Category Archives: Uniforms
A conversation with an American adult in the age range of 18-35 regarding history would be very eye-opening for any World War II living veteran and possibly alarming. Imagine being a veteran who met the enemy on the field of battle in places such as France or Belgium let alone Morocco, Algeria, Leyte or the Aleutians and discovering that the person you are conversing with has absolutely no knowledge that the battles in which you fought either have no meaning or are completely unheard of. It is a difficult concept for people in my generation (born two decades after the end of World War II) that there are Americans who have graduated from high school and university and are detached from their nation’s history.
Arguably the most tragic American event in the Twentieth Century is the one that catapulted the United States into the Second World War and its memory is slipping away from the consciousness of her citizens. With more than 78 years elapsed since the Day of Infamy, the handful of survivors remaining alive at present are rather few as are nearing their tenth decade of life. They still remember that fateful day. Ninety-seven-year-old Seaman First Class, Donald Stratton, the only USS Arizona survivor to publish a memoir (All the Gallant Men, November 22, 2016), passed away just a few months ago on February 16 leaving just two men, Lou Conter and Ken Potts, as the last living survivors from the battleship.
Whether it was the first of several visits to the USS Arizona Memorial or the most recent one, standing above the hulk of the ship that was at the epicenter of the start of World War II (for the United States) is incredibly emotional to consider the violence that engulfed the harbor and very somber realization that one is immediately above the final resting place for the 1,177 men who perished that day. Looking down into the water to see the rusting twisted steel covered in sediment and marine growth as bunker fuel oil slowly seeps to the water’s surface, one can imagine the enemy planes flying in low for torpedo runs or looking into the skies to see high-altitude bombers overhead releasing their deadly destruction. Picturing men being blown over the sides of exploding ships or jumping into the inferno of burning oil atop the water’s surface amid the cacophony of machine gun fire and screams of burning and wounded men, isn’t difficult to envision from the decks of the memorial structure.
“Remember Pearl Harbor” and the sneak attack has been a fading klaxon call for Americans over the last few decades with a brief reminder when the United States was surprise attacked again on September 11, 2001.
A visitor to the USS Arizona Memorial will be initially introduced to Pearl Harbor’s history in the shore-side visitors center which includes a fantastic film about the attack. The center is filled with artifacts (many of which belonged to individual crew members) from inside the ship allowing visitors to see a more personal side of the carnage.
For many collectors of antiques and military artifacts (militaria), items from a veteran or pieces that are attributable to December 7, 1941 are highly sought after. Photo albums, medals or uniform items obtained from a veteran who was present on that day provide historians and militaria collectors with a tangible connection to this considerably pivotal moment in history. No doubt, there are dome concerns regarding the ethics and morals surrounding a private citizen possessing an unrelated veteran’s medals which is a topic of separate discussion (see: The Merits of Heart Collecting). Those visits to Pearl Harbor both as an inquisitive historian and as an active duty Navy veteran left this author inspired and on a perpetual quest to secure a Pearl Harbor-connected artifact for our collection.
The attack on Pearl Harbor along with several key military installations throughout the Island of Oahu would seem to provide an ample field of artifacts from which to source over the course of a decade.
With 100 ships present (and thousands of service men and women) around the harbor that day, it would seem to make sense that an artifact of note would surface in that time. Sadly, the timing never seemed to work and if it did, the bidding-competition was far to fierce and would drive cost (to acquire) the item out of the range of possibility as was the case for the pre-war USS Arizona enlisted man’s flat hat, including the ship-named Talley (see: A Piece of the Day of Infamy or Simply a Connection to an Historic Ship?).
One Saturday morning in early May, I awoke to find a private message from a colleague (a fellow Red Sox fan) who has an extensive and incredible baseball memorabilia collection. The tone of the message was an excited urgency from my friend who told me about a baseball jersey that, rather than pursue it himself, remarked that he thought of me immediately. It seemed that one of his local colleagues came across the jersey in the course of his business and texted his baseball-collector friend with the details and a few photos. What was relayed to me certainly held my interest and I wasted no time in responding.
