Trivia buffs might be amused to learn Congress ordered a dairy established at the Naval Academy in 1911, after an outbreak of typhoid fever among midshipmen was traced to a local milk supplier.
Efficiency buffs will be less amused to learn the Naval Academy Dairy still exists, supplying milk and fruit drinks to midshipmen—at prices $260,000 higher per year than a commercial dairy would charge.
In a recent report, the Defense Department’s Inspector General says it is time the Navy sold the herd and closed the farm. Academy officials agree. Their challenge is to do so without spooking a stampede of discontent from the local community.
The military’s only dairy is located on 865 acres of gently rolling hills near the town of Gambrills, 15 miles northwest of the Academy in Annapolis, Maryland. The herd has more than 300 cows, half of which produce 230,000 gallons of milk a year for the Brigade of Midshipmen, their only customer. The dairy also packages orange juice, iced tea, and punch for the school.
To cover its costs, including salaries for 14 full-time employees, the dairy sells its produce to the Academy at 30-40 cents more per gallon than charged by commercial suppliers, said Academy spokesman Captain Tom Jurkowsky.
Turns out it is the midshipmen, not taxpayers, getting milked on the deal. Food and drink for their dining halls are purchased through a midshipmen store account funded by a food allowance of $4.75 a day, which midshipmen do not see. Because the fund’s size is fixed each year, the practice of buying higher- priced milk does not impact on Academy costs. It does leave less money available to improve the menu. “If we can get dairy products cheaper,” said Captain Jurkowsky, “it will allow us to buy better-quality cuts of meat, more fish, maybe even better deserts.”
This is not the first time the dairy has come under fire. When someone, perhaps a potential competitor, suggested closing it 30 years ago, Representative L. Mendel Rivers (D-SC), then chairman of the House Armed Services Committee, sent a congressional delegation to investigate, including Ralph Marshall, a committee staffer. Marshall now cannot recall what the delegation found, but it was enough to convince Representative Rivers that the dairy should stay open.
That was enough in those days to make it happen. The chairman won re-election every two years on a slogan “Rivers Delivers.” Colleagues joked that if one more defense project were shifted to Charleston, the city would sink into the sea.
To protect the dairy, Representative Rivers inserted language in the 1968 Military Construction Act that described the dairy as “an economic and morale-building asset” that must not be closed “unless specifically authorized by an Act of Congress." Was it pure pork served up to please a Maryland colleague? Marshall doesn’t think so. “He wanted to provide fresh milk and ice cream for the midshipmen,” Marshall said. "There was no other ulterior motive. As long as he lived, it would survive.”
And then some. Representative Rivers died in 1970, but the dairy has pumped out milk, largely unnoticed outside the Academy, for 25 more years—and counting.
Academy officials began serious discussions to close the dairy several years ago. When ready to act, they expect Congress to be sympathetic in getting the Navy out of the dairy business. The latest Inspector General report should help. Admiral Charles Larson, Academy Superintendent, has begun to review options for disposing of the land. The Academy, Captain Jurkowsky said, wants to ensure two results: that proceeds from any sale be used to benefit midshipmen and Academy life, and that the farm not be sold for a purpose that would disrupt harmony or lower property values in Gambrills. In 1994, when the town first learned that the dairy might be closed, 3,700 residents signed a petition opposing the move.
“Any decision Admiral Larson makes is going to be in concert with our Board of Visitors as well as local and state community leaders,” Captain Jurkowsky said. “We are not going to turn this thing into a shopping mall or a big real estate deal.”
Pete Peterson, a retired navy supply officer, has managed the dairy for the past 13 years. His staff begins milking the herd at 0230 each day. Work ends about 1900 after the second milking. The staff lives on the farm with their families in small rent- free homes that are a part of the compensation package. Turnover is low. One worker retired in April 1994 after 48 years. “His son, the foreman has lived here all his life,” Peterson said.
The dairy is entirely self-sufficient. But, Peterson conceded, “I wouldn’t doubt [milk] could be procured for somewhat less” from another supplier.
From his perspective, Peterson said, disposing of the farm “would be a foolish move.” The Academy should weigh “noneconomic issues” such as future expansion needs, he said. The farm could be a good site for an observatory or a new football stadium. If the dairy is to close, Peterson said, “I wish to heck they’d make the decision and get it over with.” All the talk, he said, “weighs heavily” on the staff.