I followed a Soldier down the sidewalk this week and was struck by the appearance of his uniform. To an old Soldier like me, it didn’t look very sharp.
The Soldier was wearing ACUs. The boots were a scuffed tan, the trousers baggy; the tunic was loose and looked soft.
No, it wasn’t sharp, like things were back in the day — and I can only say, “It’s about time.”
I date back to the post-Vietnam days; that was even pre-BDU. There were a lot more uniforms in our duffle bags in those days. We had khakis for class B wear in the summer; and two kinds of green uniforms — summer and winter — both made from wool. We had olive drab wool shirts and trousers to wear in the field in the winter. There were wind breakers, trench coats and wool overcoats. We had service caps (the old bus driver hat) and garrison caps.
All of that took a lot of maintenance — even though most Soldiers rarely wore any of it. Except for a few headquarters types, all those class A and B uniforms came out only for payday muster formations and parades. Then there were fatigues. Now there was a uniform that looked sharp. Fatigues were made of soft cotton in their natural state. But no real Soldier left them looking that way. The term “breaking starch” was almost literally true. I had pants so stiff I could lean them up against the wall like a board.
A shirt receiving that treatment had more in common with a conquistador’s breastplate than with ACUs today. Those fatigues were sharp, no doubt about it — the only problem was that, many times, the Soldiers wearing those uniforms weren’t.
That was an era when much of the Army’s effort seemed devoted to putting up a good appearance, rather than really being ready to go to war. Don’t get me wrong; there were great Soldiers around and some great units, too. But, overall, there was just something out of whack with the way many things were done. It was the heyday of the “hollow” Army.
There have been a lot of uniform changes since I first forced my legs through a pair of those rigid fatigue trousers. From the perspective of one who has watched them all, every major change has been for the better. Uniforms now are designed to be practical, not just to look good. There are still standards to be maintained — important for discipline and a Soldier’s pride in himself and his organization. But they are tempered by the requirements of real battlefields and real missions.
In the Civil War, Americans on both sides wore uniforms — kepis, frock coats — modeled on the French, who had been winning glory in North Africa. When the Prussians crushed the French in 1870-71, the U.S. Army adopted spiked helmets, so U.S. Soldiers could look like the winners. At the turn of the last century, we switched uniforms to look like the British.
Now American Soldiers are wearing uniforms designed for real needs in combat. They might not look sharp according to past standards, but even old Soldiers’ attitudes can be changed. And the winners setting the fashion trends now, are Americans