The building attained its final synthesis through the collaboration of a Cleveland architect and a National Army captain of engineers.  It is so single in its appeal that one does not care to inquire too closely into the part of each in the performance; both are in evidence, for an architect seldom succeeds in being so direct and simple, while an engineer seldom succeeds in being so gracious and altogether suave.

Entirely aside from its aesthetic interest—­based as this is on beauty of organism almost alone—­the building is notable for the success with which it fulfils and co-ordinates its manifold functions:  those of a dormitory, a restaurant, a ballroom, a theatre, and a lounge.  The arm of the cross containing the principal entrance accommodates the office, coat room, telephones, news and cigar stand, while leaving the central nave unimpeded, so that from the door one gets the unusual effect of an interior vista two hundred feet long.  The restaurant occupies the entire left transept, with a great brick fireplace at the far end.  There is another fireplace in the centre of the side of the arm beyond the crossing; that part which would correspond in a cathedral to the choir and apse being given over to the uses of a reading and writing room.  The right transept forms a theatre, on occasion, terminating as it does with a stage.  The central floor spaces are kept everywhere free except in the restaurant, the sides and angles being filled in with leather-covered sofas, wicker and wooden chairs and tables, arranged in groups favourable to comfort and conversation.  Two stairways, at the right and left of the restaurant, give access to the ample balcony and to the bedrooms, which occupy three of the four ends of the arms of the cross at this level.

The appearance and atmosphere of this great interior is inspiring; particularly of an evening, when it is thronged with soldiers, and civilian guests.  The strains of music, the hum of many voices, the rhythmic shuffle on the waxed floor of the feet of the dancers—­these eminently social sounds mingle and lose themselves in the spaces of the roof, like the voice of many waters.  Tobacco smoke ascends like incense, blue above the prevailing green-brown of the crowd, shot here and there with brighter colors from the women’s hats and dresses, in the kaleidoscopic shifting of the dance.  Long parallel rows of orange lights, grouped low down on the lofty pillars, reflect themselves on the polished floor, and like the patina of time on painted canvas impart to the entire animated picture an incomparable tone.  For the lighting, either by accident or by inspiration, is an achievement of the happiest, an example of the friendliness of fate to him who attempts a free solution of his problem.  The brackets consist merely of a cruciform arrangement of planed pine boards about each column, with the end grain painted red.  On the under side of each arm of the cross is a single electric bulb enclosed within an orange-coloured shade to kill the glare.  The light makes the bare wood of the fixture appear incandescent, defining its geometry in rose colour with the most beautiful effect.