The Officer

We the warriors in pursuits of excellence, band together in sincerity and
truth.

May our philosophy be filled with power and may we connect in authenticity.

May we strengthen and increase our admiration for honest dealing and clear
thinking, and may our hatered of hypocrisy and pretence never diminish.

May we inspire each other in our endeavor to live above the common levels
of life.

May we strengthen each other to choose the harder right instead of the
easier wrong, and never to be content with a half truth even if the whole
can’t be won.

May we endow each other with courage that is born of loyalty to all that is
noble and worthy, that scorns to compromise with vice and injustice and
knows no fear when truth and right are in jeopardy.

May we guard each other against flippancy and irreverence in the sacred
things of life.

May we grant each other new ties of friendship and new opportunities for
leadership or service.

May we kindle our hearts in fellowship with those of a cheerful
countenance, and soften our hearts with sympathy for those who sorrow and
suffer.

May we help each other to maintain Honor untarnished and unsullied and to
show forth in our lives the ideals we learned in doing our duty.

All of which we ask in the names of those before us, of those who stand
today, and those who are yet to rise.

Here, we come to today, the modern times. In the battle between the
Gentleman and The Officer. The Gentleman was lost. The honor code is no
longer aimed at Men, it is now aimed at cadets, aimed away from the public.
It almost seems like growing up is optional, and things get very strange in
deed:

At times like these, where our greatest lessons are forgotten we must look
back at where things got lost. At times like these the Knigtly Virtues ring
again. As the poem says The right can never die, If one man still recalls,
The words are not forgot, If one voice speaks them clear, The code forever
shines, If one heart holds it bright

I think that one is Rudyard Kipling I find it delightful that he chose
not to be Knighted, he did not need to look back. Some call him the finest
example of a Gentleman.

His poem “If” is a magnificent reminder that growing up is not optional.

IF you can keep your head when all about you

Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,

If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,

But make allowance for their doubting too;

If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,

Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies,

Or being hated, don’t give way to hating,

And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise:

If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;

If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim;

If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster

And treat those two impostors just the same;

If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken

Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,

Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,

And stoop and build ‘em up with worn-out tools:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings

And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,

And lose, and start again at your beginnings

And never breathe a word about your loss;

If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew

To serve your turn long after they are gone,

And so hold on when there is nothing in you

Except the Will which says to them: ‘Hold on!’

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,

Or walk with Kings - nor lose the common touch,

if neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,

If all men count with you, but none too much;

If you can fill the unforgiving minute

With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,

Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,

And - which is more - you’ll be a Man, my son!