The Grass is Always Greener on the Other Side


Oh, my fellow knobben class of 2021, how we all join hands and clasp together in shock and revelation at the fast-paced drum beat of three weeks left of this lifestyle we have learned as “knob year.” As the anxiety draws in, clutching you like a Nietzscheian Abyss, do not tremble in thy low quarters as to why you hath come to the fortress of duty we have learned to love and hate known as The Citadel.  As we gaze across the fence towards The College and see them laughing upon their green areas, where their grass flows tall and unkempt, although your heart may yearn in your final days to cross the fence and walk upon the grass, to shed thy woolen blouse and pants, to disembark the black garrison and shoes, remember than on March 24th, thou shalt adorn white and join the ranks of the men and women whom are nine-feet tall and bulletproof. Our hearts may yearn together, but soon, we shall brace together and clutch for the reasonings as to why we are here, begging to hear the Regimental Commander’s voice and free the Class of 2021 of this system, just as the ones before us have been. Do not forget your reasonings, do not forget to brace or shine. You have come this far, do not fall into despair now.


Excerpts taken from a Class of 1968 Alumni.


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