UNIFORMS

I grew up with uniforms. They’ve been a big part of my life. My father and step-father were career Navy guys, and for most of my younger days we lived in base housing. I was later commissioned in the Navy upon graduation from college.

The nice thing about military uniforms is how much you can tell about a person at first glance. With some uniforms you can tell from a distance something about a person – which branch of military, which unit (green beret, maroon beret). A closer look will tell you his/her rank (Ya gotta know when to salute!), then the medals, awards, certifications (jump wings, aviator wings, EOD), and for enlisted folks, the length of service (on dress uniforms). My dad’s sleeves were full of stripes after 30 years.

When I transitioned to the CIA it was not as obvious – everyone wore similar outfits, but no rank, no indication of awards, or even the unit to which they were

assigned. You either know them or of them, or sometimes you never know who or what they are. There were a few embarrassing times when I would be in a meeting, for example. Everyone dressed the same, and I didn’t know who they were or what position or rank they

held. In cases of briefing or discussions which were sensitive, classified, or “need to know”, I had to limit my input unless I was properly introduced to them, and learned their right to the information.

War zones are particularly tricky for civilians, because it’s the same problem. I knew what MY team was, but there would be folks dressed in local garb, often disappearing at night right after dinner and dragging back tired and dirty for breakfast, doing who knows what in

boonies all night. Even our military tactical teams would be dressed in local garb, so it’s hard to tell who they were and where they are from, and particularly what they’re doing out there.

-Mike