Armed with a phone number, I reached out to the man with the jersey, who then mentioned that he obtained the the artifact along with a few Navy uniforms. The man was contracted by by the surviving family of a recently deceased elderly WWII Navy veteran to remove what remained of the decendent’s personal effects from his home. Over the course of carrying out his cleanup tasks, the man discovered the aforementioned jersey and service uniforms left behind to be disposed of (either through sale or other means). Understanding the historical nature of the pieces, he retained them and reached out to our mutual colleague. Our conversation was brief as the man described the items and mentioned that he would send the photos of the jersey and take (and send to me) additional pictures of the veteran’s dress uniforms when it was convenient to do so.
Even though the jersey was described to me, I was quite moved to see the photos of the heavy wool flannel with the lettering spelling out, “U S S P H O E N I X” arched across the chest. Internal questions as to the age of the jersey and the validity of the verbal story regarding the veteran’s connection to the ship swirled around in the sea of excitement surrounding the possibility that we were on the verge of acquiring artifacts from a veteran of the Pearl Harbor attack.
Over the next few weeks, conversation regarding the arrangements ensued as research was performed on the veteran to validate the information regarding the uniforms and jersey. Not only did we verify the details within the veteran’s obituary, but also the service details before making the final decision to acquire the group.
Due to mismatching schedules, it took some coordination to make the appropriate arrangements to bring the Phoenix jersey home (along with the veteran’s sets of dress blues and his flat hat (see: An Old Bluejacket Tradition Long Gone: Tar Hats to Flat Hats). After nearly a month since we initially spoke and a lot of nervousness during the shipping transit, the package arrived safely. The anticipation to open the package required restraint (to avoid damaging the contents with the knife) as the box was very securely sealed.
The very first garment withdrawn from the packaging was the road gray jersey that was somewhat dingy and clearly aged (and in need of cleaning). A thorough inspection and assessment of the baseball shirt showed that there were no personal markings, names or other inscriptions and that the overall condition was excellent (save for a lone moth-nip). All of the stitching seemed to be quite strong with no signs of separation or failing threads. Each of the athletic felt letters show no signs of decay or moth damage (they are commonly a target of insects). The condition of the lone numeral on the back matched the front lettering. The Wilson manufacturer’s tag matched the period of the veteran’s naval career showing that the jersey dates from as early as 1942.
As each successive garment was withdrawn from the package, it became apparent that there were more Navy dress uniforms in the box than was expected. Each jumper top bore the sailor’s rating badges and service stripe (“hash mark”) indicating that the veteran served for at least four years. A fourth uniform in the package differed from the first three. Instead of the fire controlman rating badge on the left sleeve, this one and the rating badge of a first-class electrician’s mate (EM1/c). The garment tag bore the same last name as the other three but with differing initials for the first and last name. A cursory research check showed that this uniform was issued to the veteran’s older brother who also served during WWII (though he enlisted nearly two-and-a-half years later).
Laying out the entire group, I considered all that this sailor, Fire Controlman Second Class Vincent Gunderson witnessed and experienced during his naval career. According to our research, Gunderson was born in Wisconsin in the year 1922. In July 1940, the 18-year-old Gunderson left his hometown of Janesville, Wisconsin (this small city, less than 23,000 residents in 1940, is the home of seven Medal of Honor recipients) and traveled 90 miles to the east to the Great Lakes Naval Training Station. Upon graduation from boot camp, Apprentice Seaman Gunderson reported on board the 2-year-old Brooklyn-Class light cruiser, USS Phoenix (CL-46) on October 5, 1940.
Though we were unsuccessful in locating artifacts or articles that would lend insight as to the ship’s baseball team roster configuration, we were able to find a few news stories about the squad. In the spring of 1941, the USS Phoenix nine embarked upon the season of play within the Oahu National League. On March 31, the ship’s “Phoo- Birds” team faced the Primos in a 10-inning 5-4 loss. A few days later, the Phoenix battery of Joe Simone and Hal Crider went up against the Richmond Ramblers, dropping the game, handing them a 3-1 loss. Simone pitched a two-hitter as offensive support came from six Phoenix hits (two each by Sandman and Carpenter’s Mate 3/c Bill Lindsey).
