THE REALIZATION OF AN ARCHITECT’S DREAM When the springtime rolls around and the Hudson River is at its best, the annual influx of visitors begins to arrive at West Point. Trains and boats disgorge official visitors, tourists, boy scouts, delegations of various brotherhoods and sisterhoods, and picknickers galore. Little groups of them appear in all corners of the Post, in the area of Barracks, on the Plain, in the Public Buildings, and along the famous Flirtation Walk. Their chief interest, of course, is to catch a glimpse of the cadets, either _en masse_ or individually. When the Corps starts either to meals or to dress parade, they gather along the sidewalks, or at the visitors’ seats to watch the marching. Some openly express their enthusiasm and pleasure, genuinely delighted at everything they see, while others remain silent and phlegmatic apparently taking only a languid interest in their surroundings. As I watch my fellow-countrymen strolling about the grounds of the Academy, I often wonder what are their impressions of this institution. To many, of course, the historic traditions of West Point, as well as its functions and purposes, are thoroughly familiar, but to a vast majority West Point is a closed book. They see the cadets, the drills, the buildings, perhaps parade, but they never have an opportunity to acquaint themselves with the intimate life of the Academy. They do not derive the full benefit from their visit, because they are in the position of regarding the institution from the outside. In many cases, the spirit of investigation is restrained by a feeling of timidity upon their part, a feeling of awe in the face of military surroundings. The Army is so little known to the people in the United States, that, to the average civilian, there seems to be some sort of mystery surrounding military life, and the presence of a man in uniform, with a waist belt and pistol, doing plain police duty, appears to act as a check on every natural impulse. The pleasure of his visit is consequently marred to some extent and he feels somewhat ill-at-ease. He wants to investigate with greater freedom, but he shrinks from being told that his projects are “Verboten.” Upon his departure he must of necessity have but a superficial idea of the great work done at the Academy, unless he has been fortunate enough to have some friend stationed at West Point who dissipates the apparently cold atmosphere of military life.