Lynette Miles of Scottsdale, Ariz., had a little longer to prepare. Her son, Marvin "Tres" Gibbs III, has wanted to be a fighter pilot since he was a toddler. He even refused to respond to teachers unless they called him by his chosen pilot name, "Ace."
He showed up Wednesday with the upright posture, taut physique and serious expression of a military man.
"Even before kindergarten, it was, 'I want to fight for my country,' " recalled Miles, an English professor at Arizona State. "I asked him this morning if he was nervous, and he said, 'I can't wait.' "
That kind of confidence was prevalent among candidates as they waited in a long line for check-in. Many have wanted to attend the academy since they were small.
But they're not ready for what they're about to face, upperclassmen said. No one is.
The candidates walked in the door in flip-flops, shorts and brightly colored T-shirts, with snazzy tennis shoes on their feet and cell phones in their pockets. Within minutes, all those vestiges of their former lives were gone, hauled off to storage lockers for the summer.
The plebes emerged from check-in clad in identical uniforms. Men were left with a thin layer of hair, women with neatly trimmed locks well above their shoulders. Even the glasses were standard issue - thick, square rims built for endurance.
The slip-ups started almost immediately.
Some candidates forgot to say "sir" at the beginning of each utterance. Some let their eyes wander or their mouths curl into grins while being addressed by first-classmen. Some failed to hold their elbows straight while reading Reef Points, the academy's pocket guide to procedure and seaman's lingo.
"Do not look around. Do not look at me," said Horiye, addressing a pack of newcomers. "Get out your Reef Points and start studying. Don't stare at me. Turn to page 109 and learn your five basic responses. I assure you you'll need to know them."
As one candidate's arm drooped from the appropriately straight angle, Horiye reached in to push it back up.
"The quicker they learn, the less pain they get over the whole summer," Horiye said, adopting a more casual tone after her group moved to another station. "It's a whole different animal here. I had wanted to come here for a long time, but I remember that on my I-Day, I still thought, 'What have I gotten myself into?' "
