2 October 2011 Color of choice anything but green

          With entry into the U.S. Army of the late 1960’s one began to see the world with Olive Drab lenses from within a green uniform. 

          At the recruit in-processing depots, one was handed a large green duffle.  Into this, one loaded fatigue uniforms (OD green) Class A greens, boot socks, field jacket, ball cap, and other personal items of clothing.  With the exception of the soon to vanish Khaki summer uniform, all were some shade of green. 

          During training, we lived in a green world.  We put on freshly washed and starched clothing each morning and sent it to the base laundry, covered with mud, grass stains, LSA stains, and in some instances, blood, at the end of each training day. 

          In transit to VietNam, we carried all of our khaki and green clothing.  That clothing was taken from us at Oakland and replaced with jungle fatigues.  Towels, washcloths, underwear, the few non-green things we had were replaced with OD copies. 

          We lived in a green world of rice paddies, rain forests, elephant grass, and other growing things, which we bombed, shelled, Rome-plowed, and dug into to reveal a red, iron-rich laterite soil that stained everything it touched a dirty red.  Even the OD fatigues and flak jackets we wore became impregnated with laterite.  Still the predominant color of our world was green. 

          For the duration of our tours, we all talked about getting back to the World and wearing civilian clothes that were not green.

          When I DEROS’d (returned to the World) I wound up back in Oakland Army Terminal at about 0300.   Because we were required to clear the post in Class A greens once we were handed our orders and travel pay we still had to wait to leave for the airport until the base civilian employees reported to work at 0800 to sew the proper patches on new Class A greens and hem our new pants.  This meant I couldn’t clear posts until about 0900.  

          I shared a cab to SFO to book a military standby flight.  Nothing was available for departure until after 1900.  This meant that I couldn’t fly standby.  It also meant I didn’t have to travel in my uniform.  After booking my flight, I caught a cab to the nearest town to buy some civilian clothes.  I bought pants, a shirt, and a jacket, put them on in the shop, and took the ride back to SFO to wait for my flight.  It only slowly dawned on me how heavily imprinted I was.  Every item I had bought was some shade of green. 

          It took well over a year before I could look at clothing and not

automatically drift toward something green.   End of tale.