The USS Phoenix was a state-of-the-art light cruiser (“light” indicates that the main battery or principal gun bores were less than eight inches) assigned to the Pacific Fleet’s Cruiser Division Nine under the direction of Admiral H. Fairfax Leary. Of the division’s five cruisers, the USS Helena (CL-50), USS St. Louis (CL-49) and the flagship, USS Honolulu (CL-48) were at anchor in Pearl Harbor along with the Phoenix. USS Boise (CL-47) was off the Philippine Island of Cebu having completed convoy escorting duties.
“Phoenix saw planes proceeding to Ford Island at 0755. She got underway at 1010, temporarily returned to its moorage as ordered, but eventually joined other cruisers at sea. The ship fired eighty rounds of 5-inch between 0900 and 0915 on planes dive-bombing Ford Island and the battleships.” – “Pearl Harbor: Why, How, Fleet Salvage and Final Appraisal” by Vice Admiral Homer N. Wallin, USN (Retired)
On the morning of December 7, 1941, just before 0800, the lead Japanese aircraft of the first attacking wave appeared over Pearl Harbor, men working topside on the USS Phoenix spotted them. Laying at anchor a half-mile to the north of Battleship Row (just off the shoreline of Aiea’s McGrew Point), the men of the Phoenix had a front row seat to the carnage that was unleashed upon the Navy’s capital warships. With bomb and torpedo explosions amid enemy aircraft machine gun strafing, USS Phoenix’s commanding officer, Captain Herman E. Fischer, commenced with getting his ship underway in order to clear the harbor as well as prepare to repel an enemy landing. Ordered to return to moorage, Captain Fischer followed the order as the gunners battled the attacking aircraft.
Vince Gunderson recently promoted to fire controlman 3/c was most likely operating the directors for the guns in order to target the aircraft. Though he was trained during peacetime conditions, he was now learning his job in ways that he never previously imagined. From that day on, the Phoenix was continually operational and often at the tip of the spear.
During the battle of Surigao Strait, the closes that Phoenix came to any real danger was when two American torpedoes passed close astern (they were inadvertently launched by one of the sinking DESRON 24 destroyers. Later, while screening USS Nashville (CL-43), a kamikaze struck the Nashville while just missing the Phoenix. The Phoenix continued to skirt damage elsewhere. En route to Lingayen, Phoenix warded off multiple kamikaze attacks and was bracketed by four enemy torpedoes (two passing astern and two raced ahead of the bow). Her avoidance was becoming noteworthy as she again dodged shore-based artillery fire that straddled the ship near Corregidor and Balikpapan. Her reputation for evading enemy targeting was continually building among the fleet and back home. The moniker, “Lucky Phoenix” was becoming commonly used when discussing the ship’s exploits.
In every campaign, operation and battle, Gunderson was there manning the targeting directors for the ship’s guns, ensuring that every round fired would find its mark. When the ship came off the line for refit and resupply, at times the crew may have come ashore for recreation. Though we have yet to uncover any documentation regarding specifics for the men of the Phoenix, narratives from shipboard-serving players such as Seaman First Class Duke Snider and Chief Gunner’s Mate Bob Feller include periodic instances of R & R on American-held Pacific Islands where highly competitive baseball games were played (often with significant bets and bragging rights on the line). It is a safe assumption to consider that Gunderson saw game-action in similar fashion. Following the Phoenix’s support of the retaking of Bataan and Corregidor during the latter half of February 1945, Gunderson was detached from the ship (on March 24) to proceed to advanced fire control school in Washington D.C. for training. He made his way back to the states riding first the USS Boise and the carrier, USS Wasp (CV-18); the latter was returning for repairs following damage sustained in the Ryūkyūs campaign. Gunderson arrived at Puget Sound Navy Yard (Bremerton, Washington) on April 13, 1945 for further transport to the nation’s capital.
