In a front-page commentary on September 30, 1946, the boys of the Harvard Crimson complained that tall ex-servicemen slept in their beds, littered the Coop with G.I. Bill reimbursement slips and stole away the Radcliffe girls.

It was a bad year for old boys.

After the war years' attrition, enrollment exploded with veterans and students from outside New England's preparatory schools, straining facilities and faculty. The thousands of ex-servicemen hoping to move from Europe's barracks to Harvard's houses found them full. Overcrowded dorms and makeshift shelters gave the class a home while overburdened professors and untried teaching fellows gave instruction.

Making first-rate marks despite the trials of a congested Harvard, veteran and public school students proved the value of diversity to admissions officers.

The very identity of a Harvard man transformed as the GI Bill brought duffels among the tweeds, and scholarships brought the West east.

The fall days of 1946 found old Harvard besieged by veterans and scholarship students, the new guard of the ivory tower. More large, diverse, and serious than any previous class, the men of 1950 brought Harvard from New England to the nation.

Growing Pains

America was crowded with veterans returning from World War II, and when Harvard opened its gates to them, the Yard became a beachhead.