Books with author Irving Handcock

A QUESTION OF MIDSHIPMAN HONOR "How can a midshipman and gentleman act in that way?" The voice of Midshipman David Darrin, United States Navy, vibrated uneasily as he turned to his comrades. "It's a shame—that's what it is," quivered Mr. Farley, also of the third class at the United States Naval Academy. "But the question is," propounded Midshipman Dan Dalzell, "what are we going to do about it?" "Is it any part of our business to bother with the fellow?" demanded Farley half savagely. Now Farley was rather hot-tempered, though he was "all there" in points that involved the honor of the brigade of midshipmen. Five midshipmen stood in the squalid, ill-odored back room of a Chinese laundry in the town of Annapolis. There was a sixth midshipman present in the handsome blue uniform of the brigade; and it was upon this sixth one that the anger and disgust of the other five had centered. He lay in a sleep too deep for stirring. On the still, foul air floated fumes that were new to those of his comrades who now gazed down on him. "To think that one of our class could make such a beast of himself!" sighed Dave Darrin.

SYNOPSIS: "On Dave Darrin's return to the Naval Academy after a month at home where he found the beginning of a romance, he plunged into study and passed examinations. Dave and his friend were now ready for their third summer training cruise. All they needed was one more year without falling down to be graduated midshipmen. But unexpected troubles were waiting for them."

THE CLASS PRESIDENT LECTURES ON HAZING 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.