The coming of the Korean War in late 1950 left the University bewildered. While it geared to contribute to the country's war effort as rapidly as it had for the Second World War, the student body became infused with skepticism. Though students never organized to protest, as they would twenty years later, the war and the accompanying draft served as a continual nuisance in student life. R.O.T.C. and the draft became acceptable topics for satire. Underneath this veneer of cynicism, though, the University community was willing to participate in the fight against communism. After World War II it was within the acceptable bounds of University activity to be directly involved--via R.O.T.C.--in the nation's war efforts. For some it became part of the Virginia tradition. For others, tradition provided solace in an unstable world.
By the fall of 1951 all branches of the military were represented in R.O.T.C. units at the University. The addition of Air Force officer training assuaged concerns of a decline in entering students predicted for the Fall as potential students joined the services instead of the academy. The Korean conflict and the draft possessed the same potential threat to the base of entering students as the Second World War had. R.O.T.C. growth at the University is consistent with national trends--some predicted 90,000 freshmen to enroll in R.O.T.C. programs annually. At this early stage in R.O.T.C.'s development it was viewed as primarily a means to recruit future officers rather than as an educational program. But such a view ran contrary to the University's self-image and the expansion of R.O.T.C. was heralded as a credit to the strength of the institution's individualistic tradition. The Alumni Association claimed the University's disdain for paternalism provided an excellent setting for creating officers. R.O.T.C. was billed to potential students as part ofthe University of Virginia's continuing purpose to educate her sons for roles of leadership and to provide, in times of national emergency, special preparation for service in the armed forces.
Actually, R.O.T.C. served an entirely new purpose, but the rhetorical link to the past justified the present activities of the University in the nation's "current emergency". President Darden viewed R.O.T.C. as
His statement effectively places R.O.T.C., albeit only fifteen years old, within the fold of University traditions. By the mid-fifties, R.O.T.C. unit pictures are included in the yearbook as just another student group.
Ironically, the discipline R.O.T.C. programs required ran directly counter to the "non-paternalistic" tradition of individualism held especially dear to the student body. For example, R.O.T.C. cadets were not allowed unexcused absences from military classes whereas in the thirties class attendance was optional for any dean's list student--a much loved rule at the time. Classroom culture became significantly more strict; "Here Sir" being the acceptable response at roll call. Student humor reflected the challenge R.O.T.C. poised to the spirit of individualism. For example,
Frosh Cadet: "I didn't see you, Sir."
R.O.T.C. officer: "Thank heavens, I thought you were mad at me."
Officers however were not the only source of amusement. Cadets, especially in dress, did not fit into the traditional mold of a Virginia man.
First-Year-Man: "I didn't. This is my ROTC uniform."
Aside from their non-traditional dress, R.O.T.C. cadets did not seem to possess the dignity and poise of non-military students. Hence,
One author even implied that R.O.T.C.'s presence on Grounds, in addition to the new mammoth dormitories (now the "old dorms"), kept Virginia from rightfully claiming the Ivy League status it always desired. In one respect, however, R.O.T.C. students had the upper hand--draft deferments; an issue of increasing importance with the outbreak of the Korean War.
The University moved into the 1950 fall session with an increased wartime preparedness. R.O.T.C. units, then including over 500 Army and 224 Navy recruits, increased their activities. Increased military needs were cited as cause for the delay of the long awaited 1.8 million dollar student union building (now Newcomb Hall).
After the Second World War the draft ended only to be rejuvenated two years later. All male students had to refer to their draft boards. However, R.O.T.C. students were able to receive deferments if drafted to finish their coursework. But for most students the draft entered into their lives as a very real possibility. The student paper throughout the Fall of 1950 followed the evolution of draft policy closely, paying special attention to talk of lowering the draft age from 21 to 18. New Year 1951, with the conflict in Korea underway, proved a tense time for University students. The "Virginia Spectator" was entitled the "Uncertain Future Issue" in January (see appendix--"Visit Romantic Korea"). Even the Alumni magazine described the month of December as a "period of great uncertainties" due to the debate over the nation's manpower needs. President Darden, seeing the threat of a mass exodus of students into the service similar to ten year previous, echoed President Newcomb's World War II message saying,
Many students considered enlisting in the service of their choice before a draft board decided their fate for them. Major Charles Kaufmann, Director of Student Personnel and Placement and the liaison between students and their draft board, became increasingly busy as students were encouraged to "Keep Cool with Kaufmann". Also, bi-weekly trips to Richmond of 25 to 50 students for pre-induction physicals became a routine activity.
The draft, which persisted until 1974, was the target of student humor just as R.O.T.C. In the "Virginia Spectator" of November 1950, the "Anti-War Issue", is a feature "30 Ways to beat the Draft" although the article mentions only fifteen. The editors favored joining a Trappist monastery, but other suggestions included getting a horse and, in Jeffersonian dress, ride around Grounds taking notes on possible sites for a new University (perhaps they felt it was time to start anew) or becoming Queen of the Apple Harvest Festival. But the students laughter only masked their concern. Traditions "offer(ed) quiet consolement to the student beset with the fears of doubts of a troubled world". The draft represented the outside world's trouble invading the University.