Education: Better Days for Doolies

When a "doolie," a first-year man at the U.S. Air Force Academy, is braced by an upperclassman, he sucks in his gut, throws out his chest and brays: "Sir, a doolie is that insignificant whose rank is measured in negative units, one whose potential for learning is unlimited." At meals he sits at attention and lifts his fork from plate to mouth in the rectangular movement of a robot; he shouts his response when asked a question. Until not so long ago, when entering his dormitory, he had to rasp in intercom fashion: "Sir, Air Force Academy jet 201K turning base, three green."*

The new Air Academy began all this business six years ago by grafting its own lingo on a century-old tradition at West Point and Annapolis. It is not quite hazing; an upperclassman has to ask a doolie's permission to touch him, even to straighten his tie. But if the official term for the custom is only "harassment," it still licenses upperclassmen to make life miserable for new men on the theory that "weak sisters" will quit.

Eating at Ease. The doolies near Colorado Springs are about to win a measure of relief: they will soon begin—sitting at ease during meals. The change was the latest in a series of reforms by Academy Superintendent William S. Stone. A modern major general. Stone thinks that harassment does indeed fuel the attrition rate (which averaged 27% for the academy's first three classes), but that it is not necessarily the weak sisters who quit. Says Stone: "A lot of this stuff is sophomoric."

Upperclassmen used to bait doolies all weekend; now doolies may close their doors if they want to be alone. For the first time, doolies regularly visit faculty homes. "They're discovering that an officer is like any other American," says one faculty member. "He has a wife, kids, and weeds in the lawn. We don't just play bridge and get drunk all the time."

Attitude & Altitude. The results al ready show. By Christmas vacation in 1960, the doolie class of 772 had been reduced by 123, including 75 who quit because they abhorred the academy. By Christmas vacation in 1961, the doolie class of 802 had lost 61 men, including only 32 who left out of distaste.

The academy is not letting doolies off scot-free. To the hectoring question, "Mister, what is your altitude?" they must still recite the laborious answer:

"Sir, my altitude is 7,200 ft. above sea level, and far, far above that of West Point or Annapolis." But they must also memorize, and later teach new doolies, the 1879 thesis of Major General John M. Schofield: "The discipline which makes the soldiers of a free country reliable in battle is not to be gained by harsh or tyrannical treatment."