The Pitfalls of Civilian Clothes Day

We’ve been annoying the Penthouse chain of command for months to let us do a Civilian Clothes Friday Fundraiser. Our directorate's Sergeant Major is less than enthused and always changes the topic of discussion to something else, like the looming APFT that no one really wants to take. In all honesty, there are times when letting Soldiers choose the civilian clothing option is a treasure trove of wardrobe faux pas that can potentially leave you wishing you’d just given them the alternative to pay just to leave work early. At least then you can get paperwork done without wondering what the subliminal statement your soldiers were trying to impart with their attire.  Then again, there really isn’t that big of a threat with the Penthouse crew. The lowest ranking individual on the floor is a SSG, who by all accounts really runs the place. The biggest hazard to attire selection for our crowd is the potential overabundance of Sans-a-belt pants and Nike golf shirts. That, and the fact that Aircraft Shootdown Team will all show up looking like they staggered out of a Scott convention. We wouldn’t know though because they spend their whole time in the office hiding behind a locked door and avoiding people, worshiping their SIPR network and their general awesomeness like a Scottish-appareled Gollum.

Having been a company commander, I admit that I fell prey to the lure of Civilian Clothes Fridays. It was a good way to fill the company’s cup-and-flower fund without having to resort to cooking meth in the motorpool or auctioning PVS-7Bs on eBay. My soldiers were pretty much the upper echelon of the intelligence spectrum in the Army. I’m not kidding. I’m not saying this to be mean or be all superior, but it’s a fact. The highest Army GT and ASVAB scores are held for air traffic controllers. This means that I didn’t have menial concerns. If they got in trouble it was going to be for something epic and monumental. Thus, civilian clothes day was never an issue for me.

I cannot say the same for some of my peers. I’m sorry. Luck can be sh*tty like that.

There are four potential landmines that can appear during civilian clothes day:

1. I didn’t know my solider was a prostitute.

Okay, Don’t Ask Don’t Tell is gone. There is a chance that you may discover one of male gendered soldiers can pull off glittery jeans and a halter top better than Shakira. I’ll admit that you’ll have to deal with that issue when it comes to your desk and/or stands on your red carpet. The concern I’m addressing is your female Minion that just walked out of the training office looking like she’s been doing a little moonlighting at the Cat West Bar on Campbell Blvd. You’re not totally sure how she got “all that a** inside them jeans,” but you fear her sitting down because she might cause the seams to blow out, fully exposing the Fredrick’s of Hollywood thong that has been playing peekaboo in her a**crack, between her Juicy Couture jeans and her lace babydoll t-shirt.

2. I didn’t know my soldier was Lil’ Wayne.

I can’t offer any advice in this case, but try to resist the urge to pull their pants up for them.

3. I didn’t know my soldier was Pig Pen.

They rolled out of bed and made sure to jump on the wrinkle grenade before heading to the office. They sort of match, if “match” is defined as being dressed by a colorblind leper. You stand there wondering how your soldier makes it from Friday date night to Monday morning PT in an adequately clothed state. Does someone, like the barracks NCO, dress them before they leave for the evening? Did they manage to sneak out before a buddy could fix them today? Is that an actual bird nesting in their hair? You’re pretty sure that this soldier is totally squared away and clean shaven in uniform any other day of the week, but he looks like one of those Occupy Wall Street kids now... and not one of those hipster-smartly-attired-with-requisit-scarf-and-skinny-jeans-while-hoisting-a-Starbucks-and-an-iPhone4 hipsters either. He looks like the naked guy you saw on the news last night who was being prison showered off with a fire hose by the police after he beshat himself in their cruiser.

4. I didn’t know my soldier was part of the Gucci/Prada/Versace/Dior empire. 

Yes, you're awesome, and I look like
a hot mess. Please take your
 Diorness out to the motorpool now.

Sadly enough, I do know how this feels. I had a soldier who was always smartly dressed no matter what the function was. Hail and Farewell for the Battalion? Shows up looking like a full-page ad in last month’s Vogue or Vanity Fair or GQ.  Civilian Clothes Friday? Arrives looking like they came directly from NYC Fashion Week. I love clothes and shoes. Really love them. I couldn’t even complete with this soldier. Even my battalion CSM commented to me one day that my soldier was always sharply dressed and looked professional, at any time of day. I hung my head because I was wearing old jeans and a t-shirt that announced to everyone “Wisconsin Cheddar Rocks my Socks.” Can you blame me? I was at the commissary on a Saturday afternoon. The soldier in question: my 1SG.

Inevitably, as a commander, your highly professional NCOs, warrant officers, and junior branch officers will probably address these issues long before first formation, saving you the humiliation of actually having to tackle this matter yourself. Except for that last one. Because let me tell you… there is nothing quite like the judgmental look of smartly dressed 1SG Judgey McJudgerson when you’re sportin’ a worn-out, paper-thin t-shirt that proudly declares your love for the Daleville Diner’s huge breakfast burrito. Aces.

