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,...
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