Midshipmen pay tribute to their fallen comrade

Between the triumphant Sea Trials on the grass and water of the Naval Academy on Tuesday and the frantic climb up the Herndon Monument today, there was a time apart from the normal farewell rituals plebes use to mark the end of their first year.

Mourners were reminded during the service that everything has its own season: birth and death, weeping and laughing, war and peace. For the day, a season unto itself, the Naval Academy had turned from celebration to somber observance.

Stark white uniforms, a harbinger of warmer Annapolis days and the end of another school year, were mixed in with a sea of black, blue and gray, as hundreds paid tribute to the 19-year-old who suddenly died earlier this month.

They remembered an easygoing, compassionate optimist from Avondale, Pa., someone who would greet her varsity volleyball coach on his regular rounds of the players with a smile and assurance that all was well.

And why wouldn't it be? Midshipman Dickmann was tenacious, a competitor set to try for a starting position next year who kept the demands on her time in balance. She came to the Naval Academy to become the best leader possible, and never wavered in a belief that she belonged there.

They remembered a comic with a talent for practical jokes. Midshipman Dickmann's personality was so infectious that as she struggled to keep a straight face while being yelled at by superior officers, the rest of her company did too.

On April Fool's Day, she went to her company commander, Midshipman 1st Class Stephen Janco, with one of her company mates, Midshipman 4th Class Christopher Memminger. In the spirit of the day, they were going to falsely ask for a "love transfer," the term applied when someone switches companies to avoid running afoul of fraternization regulations.

Midshipman Janco wasn't mad at the faux news, however. He was too busy beaming with pride at the thought one of his own was lucky enough to date her.

"Dickmann, there's something different about you," the company commander would often tell her.

Her future was planned out. First, she would graduate with a physics major, then attend flight school, following in the steps of her father, Douglas, who flies for US Airways. From there, she would take to the air in C-2 Greyhounds, which deliver mail - "Everyone likes to get mail," she said to Midshipman Janco. The plebe vowed she was going to "be the best damn mailman in the Navy."

And yet, at the age of 19, her vivacious life was ended. On May 5, Midshipman Dickmann was found unconscious and not breathing in her bunk. A cause of death is still pending from the State's Medical Examiner's Office.

Midshipman Dickmann will remain a witness to the passing of seasons - be they of war or peace, sadness or celebration - on the campus of the Naval Academy, as her wooden coffin, covered in the red, white and blue of an American flag during the funeral, was placed in the cemetery on the institution's grounds.

For those at the ceremony, from the family that held each other and walked behind the hearse to the midshipmen who stopped and saluted it with red eyes and tears, she will always be closer.

"Midshipman Dickmann was almost oblivious to the impact she was having on those around her," said Chaplain Cameron Fish of the 5th Battalion. "God rarely allows a person to know how great a blessing he or she is.

"I think she knows now."