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Despite Zumwalt's persuasiveness, not all military men agree that making life easier for troops and sailors is a good thing. The Marine Corps is determined to be as tough and rigid as ever, perhaps more so in order to claim greater eliteness. "We will continue to take the hard line," says one Marine general. "We think we can get 200,000 volunteers, cut their hair and shave their faces. It will be a challenge, but maybe it's the only one left."
The service academies claim they have gone about as far as they can to liberalize rules, and they see merit in retaining stern discipline. A West Point cadet was dismissed last month because he had claimed to have shined his shoes, then voluntarily admitted that he had lied. But cadets can wear blazers on weekends, the high, stiff uniform collars are gone and, notes one colonel in a swipe at Zumwalt and Westmoreland, "We removed reveille two years ago, but we didn't call a press conference to announce it."
The superintendent at Annapolis, Admiral James F. Calvert, believes that Zumwalt is "the best thing that's happened to the Navy in a long time," but he does not want his academy to adapt too completely to the world outside its walls. Calvert praises "team spirit, the battle cry, camaraderie, heroism, the desperate fight against impossible odds," and deplores the fact that higher education in the U.S. tends to reject "authority, tradition, moral values−anything that smacks of absolutes. Annapolis cannot go along with that." And if a midshipman does not believe "in the essential goodness of the country and has no desire to defend it against all its enemies," Calvert wants him to leave.
There are, indeed, dangers in too much leniency, as Zumwalt and his aides are well aware. Many top admirals wonder if the Navy has not already gone too far. As he retired from his post as Commander of the Pacific Fleet this month, Admiral John J. Hyland hinted as much in Zumwalt's presence, asking in his farewell speech: "How far can we permit absolute freedom of speech, deportment and dress−and still hang onto the indispensable element of discipline?" He warned against being weakened by "bleeding hearts."
Many commanders of ships and bases feel that Zumwalt is delving into personnel matters that have long been their rightful prerogative. Many Navy chiefs, the indispensable career men who run much of the service, contend that lowly swabs are getting perks that it had taken them years to earn. Besides, there is the issue of authority, the subversion of the chain of command. Grouses one commander at Norfolk: "Since these Z-grams came out, some men in the lower grades seem to feel that they are working directly for the C.N.O.and to hell with everybody in between."
More serious is the argument that discipline and rigor are essential to the primary business of the military: preparing men to kill and to endure the personal danger of death. Nearly all the legendary armies of history have been harshly trained and regimented. The model is ancient Sparta, whose youths spent 23 years, including their wedding nights, in soldiers' barracks and could be fined merely for showing no