Are you a punk historian?

Military history buffs come in many flavours – some intrigued by grand strategy, others by the common soldier’s experience. There’s the study of command, technical innovation, weaponry, the nexus between politics and war. But me? I’m more of a Punk Historian, fascinated by military miscellany – the origins of dits, legends, kit and the near-mystical concept of ally – ness (out of pure jealousy, given I’m the un-allyest person ever. In uniform I looked like a sack of tits tied up in the middle). Craig asked me to write on the subject. I was naturally thrilled and activated my network of gnarly ex-squaddies for their views.

The Origins of Ally

I’m going to give you a flavour of how the British army has always valued unconventional military fashion. Here’s an excerpt from Cornelius Ryan’s masterful account of Operation Market Garden, ‘A Bridge too Far’. An observer describes the audience for Lt. Gen. Brian Horrocks’ briefing –

There was a real casualness about everyone’s attire… most commanders were dressed in ‘sniper’s smocks, parachutist’s jackets and jeep coats over brightly coloured slacks, corduroys, riding breeches or even jodhpurs’. Instead of ties many sported ascots or ‘scarves of various colours’.

How cool is that? About to drive their tanks across the most water-logged country in the world while being sniped at by Jerry 88’s. Being brave isn’t enough – they’ve got to look the part too. That’s ally. Of course, soldiers have always been history’s most egregious dandies, peacocks and poseurs. From Vikings painting dragons on their shields to paras cutting the brims off jungle hats, soldiers have always wanted to look cool in the face of danger. Just think of the Spartans, busy grooming their hair before the Persian onslaught at Thermopylae.

Oh, the vanity!

Sometimes this coolness is borne of necessity (for example, the evolution of uniform items such as the para smock or the adoption of the shemagh). Others simply out of martial vanity or a tribal urge to look different from those twats in ‘B’ Coy (‘flat-cap’ style berets or Royal Marines in ballgowns). Style, humour and morale have always been connected – think of nose art on fighter planes, or messages chalked on ordnance, be it a WW2 Lancaster or a modern-day JDAM.

Wars have always driven civilian fashion. The British army, for example, gave us the wristwatch (WW1), the trench-coat (ditto), the cardigan (named after the eponymous Crimean War commander. If you don’t think cardigans are cool you’re probably too young to remember Detective Starsky). We can also thank Crimea for the not-as- ally balaclava helmet (but let’s not go there). Crossover military-to-civilian fashion aside, how else does the military peacock shake a tail feather?

Wings, Daggers, Patches and Flashes

During the 70s and 80s, the British Army largely eschewed insignia on combat uniforms. For the simple reason it revealed useful intelligence to the enemy. We had the Soviet’s ORBAT (ORder of BATtle) and they had ours. Each side wanted to give as little away as possible to the other. You’d see the occasional set of Parachute wings or maybe a Commando dagger. I once saw an ACE Mobile Force flash (bonus spotter points). However, being British, this lack of plumage did nothing to stop epic ally -ness. Look at these paras – so ally they don’t even see the need to wear their wings as they storm the Falklands (face veil scarves and hessian helmet scrim is so hot again this season, and like little black cocktail dresses the SLR will never go out of fashion. I’d love to see a respirator bag revival, so handy!).

Badge envy

By the mid-2010’s the army had become badge-barmy (the Taleban ORBAT was wobbly to say the least, and they didn’t seem overly concerned about ours). The sale of badges sent the share price of Velcro through the roof – TRFs, blood-patches, morale-patches, divisional flashes, ISAF badges and probably (somewhere) a Home Help badge. For example, here we have an example of Peak Patch, courtesy of the Duke of Sussex –

Tacti-cool

My generation had Airfix soldiers, Commando comics and Kelly’s Heroes. Today’s have Call of Duty, Airsoft and Strikeback. Kids born around the time of 9/11 are now in the army. They’ve grown up with the cultural impact of nearly twenty years of war. If anything, the impact on high-street fashion, games and even slang is more pronounced. Social media is making all things ally viral (the actor Tom Hardy described something as ‘ ally ’ recently, I kid you not). College kids carry 5.11 bags festooned with MOLLE, and gamer-geeks cover their laptop bags with morale patches. ‘Veteran Culture’ (especially in the US) is A Thing, with former soldiers setting up their own clothing brands and YouTube channels. The dusty, bearded Yank operator of post 9/11 Afghanistan has become every bit as iconic as the Vietnam-era GI, a packet of Marlboro tucked in his helmet band.

Danner Boots???

What does this mean for the everyday squaddie? He’s got even more ways to spunk his pay. 1980s squaddie was deemed a kit-freak if he bought a decent Bergen, a pair of Danners and a Gore-Tex jacket. Nowadays? Although many soldiers accept issue kit has come on leaps and bounds since Op TELIC, it’s still easy for eager young squaddies to burn through cash as he (and it’s usually a he, women being less prone to kit-freakery) buys top-end eye protection, the latest hi-spec boots, smocks, radio-synced G-shock and GPS Garmin watches, hydration systems, knives, torches… and that’s just Pte. Snooks from the RLC.

Nostalgia – it ain’t what it used to be

Armies need tradition and history – which they express partly through their appearance. The first time I heard the story of the Gloucestershire Regiment and it’s unique ‘back-badge’, I thought it was the coolest thing ever. In the British army it’s as if every button, lanyard, belt-buckle and collar-dog tells a story. Bearded pioneer sergeants with axes? Ally. Terrifyingly kilted Scotsmen with daggers stuffed in their socks? Yeah, ally. Any uniform with a Kukri on the belt (and you’re actually a Gurkha)? Ally.

This is also an area where rank (and, by association, Class) plays a role – officers often get better service and mess dress than other ranks (my man in impossibly tight trousers admits to loving his ‘Pride & Prejudice’ rig, namely for the effect he says it has on women called Fiona). Consider the other ranks’ itchy No.2 dress with hilarious ties and too-short trousers, as opposed to the officers with their Sam Browne belts, swords and brogues.

Even the yanks are in on it

Nostalgia wangles its way into active service ally too. As I said, young paras this year are wearing scrim-scarves like 80s Action Men (back in the day some of the old and bold were wearing puttees and Denison smocks well into the mid-1990s – I notice Prince Charles still wears his). Even the Americans are in on it. Their new dress uniform deliberately designed to evoke an era when they fought more conventional, less ethically ambiguous wars. The ‘Pinks and Greens’ were ally in 1944, maybe… what about now?

The Circle of Ally

Or, is anti- ally the new ally? One of my sources writes…

I was flying back from Cyprus, and in the departure area at Akrotiri were a number of soldiers returning from Afghanistan. They were ally ‘d up to the eyeballs – a fortune had been spent at Silverman’s by this lot. Nobody really noticed the unassuming group of about 20 guys who were all dressed in issued kit (Salomon boots excluded) keeping a low profile. No points for guessing who they were….

Maybe wearing boringly-issued kit and turning down the volume is the New Ally after all.

The Table of Ally – ness

Like all fashion, what is or isn’t ally is dynamic and subjective. Therefore I urge you to create your own ally table (this works better after a few beers) and come up with your own list. Here’s one I prepared earlier.

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