For Fire Controlman 2/c Gunderson, the war was effectively over in terms of combat operations. He completed his training and returned to the Phoenix (nearly six months later) on November 2. However, following Gunderson’s departure, the Phoenix continued operations in support of removing enemy strongholds in the Philippines for the next few months.
During break from action in early May, the Phoenix lay at anchor in Subic Bay affording the crew some much needed rest. While attending a baseball game on May 10, one Phoenix’s crew members, 24-year-old Radio Technician 2/c Aaron Abramson suffered a fatal head injury when he was struck by a baseball. On May 11, the crew mustered for funeral services to honor their fallen shipmate. RT2/c Abramson of Brooklyn, New York, left behind his wife of nearly four years, Shirley.
Phoenix continued supporting operations surrounding the Philippines until she was directed to the waters surrounding Indonesia and Borneo to support landing operations in June. By early July, Phoenix was back in Philippine waters. In need of overhaul the Phoenix was directed to proceed to San Pedro, California reaching home by late August (the atomic bombs were dropped during her transit). After a short visit in port, the ship was ordered to the Philadelphia Navy Yard (by way of the Panama Canal). Prior to transiting the canal, Phoenix anchored at Acapulco for a port visit during September 1-2. During her visit, Japanese officials signed the instrument of surrender in Tokyo Bay aboard the USS Missouri.
The war was over. Gunderson was still attending school as the Phoenix was on her way to the East Coast. Rather than undergoing an overhaul in Philadelphia, the ship received minimal upkeep. When Gunderson returned to the ship from school, he found the Phoenix transitioning to a modified decommissioned status as crew were being discharged and sent home. Gunderson remained aboard the ship until she was officially decommissioned on July 3, 1946. Two days later, on July 5, Fire Controlman Gunderson was discharged from the Navy.
After a long life, 97-year-old Pearl Harbor survivor Vincent Gunderson passed away on the 78th anniversary of the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor, Saturday, December 7, 2019.
Acquiring the Gunderson group provides us with the opportunity to share with our readers as well as our local in-person audiences who can see the artifacts during our public showings. With the addition of the Gunderson Navy uniforms, our militaria collection is wonderfully enhanced affording us the ability share a Pearl Harbor veteran’s story. As to our collection of service baseball uniforms, Gunderson’s USS Phoenix jersey is truly a centerpiece in telling the story of the intertwining histories of baseball and the armed forces.
Keeping a watchful eye out for military baseball items may seem like an easy task to an outsider, especially when it comes to searching for uniform elements such as jerseys, trousers or caps. To those of us who have continually running searches that employ a wide range of keywords, hoping to find that one elusive piece that may have been overlooked by less discerning collectors, the task is a challenge. I have written in a handful of previous articles of the difficulties in finding the crown of the baseball uniform; the baseball cap.
A few searches of online auctions at any given time could, on occasion, yield a vintage ball cap within the results. However, knowing what to look for makes all of the difference in confidently acquiring a piece (especially if it lacks provenance). Studying vintage ball caps, whether from the minor or major leagues or from semi-pros and amateur leagues that operated in the last century will carry the prospective collector far when attempting to identify and date the items.
There are a handful of resources that exist (at present) online. One of them, the Baseball Hall of Fame Museum in Cooperstown, New York shares photographs of examples of the artifacts housed in their facility. Perhaps the most invaluable online resource is MLBCollectors.com which provides incredibly detailed photography combined with dates and some descriptions for uniforms from every major league team which I use to evaluate designs, construction and manufacturer’s tags as known examples for comparison.
To further the comparative analysis, our extensive vintage photography archive provides numerous examples of caps (and uniforms) worn by military ball teams and acts as a catalog of what to be on the lookout for.
