Steven's song lyrics) The company first sergeant inspected each rifle. I had to believe he was looking for nails. I started in on my fellow cadets telling them they would be shot if they tripped or mishandled their rifle when they were close to Vice President Ford. I was having a ball right up to the point when I saw the sniper on the roof of the Padgett-Thomas Barracks.

Gary Barker is an alumni member of the Citadel class of 1976. You can follow him on Facebook or visit his Website.