Putting on a football uniform for the Black Knights of West Point isn't all that different from playing for other schools that take the game seriously. Cadets don't see themselves as special warriors or defenders of the nation's martial pride. "In practice or on the field they just put on the helmets and play, nothing unusual about that," says Army coach Ed Cavanaugh.

In fact, not a whole lot of people outside of the mid-Hudson valley area care whether West Point reestablishes itself as a national power or stumbles through yet another losing campaign in a string of mediocre seasons. Asked recently about today's Army-Harvard rematch. Caspar W. Weinberger '38 commented that as Secretary of Defence, he "doesn't have time to follow the details of college sports," pertaining to the military academy or otherwise.

But for the 4000 cadets who spend 40 months drilling, saluting and studying at the Point, football weekends possess an unusual character, shared, perhaps, only by those at the other service academies.

The nature of cadet loyalty to their team lies somewhere between the all-out fanaticism of big-time college ball--"We're above that, "says one future officer--and the calculated indifference prevalent at Harvard.

Like students here, the cadets eagerly await each year's season within a season, when their version of Yalies--the midshipmen of Navy--sail in for the November finale. Unlike most in Cambridge, the men and women of West Point rely heavily on the regular rhythm of weekend confrontation merely to make it through the other six days. "It can get pretty gray here in the fall, pretty gloomy," says sophomore Daryl Smith, voicing a common sentiment.

So, in a most determined way, cadets root for their boys on the gridiron. When the opponent is Harvard, which beat Army in an upset last year, the mood becomes a bit insistent. "We took it pretty hard last year; it was in our face, and some people took two weeks to recover," Smith remembers. "But I'm not too worried about this year, cause I know we're gonna beat the hell out of you guys. That would just be good Army policy; we have no choice."

Arriving yesterday to oversee implementation of this policy were precisely 1330 cadets, plus the team, coaches and West Point brass. They'll be "forming up" at Soldiers Field this afternoon at 1300 Hours. There they will receive final instructions on mobilization and deployment before marching into the Stadium, where they will all stand, bellowing, for the entire game. The standing is required by regulation; noise is highly recommended by superiors.

"Our traditions enhance the particular image we want for the cadets, " West Point administrator Maj. Timothy Carnahan says. "There's a lot of dignity, but we want to win real bad, too, especially at Harvard this year."

Coach Cavanaugh insists he and his players won't be worrying about last October's 15-10 loss to the Crimson at Army's Michie Stadium. "We play each game for itself, and then look ahead," the second-year West Point strategist says, elucidating. "We're still a young team, but we've got more experience than in the past, and if a few big people come through, we'll be in any game."

More to the point. Harvard coach Joe Restic says the Black Knights "obviously have an edge" after the surprise of the 1980 season. "They'll be out for revenge, and we'll have a psychological thing to overcome."

Revenge is a word that slips easily into conversation about the Crimson Cadet rematch. Players and cadets who know players acknowledge the importance of West Point pride. "They"ll be fired up; that's for sure," says Harvard junior Shelby Calvert, who transferred here from Army just this year. "Cadets deeply respect Harvard for its academics, but not for athletics, and losing hurt a lot."

Though the loss may have been painful, the attitude of the Harvard fans will be remembered far longer than the dropped passes and broken tackles.

Not surprisingly, the chief troublemaker was the Harvard band, which performed one of its famous "this-may-not-be-humor-but-you'll-be-working-for-us-someday" half-time shows.

"You know, your band sucks," third-year cadet Joe Goetz says, though he reports that the Brown musical ensemble, which entertained during the Bruins; 23-17 loss to Army last week, is "even worse, really terrible."

Pursuing the topic of Ivy League bands, you can quickly identify another aspect of the average cadet's concern about today's game.

"It's easy to get the idea that preppy Ivy League kids think we're idiots in uniforms," Goetz says, recalling one Brown routine that especially irked him. "The band P.A. announcer said, 'This was the second year West Point graduated girls, but we're still waiting for the first man. What's that supposed to mean? That's funny?"

Teresa Ward, editor of the Slum and Gravy, the Point's student newspaper, adds her regret that "Some people at Harvard might think we're war-mongerers or unfriendly." Not so, says Ward, pointing out that many of the cadets here for the weekend will specifically try to eliminate the stereotype, while at the same time "finding out what these preppy colleges are all about."

(The Harvard band, by the way, plans, "an up-to-date report on current events, the military, the economy and the Middle East," one informed insider says.)

CADETS take 40 courses, 31 of them required. They undergo rigorous physical training and live without the usual college frills of all-night poker games, late-morning snooze sessions and easy access to boyfriends and girlfriends. "It would be fair to say that a lot of the cadets look forward to the football weekend as their preeminent opportunity for socializing if not just to get off campus for a while," says Army spokesman Carnahan.

Last night, hordes of well-groomed cadets patrolled the streets of Cambridge and Boston, while others attended a mixer arranged by the Point's Hostess Office and featuring young women from Smith, Mount Holyoke and Wellesley.

They'll have tonight as well to indulge in the area's bohemian pleasures, though Carnahan says slightly different behavior is expected of the Army's youth division than of, say, Dartmouth fans.

"There's nothing wrong with a cadet taking a drink; that's part of the social development an officer needs, learning how to have a drink or two the right way." Carnahan explains, "But there is a clear emphasis on correct behavior."

Veteran Calvert summarizes: "You can drink, but if you're totally sloshed at the game, and people can notice, you'll get in deep trouble eventually." There are no sympathetic senior tutors at West Point.

Still, that fifth beer is not the important thing for cadets on "trip section." While off campus, they can visit friends and family or tour Boston. "It's nice not having that omnipresent green raincoat standing above you for once," says Goetz.

Most of all, the game's the thing Everyone plays at least an intramural sport at West Point, and there will be a lot of vicarious signal-calling among the rigid legions of gray this afternoon.

Sue Miguel, a sophomore, won't be here because of a basketball practice, but she knows what it will look like. "Every game brings the corps together," she says," marching in companies, chanting, going crazy together-it's a big release."

The banners are flying back at West Point today--"Draw Crimson Blood." "Humiliate Hahvahd." "Pulverize the Preppies," and so on--but almost every cadet wishes he or she were standing in the cold at Soldiers Field.