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Dick Prescott's First Year at West Point
How do you feel, Dick! As spruce as you did an hour ago! Candidate Greg Holmes put the question with a half-nervous laugh. He spoke in a whisper, too, as if to keep his agitation from reaching the notice of any of the score or more of other young men in the room of Mr. Ward, the aged notary at West Point. "I'll be glad when I see some daylight through the proceedings," Dick Prescott whispered in answer. "I'm glad they allow us to talk here in undertones," pursued Greg. "If we weren't allowed to do so, some of us would go suddenly crazy, utter a whoop and spring through one of the windows," grinned Dick.
Dick Prescott's Fourth Year At West Point
Reproduction of the original: Dick Prescott's Fourth Year At West Point by H. Irving Hancock
Dick Prescott's Fourth Year at West Point. Or, Ready to Drop the Gray for Shoulder Straps
In 'Dick Prescott's Fourth Year at West Point', H. Irving Hancock continues the riveting adventures of Dick Prescott as he navigates his final year at the prestigious military academy. Written in a straightforward and engaging style, the book provides a glimpse into the daily life of a cadet, tackling themes of duty, honor, and friendship. Set against the backdrop of the early 20th century, the novel captures the essence of West Point's rigorous training and traditions, making it a compelling read for those interested in military fiction. Hancock's attention to detail and authentic portrayal of cadet life adds depth to the narrative, immersing readers in Prescott's journey towards becoming a full-fledged officer. Through vivid descriptions and realistic dialogue, the book offers a glimpse into the challenges and triumphs faced by cadets at West Point. Recommended for readers looking for a well-crafted military novel with a focus on character development and honor.
Dick Prescott's Second Year at West Point
Leaving the road that wound by the officers' quarters at the north end, turning on to the road that passed the hotel, a hot, somewhat tired and rather dusty column of cadets swung along towards their tents in the distance. The column was under arms, as though the cadets had been engaged in target practice or out on a reconnaissance. The young men wore russet shoes, gray trousers and leggings, gray flannel shirts and soft campaign hats. Their appearance was not that of soldiers on parade, but of the grim toilers and fighters who serve in the field. Their work that morning had, in fact, been strictly in line with labor, for the young men, under Captain McAneny, had been engaged in the study of field fortifications. To be more exact, the young men had been digging military trenches - yes - digging them, for at West Point hard labor is not beneath the cadet's dignity.
Laddie
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The Day Breaketh
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