The most consistent design used across all branches during WWII was a six-panel crown made of dark (navy) blue wool with a leather sweatband. Whether plain or with an emblem attached to the front panels, these hats were common throughout the armed forces service teams. In addition to what was seen on the military diamonds, caps were worn by some personnel within the ranks of the various branches as part of their working uniforms. From the outside of the caps, they can appear to be identical to those worn by players on the field (in some instances, these hats could be distinguishable by the presence of a military stock or supply number inside of the sweatband). Wool caps were standard military supply system-stocked item for aeronautical materials Class-37 and was available for appropriation in three colors; red, green and blue (the blue color was so dark that it appeared, in many instances to be black).
In observing the many examples of service members’ caps, it has been noted that there are considerable variations that range from differing sweatband configurations, materials (and color variations) on the underside of the bill, manufacturers’ tags (ranging from military stock system, private purchase or none at all). However, from the topside perspective, the caps appear to be identical.
When a WWII-era navy blue wool ball cap became available, it was listed merely as a wool baseball cap that was part of a veteran’s estate. Discussion with the seller confirmed that the World War II veteran most-likely played baseball during his wartime service as there were Navy photo albums (not for sale) that held some images of the sailor in his baseball uniform (though I could only take his word). The cap showed some wear but was in overall good condition so there was no hesitation to bid on it.
- Navy ball caps: a brief history (Military Times)
Available Reproduction Ball Caps:
- History Preservation Associates – USN/USMC Blue Ball Cap
- WWII Navy/USMC Aviator’s Ball Cap (SM Wholesale)
What does one write about as a follow-up to an article (see: “Talk to me, Goose!” A 1950s-Vintage U.S.A.F. Uniform Touches Down) that essentially covered the details surrounding the acquisition of two mid-1950s United States Air Force baseball uniforms? I could bore readers to the point of yawn-induced tears rattling off the finer details surrounding the construction and design of the second of the pair of uniforms that were acquired together earlier this year. Perhaps a better route would be to discuss the (non-existent) finer points of not having a shred of detail surrounding the veteran to whom this group of baseball uniforms once belonged? One glance at the front of the uniform’s jersey (the focus of this article) is the most-telling aspect as to why this opening paragraph is a blatant example of the author reaching for something, ANYTHING to discuss for this article.
Richly-contrasting colors are part of what grabbed our interest and motivated us to acquire these uniforms (apart from their military use). As with the Goose AB’s red and cream two-toned jersey, this uniform set featured a two-color scheme that was not quite as elaborate. The jersey’s green shell is set apart with cream-colored raglan sleeves with a wide green banded collar that extends down to form the placket. The entirely blank front panel gives the uniform an otherwise bland appearance (in contrast to the Goose Air Base jersey). Across the back, however, is a different story.
Representative of what a typical industrial baseball league team would wear, this jersey’s lettering is formed into an arch shape with the remaining letters (that didn’t fit over the top) forming a line that closes the open bottom of the shape. In creamy white athletic felt lettering, “28 TH SUPPLY SQD” that, as far as can be determined, refers to the U.S. Air Force command that was represented by the team. Unfamiliarity with the USAF’s historical command structure poses a challenge with researching the unit in order to determine where the squadron was assigned in the mid-1950s. Left to make an educated guess as to the unit specifics, the 28th was either connected to the 28th Mission Support Group, 28th Military Airlift or the 28th Bombardment Group. Further research into the unit identity is forthcoming and ongoing.
Due to these both being stored within the same USAF-issued B4 garment bag that the seller (from whom these were obtained) purchased at an estate sale, it seems reasonable to assume that they originated from the same Air Force veteran. A thorough examination of both uniform sets yielded no names or personal identification stenciled markings. Inside the collar of the 28th Supply Squadron jersey is the only marking a white fabric strip with an ink-stamped, five-character alpha-numeric that is stapled directly above the manufacturer’s label. With all of the military baseball uniforms that we have seen over the past decade, this is the first with the “Power’s Athletic Wear” label.
