"You know the stadium is a memorial, right?" asked Mr. Vosseler, who graduated from the academy 49 years ago. "When you're here, you think that you're part of it - a long line and a long, proud heritage. With other schools, you graduate and then you go away and never come back. Here, you come back every year."

Gary Wolfe, a retired master chief and former Navy musician, gave a knowing nod.

"When people come back here, they've literally served in all four corners of the world," Mr. Wolfe said. "They've been all over the globe, and they come home here."

This year, they came home in record numbers and were joined by family, friends and droves of University of Pittsburgh fans. Dozens of tents representing classes from 1949 to 2003 - and one dubbed "Class of No Class" - blanketed the grounds outside the stadium.

While the football game's attendance of 37,970 was the largest in the stadium's history, the Navy team received a homecoming beating for the third consecutive year.

The majority of fans had trickled out of the stadium by the time Navy scored its final touchdown with 20 seconds left. That gave No. 23 Pittsburgh a 42-21 win.

Though ostensibly about football, Navy's homecoming celebration also is about connecting with an institution and the traditions that shaped the lives of generations of sailors.

"It's everything that the Navy and Naval Academy stands for - people want to be a part of it," said Joe Bivona, whose company, E.C. Management, has provided meal service to midshipmen for the past 12 years. His business partner, Sam Bavaro, passed away earlier this year, after serving "millions of meals to midshipmen."

Every year, Mr. Bavaro set up a tent at homecoming to feed any Navy person who was hungry, and this year Mr. Bivona set it up without him.

"You really can't explain what it feels like to be here," Mr. Bivona said. "Even if you've been to every Navy game for the past 10 years, when you see the midshipmen walk in, it's like you're seeing it for the first time."

About 90 minutes later, Pittsburgh fan Diane Fedor perched atop a statue to get a better view of those mids.

"Oooh, here they come," she gushed. Her friend LuAnn Berkley shrugged.

"She's been grinning ear-to-ear all morning," Ms. Berkley said. "Men in uniform."

Over at the Sam Bavaro tent, Mr. Wolfe and Mr. Vosseler chatted while Mr. Wolfe's four-piece band, The Dixie Doctors, took a quick break.

Separated by decades, Mr. Wolfe and Mr. Vosseler met at an event like this in 1994. They don't see each other much, mostly at these reunions.

"You see people that you see all the time, and then you see people you haven't seen for years," Mr. Vosseler said. "You hear stories, most of them truthful, some of the not."

"It's an unmatched fraternity," Mr. Wolfe said.