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Now the rest of the story. Lt. Col. John F. Reynolds was affectionately called Old Pop by the cadets of his military school. But there were limits even to Old Pop's patience, and Fanny had finally crashed through them. What now? Asked Colonel Reynolds of the rambunctious offender who once again had been sent before him for discipline. Then he tried to cajole Colonel Reynolds with the axiom that the worst students make the best soldiers. Colonel Reynolds would not have to consult the records to be reminded of just how bad a student Fannie had been. For example, 100 demerits in any six month period comprised grounds for automatic expulsion. In Fanny's first half year at Reynolds school, the accumulated 120 escaping the otherwise obvious penalty through somebody's misguided sympathy. And the pattern of misbehavior continued with 98 demerits the first half of the second year, then 94 demerits the second half, right down to the last period of his last year, which he celebrated with 97 demerits. Fanny's insubordination was as varied as the instances were voluminous. Late for parade, late on parade face, unshaven hair, unkempt equipment, dirty uniform, disordered slackness in drill, failure to salute a superior. And this is not to mention the practical jokes like the time he cooked and ate a professional professor's prize rooster because it kept him awake. But now Fanny had graduated at the very bottom of the class, to be sure, 34th out of 34 students. And still he had crammed and had passed his final exams just barely, and he was ready to leave school. But then, five days past graduation and still on duty as officer of the guard, Fanny once again was arrested for insubordination. Now here he stood before Old Pop Reynolds, attempting to explain himself and as usual, not doing a very good job. But if Fanny's frolicsome nature had ever amused his superiors, it did so no longer. This time he was court martialed. This time he was detained for weeks and very nearly missed the rest of his life. You see, during that interminable time, Fanny contritely considered his unwise choices and pondered the possibility that his heretofore preternatural good luck had finally run out. It had not run out, for in a gesture of unfathomable leniency, the court reprimanded Fanny and simply sent him on his way. So he then departed the nation's capital, July 18, 1861, where he would receive his orders just in time to take part in the Battle of Bull Run. For among the remarkable chapters in the history of the American uncivil war is one that tells of an uncompromising West Point cadet who rose to the rank of Brigadier General by the age of 24. And yet you reflect on the battlefield heroisms which made that spectacular promotion possible, and you will bear in mind the pattern of petulance and the capricious character that premiered at West Point and exploded at Little Bighorn. Of course, you remember the unsoldier like cadet whose golden curls earned him the nickname Fanny. You remember him as General George Armstrong Custer. Only now you know the rest of the story.