Welcome back to Combat Threads. Instead of looking at historical events or trends, this week, I am going to be looking at a single garment. A large part of my interest in military clothing isn’t only how it ends up in popular fashion (that is to say, the clothes we wear every day from all manner of shops, from the mall to the thrift store) but also in collecting it myself. Since I was about 7 or 8, I have been buying militaria of one kind or another. Since the pandemic, this has mostly been online. I get a thrill out of hunting disorganized platforms like Depop, Poshmark, and Facebook Marketplace for diamonds in the rough. Spend any time around vintage military clothing in the fashion/style space (as opposed to the military collecting world), and one of the most common reframes you will hear about what makes these garments so interesting is that they appear to all have an aura or a history to them. What is that stain, blood? (it is never blood, FYI). What did these patches mean? The name tapes reveal the original owner, etc.
Often times military garments found in the wild have little history to reveal. They sat in storage for decades, bought at a surplus store and worn for recreation, sat in a musty duffle bag until being donated after the original owner passed away. On the other hand, garments that do stories to tell are often missing key clues that would help unlock them. One patch is missing, a name tape has been removed, or multiple names are scrawled on the inside. But histories are out there. I have had lots of great luck over the years researching garments that come into my collection, from an orange souvenir jacket belonging to an Air Force General to a flight jacket of an Australian Naval helicopter pilot who flew in Vietnam. Today I want to look at a more humble piece of clothing, an OG-107 fatigue shirt.
I found this shirt on Depop a few months ago, sold by “nicof2020” out of Tampa, Florida. I paid $40 for the shirt, including shipping. I was drawn to the shirt immediately as it appeared to have nearly all its original patches intact, including what appeared to be a Vietnam War “theater-made” patch on the left-hand pocket. Furthermore, the shirt was not a US military issue but a commercial copy made with shoulder loops and short sleeves.
I gave the shirt a proper inspection when it arrived. This was when I discovered that the left sleeve featured an added pocket. The fabric of the pocket was the same as the shirt, but the stitches were smaller and not as precise as those of the rest, leading me to believe the pocket was added by the owner and not when it was made. Pen pockets like these are common in flight jackets and flight suits from the era, designed to be easily accessible while a pilot is sitting down. The tag in the neck of the shirt revealed it to be a “Quality Fatigue” made by “Good Luck,” marked with an “M” for medium. The label features a variation of the US Army Air Forces shoulder sleeve insignia from WWII. “Good Luck” was a common maker of commercial US Army fatigues and can be found with a few different labels, none of which state the country of origin. They could have been made in the US and marketed to military personnel or made in Japan or Vietnam for US troops stationed there.
The patches sewn onto the shirt are what would eventually allow the owner to be identified. Above the right breast pocket is the standard “US Army” tape. This identified the service of the wearer. The black and gold style was authorized for use from 1953 to 1967, when it was replaced by a more “subdued” coloration. Above this is a sewn a khaki and white US Army Aviator Wings patch, denoting the owner of the shirt as an Army aviator, likely a helicopter pilot. The right breast pocket features a replacement button, unlike the others used on the shirt. On the right collar, a small patch depicting crossed swords and a tank identify the branch of the wearer as Armor. On the left collar, only “ghosting” of rank insignia is visible. Sewn onto the left pocket is a round patch depicting a black dragon in profile with a red eye and spitting a stream of red fire on a white field. Below the dragon, a black scroll reads “119th Air Mobile” in gold embroidery. The embroidery of the patch is unlike the others; the embroidery of this patch is done by hand with simple stitchwork. This patch shows the unit or military formation the owner belonged to and bears all the hallmarks of a “theater-made” patch. Above the pocket is the single most important patch for identifying the owner, the name tape with the soldier’s last name: Faidley. So far, I know the shirt belonged to a US Army aviator in the 119th Air Mobile named Faidley, who likely served in Vietnam.
With this information, I set out to find out more. First, I looked up the unit on the left chest pocket. Luckily, in this case, the name of the unit is included on the patch. In other cases, I would have to look up the description of the patch. I was easily able to look up the 119th Air Mobile Company. The unit originally arrived in Vietnam in 1962 and was redesignated the 119th Air Mobile Company in 1963. This was when the dragon patch was designed and made. The unit changed its patch design sometime between 1963 and 1970 when the 119th left Vietnam.
On Facebook, I was able to find a group for veterans of the 119th Air Mobile Company. Here I posted a photo of the shirt and asked if anyone remembered Faidley or his first name. With the help of a few group members, I could connect the rest of the dots. The shirt belonged to Paul Faidley, a helicopter pilot in the 119th Air Mobile Company who served in Vietnam from 1962-63.
Now with his name, I was able to do a lot more research. First, I was able to find his obituary, which provided an overview of his life. Here, it stated that Paul had graduated from Kansas State University. With this information, I could locate Paul's photos in the KSU yearbooks. Paul was born in 1936 in Clay Center, Kansas, the son of a farmer. He attended Kansas State University, where he enrolled in Army’s Reserve Officers' Training Corps and was commissioned as a 2nd Lieutenant upon graduation. He Deployed to Vietnam in September 1962 with the 81st Transportation Company. He was stationed at Camp Halloway near Pleiku, South Vietnam, flying CH-21 "Flying Banana" helicopters. In early 1963, the 81st Transportation Company was redesignated the 119th Air Mobile Company; this is when the dragon patch would have been added to his fatigue shirt. After returning from Vietnam, he trained other Army helicopter pilots before leaving the Army and joining Southern Airways, teaching the Army Primary Helicopter Course at Ft. Wolters in Mineral Wells, TX. He worked in aviation for the rest of his life and passed away in June 2021.
This is just one example of the research that one can do with a uniform, with all the right clues. Often times a piece won’t have all these helpful clues, but sometimes you can get lucky and discover a worthwhile story. The wear and tear, names, and patches imbue these garments with a sense of “authenticity.” While for many of these garments, the story they hold may simply be of a boy scout, a house painter, or a surplus store, every once in a awhile you can find a real gem with a story waiting to be found.
Till next time,
C.W.M.
* * *
this is great
Very cool post! I have done the same thing with found military items, and have been lucky about half the time. I was going to comment that the pen pocket on the sleeve was commonly done in Korea in the 1950s and sometimes into the 1960s, but from his story it seems like the guy had it done in Vietnam.