That defining moment took place on October 12, 1961, at the Rod and Gun Club near McKellar's Pond at Fort Bragg, North Carolina. Present that day were the new Special Forces commander, the recently promoted Brigadier General Bill Yarborough; President John F. Kennedy's military aide, Major General Chester V. (Ted) Clifton; President Kennedy himself; and assorted other dignitaries.
Kennedy had ostensibly come down to Bragg for two purposes. One was to observe an Army division, the 82nd Airborne, drawn up on Simmons Airfield with guidons flying and all of its supporting weapons and equipment — Clifton had felt the young President would benefit from watching an entire Army division spread out before him. The other reason, however, was the real purpose of the trip, as Clifton, the President, and Bill Yarborough were well aware: It was to let Kennedy experience what Special Forces could do.
Kennedy was already favorably inclined toward special operations. In his eyes, they were glamorous, and Kennedy was always favorably inclined toward glamour. But far more important to him, Special Forces had the potcntial to do things that he very badly wanted done.
Back then, Kennedy had a vision that few of the nation's leaders shared. He saw the likelihood that the United States would soon find itself entangled in a new kind of conflict that would pose a new kind of threat. In his words, we faced 'another type of war' than we were used to, one that challenged our normal ways of waging war, 'new in its intensity, ancient in its origins — war by guerrillas, subversives, insurgents, assassins; war by ambush instead of by combat; by infiltration instead of by aggression, seeking victory by eroding and exhausting the enemy instead of engaging him. It requires, in those situations where we must encounter it, a whole new kind of strategy, a wholly different kind of force.'
A vivid, exciting, and properly staged Special Forces show, Clifton and Yarborough agreed, would surely demonstrate for their commander-in-chief that the Army already possessed the kind of soldier and force needed to prevail in this new arena. It was far from fully formed and developed, no one would deny that, but Yarborough thought he could demonstrate that he had the core needed to build it.
As an added boon that day, for the first time at an official function, the Special Forces troops wore their far- from-official but much-cherished headgear — the green beret. At that time, wearing green berets as an item of uniform was strictly forbidden. The Army of the 1960s did not allow a distinetive uniform for 'elite' troops like Special Forces or paratroopers. The name of the game was uniformity and homogenization. Even so, all Special Forces troops kept a green beret somewhere, and wore it on field mancuvers in remote areas, or when no one who could do anything about it was looking.
Bill Yarborough and Ted Clifton had been classmates and close friends at West Point, and remained lifetime friends. Before Kennedy's trip to Fort Bragg, Clifton and Yarborough had debated the wearing of the beret for the President. On the downside, they were putting their military careers at risk. On the upside, they felt that the Special Forces needed to be recognized as extraordinary by their military colleagues and the public. To Yarborough, a man profoundly sensitive to symbols, the beret was not simply a distinctive piece of clothing, but an emblem.
'I think the President would like to see your guys in their green berets,' said Clifton.
'So do I,' Yarborough replied. 'But, of course, they're not authorized.'
'Well,' Clifton said, 'you tell them to come out wearing it.'
'What happens after that?'
'Whatever it is, we'll fix it.'
And so on the twelfth of October, green berets of a grand variety of shades and textures, some of them veterans of dozens of field exercises, emerged from every kind of hiding place. The men wearing them that day stood proud in a way they had never been allowed to before. And the smiling young president was delighted.
Later, even as the Uniform Board of the Army tried to grapple with this outrage, a telegram from the White House came to Brigadier General Yarborough, indicating that the President had given his approval to the beret as a symbol of excellence. From that moment on, the green beret was officially sanctioned.
Since then, berets of many varieties have become official headgear for U.S. Army units — first for recognized elites such as Rangers (black berets) and paratroopers (red-maroon). More recently — amid considerable controversy — the entire Army has been given the privilege of wearing black berets (the Rangers will now wear tan).
Be that as it may, the wearing of the berets was not the main event back on that warm autumn day forty years ago. The main event was the 'Gabriel Demonstration,' named after a Special Forces soldier named Gabriel — though the name's associations with the announcing angel Gabriel were not forgotten. The idea was to display the variety, flexibility, and resourcefulness of the A-Detachments as played off against some of the more significant challenges they might be expected to face. Normally, they would have taken the President around to various locations where the teams were in action, but that would not work here, partly because of the nature of special forces, which operate in widely separated areas and in clandestine and covert situations, making observation difficult — but mostly, Ted Clifton informed Yarborough beforehand, because Kennedy's bad back didn't allow him much movement.
Instead of bringing the President to the show, they would have to bring the show to the President.
To that end, Clifton and Yarborough worked out a system in which Special Forces skill groups would pass a reviewing stand on floats (or using floats as props) mounted on flatbed trucks. Each one would stop in front of the President, and that element's activity would be revealed. There was little emphasis on equipment, gear, and weapons. The emphasis was on people.
One float, for example, showed an enemy guerrilla base like those in Laos, South Vietnam, and elsewhere in Southeast Asia. Such bases were hard to find, fix, or destroy, since they moved in fluid fashion and were concealed in swamps, jungles, or mountain hideaways. Finding and destroying such bases, the President was told, required highly trained, specially equipped, light mobile combat units. Special Forces A-Detachments could perform in these roles, but more appropriately, they could train others to do so.
Another float showed how the language and cultural training possessed by A-Detachment troops allowed them to train and assist native forces. Another showed how Special Forces civic actions (such as medical help) supplemented their combat functions, benefited ordinary folks who might otherwise help the bad guys, and helped drain away the seas where enemy guerrillas swam.
Others showed Special Forces psychological and communications skills — by broadcast, loudspeakers in villages, or leaflets. Thousands of leaflets fell out of the sky that day to reinforce the point. Others showed more traditional special operations — such as training friendly guerrillas to operate against enemy convoys and supply dumps deep within enemy territory.
The show worked.
Shortly thereafter, presidential approval came for a much larger Special Forces — more groups, more men, and much more money.
This growth came at a price. The 'big' Army was not comfortable with Special Forces, and the presidential blessing did not increase their comfort. Before Bill Yarborough had taken over as commander, Special Forces had been minor and marginalized, though perhaps useful in a protracted conflict. Members of Special Forces could not expect long army careers or fast promotions. It was a dead-end unit.
Much of the army leadership in the Pentagon would have been happy if Special Forces stayed that way.
Before Kennedy's visit, Bill Yarborough got this message loud and clear from more than one friendly and well-meaning superior. For example, the commander of the XVIII Airborne Corps, a three-star general, told him: 'You just got your star, Bill, but I'm going to tell you straight. You're trying to pull off something that nobody much likes and that nobody's going to accept unless the President is dead sold on it. I mean, he has to be
On the other hand, it would be wrong to paint the 'big' Army as totally obstructionist.
When Bill Yarborough took over the Special Warfare Center[3] in 1961, one of his first directives to his staff was to work out the philosophy that would shape the center according to President Kennedy's aims — a difficult job made more difficult by the 'big' Army's failure to understand the problems Kennedy was trying to address. However, important elements in the Army did in fact try very hard to carry out the President's desires in the counterinsurgency arena.
