Holding the Fort

University Hall, peacetime home of undergraduate fears and records, has become a wartime target for poorly-aimed student distemper. Since the College geared itself to the war program, almost a year ago, the Deans and administrative staff have been the butts of many a confused barb, ranging from the usual Joe College stuff to sincere criticism of what the various offices have done to guide and advise the future soldier in his last months at Harvard.

To a certain extent, the heads of the College could not help but expect this during the year. In December 1941, they were handed a program by teh War Department, based on a half-hearted attempt at conversion to war footing, with loose ends dangling, loop holes rather than concrete planning emphasized, and confusion, almost to the point of chaos as the inevitable aftermath. And they wee diligently instructed to guide the students in this program.

They were given an Enlisted Reserve Corps that even now does not know when it will be called. They were tossed an incredibly flexible system of Selective Service, which provides that a man with almost finagling vision will be 1-A in one district, and a veritable Atlas be pushed into 1-B in another. Into their perplexed faces was thrown the unsolved problem of the high-school graduate's future, whether it be education or complete military training. And they were told to advise 3600 men of draft age exactly what to do.

In the face of one of Washington's more general disorders, the Deans' Office went to work. Out of chaos they brought a plan, fallible to be sure, but by comparison almost rock-like. It became their outspoken policy to advise men to stay at Harvard and complete as much of the four years as they were able, and their official rulings have been uniformly consistent with this policy.

Last March the first step was taken when the accelerated program became a relate. Next came the rulings on course reduction and accelerated tutorial. During the summer, courses taken during officer's training were ruled acceptable for graduation credit. Divisional and commencements were planned to fit the needs of men liable to call. And most recently, new leniency was grated draftees when University Hall ruled three-months crudity sufficient to give men drafted before mid-years the official benefit of fall courses.

As a result, the Harvard diploma, which appeared about as attainable as a set of tires to many in 1941, now becomes the well-earned possession of many a young officer and enlisted man. The great and universally-felt fear of tailspinning standards, the bogey-like dilemma of a year ago, has been avoided by the preservation of a great part of the teaching faculty, and a resolute rigidity in the entrance requirements.

During this month, the War Department will finally make clear the program of student service which should have been functioning since the first undergraduate was drawn from a college campus into a training camp. When it does, all University Hall may visibly sigh, for the burden which it has borne almost solely for a year will be lifted from its shoulders, and the difficult job of gudidance during a confused period of transition terminated.