Dating this uniform may seem to be a routine exercise of confirmation considering the verifiable age of the other uniform (that was grouped together in the Air Force garment bag), but it is a task that can further help in positively identifying the unit and possibly, the original owner associated with it. After a few moments of online searching the details of the uniform’s tag, we discovered the location of the manufacturer and found that the company was still in operation. We reached out to Powers seeking confirmation and requested further details surrounding the uniform’s age. It is possible that the 28th Supply Squadron sourced their teams’ uniforms directly from the manufacturer due to their home air base’s (Ellsworth Air Force Base, Rapid City, South Dakota) close proximity to the manufacturer or their distributor.
Adding two vintage U.S. Air Force uniforms to the stable in one fell swoop has filled in a gaping hole in the collection and addresses the (“what, no Air Force?”) questions that arise at public showings. As of publication, we are still researching to positively identify the command and hopefully, the ball-playing airman who wore these uniforms on the diamond.
Five Marines flannels (one uniform set and four additional jerseys) dominate the Chevrons and Diamonds uniform collection which, for a veteran of the U.S. Navy can be a point of contention. Taking further stock of the flannels, three U.S. Army, two U.S. Navy and now one U.S. Coast Guard baseball jerseys are also part of the collection.
Personalizing or associating the pieces with my family’s legacy of service shows an imbalance or disparity of representation. Looking at the service history of my family, my father is an Army combat veteran (Vietnam); maternal grandfather was a WWII Navy combat veteran; three uncles who served in the Navy (WWI, WWII), another uncle (WWI, WWII, Korean War) in the Army and not a single, solitary veteran of the U.S.M.C. or the Coast Guard. I also have a relative who served in the U.S. Army Air Corps/U.S. Army Air Forces and was a guest of the Empire of Japan (for the entire duration of WWII – a Corregidor Defender) and, to represent him, there is an early 1940s jersey in my collection (Bolling Field). As to those post- September 18, 1947 (the date that the U.S. Air Force was established as its own branch of the U.S. Armed Forces) jerseys? Zilch. Having USAF veterans in my family including my son and my father-in-law (who, having played collegiate baseball for the University of Oregon and Portland State College as a southpaw pitcher, donned flannels for the USAF and chucked against a few Bay Area Pacific Coast League teams in the late 1950s), the absence of this branch’s baseball threads from my museum truly stood out.
The stark red script athletic felt lettering, “Goose AB” stood out against the creamy white material like a vintage neon sign against a pitch-black sky. It took just a second to register. With one other item in the Chevrons and Diamonds collection originating from the Goose Bay Air Base (see: Competition Awards: Buckling Up Metal Baseball Treasure), I realized quickly that the red and white baseball uniform was used at the U.S. Air Force base in Labrador, Canada. Established in 1941 as part of the Lend Lease agreement between the United States and Great Britain, the airfield was constructed and readied for use a base of operations for ferrying aircraft to England and to provide long-range air cover for convoys between the U.S. and the British Isles. While the baseball championship medal (referenced in the story linked above) in this collection was awarded during WWII (in 1944, specifically), it was immediately clear that the Goose AB baseball uniform was from a later time-period.
Without any hesitation, a deal was struck with the seller and in just a few short days, the package arrived. Aside from being considerably wrinkled, the condition of the garments was fantastic yet it is readily apparent that the uniform saw action on the diamond. In hopes of discovering identifying marks left by the Air Force veteran who owned it, the only means of determining the age was with the MacGregor-brand manufacturer’s tag. Using the Chevrons and Diamonds tag-history as a reference, it was easy to determine that the jersey was made between 1955 and ‘56. During these years, Goose Air Base was part of Strategic Air Command and Northeast Air Command becoming the site of the first nuclear weapons within Canada’s borders.
Apart from determining the age of the uniform, there were no marks that would indicate who the veteran was that originally owned it. My last attempt to identify the airman sent me directly to the seller with my inquiry. The response deflated all hope as the seller stated, “I found these tucked in an B4 garment bag which I picked up an estate sale.” The message continued, “There was also an Air Force handbook dated 1951 and several field caps,” and yet no markings or stenciled names were present. This airman, at least for the present time, will remain unknown.