The Five Unwritten Laws of Land Warfare

Here’s the thing about going to War: your personal higher deity made the Earth round so that you couldn't see too far down the primrose path known as your command. In other words, some whack things will happen that you will have to deal with that will have no ties to the actual business of closing with and destroying the enemy. You will have at least one incident as a commander where you will stand, slack-jawed in the presence of your unit’s senior NCO, while they either come into your little plywood office and close the door or pull you up alongside a Hesco barrier for that “little talk about SPC Who’sHisNuts.” I wish I could offer advice about it all or prepare you for this but just remember this little adage: 1LT is 2LT, with intent.

1. There is going to be a nasty fight. There may even be tears, snot and/or a trip to the aid station. I can’t tell you why Soldiers will be the best of friends while they are in garrison and immediately hate each other about eight or nine months into the rotation. What makes it more whack is that it will be some small infraction that causes this sudden cleave in friendship. You’ll come to the CP one day, discover that a cold war has erupted between a handful of your soldiers over a half-eaten styrofoam clamshell container of cold DFAC eggs with a side of Poo Fly. All the little machinations of the past few months will probably be saved for one glorious blow-up. Over runny, rubbery, fake eggs. Just remember: everyone else's side of the story is right and, before you even get involved trying to quell the violence, you’re wrong. Just go ahead and start chain smoking right now. It's easier.

2. You can potentially get a strap-hanger soldier or two. They don’t belong to you, but they’re always around, looking a little forlorn and pitiful. I don’t know who those soldiers belong to either, but just make a small effort to look after them. Eventually their unit will rotate home. 

She works at the Toy Box. She's just
paying her way through beauty
school... with your soldier's combat
pay. You're a lucky, lucky commander.

3. It is only acceptable to provide commander’s guidance to another commander’s soldier when there is imminent threat to life, limb, or eyes. This may also apply to the base being overrun by Taliban or if the unrelated soldier is about to be run over by a FLUOR contractor from Sri Lanka who’s never driven a Chevy Tahoe in his life… until that very day. Then, by all means, please speak up and say something. Otherwise, keep your trap shut and come talk to me or Top. We’ll fix it. 

4. One of your soldiers will probably marry a stripper right before you deploy. It will be one of two possibilities:

a. The soldier you most expect

b. The soldier you least expect

Either which way, you’ll probably guess wrong. Enjoy dealing with that, by the way.

5. Embrace this saying: If I hear the words “I’m so bored” again, you’re leaving for the Brigade Staff. In Bagram.

Day-Out-Night-Return Post: Death... by PowerPoint

Let me makes this very clear. I am not a fan of PowerPoint. I hate it. When slides come in front of my face, I want to do very bad things to people. I would normally say that it’s an irrational hatred of a Microsoft product that was designed to make everything run smoother and make pretty pictures from bad information. I look at a PowerPoint slide, and it’s like a pig staring at a wristwatch. I just sit there, mindlessly thinking about pleasanter things. I'm playing another level of Angry Birds in my mind. 

Because there is pictures.

Shiny, colorful pictures.

Ooooh, something just moved for a slide transition. Yippeee.

And yet, I am an officer. I have no choice but to learn to adapt to the necessity of PowerPoint because I’m going to need it in every staff job to do my thinking for me. I’m unnerved and scared at this idea.

The truth is that we have become dependent on systems to make things pretty and bad news into something palatable, rather than learning how to build ideas in our minds and explain them simply and efficiently. This unfortunately is a skill that is lost on the younger crowd of up and coming assistant S-3s, admin officers, and logisticians who really, REALLY run the Army. We’re wholly and completely addicted to making shiny slides that don’t really capture information well… and certainly don’t translate well into what our commander’s intent really, REALLY is. But, hot damn, don’t that sh*t look puuurrrty!

 The quadchart, a method of condensing information into a snapshot, is probably the closest we can get to simplifying data into fast, digestible tidbits on PowerPoint. Of course, that’s only if you use it right. If you feed a bunch of stuff, you’re stuck tap-dancing on cracker, trying to explain your fluff to the Old Man during Command and Staff. The Old Man don’t like fluff. He likes beer. Your poorly executed PowerPoint slide is driving him to be separated from his precious beer even longer. Which is why he’s sitting there, at the head of the briefing table, looking frustrated   constipated   at his watch   slightly concerned about your mental health. Like Dr. Jones choosing the right cup for the Holy Grail, he’s pretty sure picking you for command or a key staff position might lead him to age prematurely. Death… by PowerPoint.

Consider this when teaching a young soldier or planner to use PowerPoint: what would happen if they didn’t have it? Would they be able to execute a mission without it? Would they be able to translate and apply the commander’s intent without copy/paste from another source? Would they really, REALLY be able to explain themselves, their mission, their higher headquarters, and the commander’s desired end state as it applies to them?

Or would they be sitting there, imagining success at another level of Angry Birds?