The Goose AB uniform itself is constructed from lightweight cotton. The base shell is cream-white with red raglan sleeves and a broad red placket and collar. There are five white, two-hole buttons down the placket face. The color-matched red athletic felt lettering on the front and numeral on the back are affixed with a machine-serge-stitch surrounding each character. Aside from the heavy wrinkling of the fabric, the overall condition of this uniform is excellent.
Sharing this uniform with my father-in-law would have been special, especially since it dates from close to the same era during which he served. His passion for the game never ceased until his passing several years ago.
As this uniform was part of a grouping that contained two separate USAF baseball uniforms, the second one will be part of an upcoming article.
I have ridden long bicycle rides that drain every ounce of energy from my body – riding 100 miles while climbing a combined 8,000 feet of elevation saps me of every measure of strength. If I was a few decades younger, I probably would bounce back within a few hours but at my present age, the recovery take a bit longer. In the sphere of writing, a marathon of research, documentation and story-forming has a similar effect on my mind. As with a lengthy ride, the enjoyment that I experience over the course of the event keeps me going but once the final punctuation mark is placed and the piece is published, I am intellectually exhausted.
The two-part feature (Part I and Part II) that focused on Sam Chapman that published nearly two weeks ago left me somewhat vacant of the motivation to pick up the keyboard and begin working on one of the many story ideas that are in my mental queue. In fact, my mind is somewhat scattered as to which direction to take as the baseball militaria pieces have been arriving with an unprecedented frequency and rapidity leaving me considerably overwhelmed and awestruck. In addition to the influx of artifacts, our recent public-display event was nothing short of an incredible experience.
The artifact that truly catapulted this endeavor a decade ago was the Inquisition of a 1943-vintage Marine Corps baseball uniform. The gray wool flannel, accented with red wool athletic felt lettering and the red rayon soutache stirred me to research and to investigate what else may be available. Throughout the past ten years, I have documented every uniform that I have seen (some of that effort has resulted in articles and additions to the online uniform archive) regardless of my success or failure in adding them to our museum. This documentation assists me in properly dating pieces as well as providing a means with which to gauge market availability.
During a public display event in 2018, one of the constant questions asked by viewers of the Chevrons and Diamonds mobile museum of baseball militaria artifacts was, “why isn’t the Coast Guard represented” or, “what, no Coast Guard?” among the vintage jerseys and uniforms depicting the Army, Navy, Marines and Army Air Forces. My constant refrain to those inquiries was that in the many years spent researching and acquiring artifacts, I hadn’t seen a single baseball uniform item from the Coast Guard. The absence of one of these uniforms from the market continued well in to 2019 when, not just one, but two vintage Coast Guard baseball pieces came to market on the same day in early June.
The U.S. Coast Guard baseball militaria listings depicted two vastly different uniforms. The first one that drew my interest was one that appeared to be a home (white) wool flannel uniform set (jersey and trousers) that was considerably discolored from both use and aging. Both pieces were trimmed in what appears (from the auction’s accompanying photos) to be a Kelly green thin line of soutache. The jersey is adorned with athletic felt lettering and numerals in the same color which. One might question the colors due to the USCG’s traditional blue and white scheme but it isn’t unusual, especially during WWII when textiles were in high demand for the war-effort. The second listing had a more conventionally-styled uniform set. The lightweight white cotton jersey was trimmed with a thin line of navy blue soutache with color-matched small, athletic felt block lettering spelling out C O A S T G U A R D across the chest. On the back of the jersey is a single, large color-matched numeral. The trousers were a bit of a departure – while the material appeared to be the same as that of the jersey (save for the color – blue versus white), they lacked the continuation of the souatche theme (which, should have been at thin line of white on the trousers’ outer seam). The thick band of white was an inconsistency for the trousers as was a lack of any manufacturer’s labels.
This tale of two jerseys is one of extremes within the realm of realistic valuation and pricing on the parts of the sellers. The white and blue cotton uniform was on the low side of the normal price range (less than $100) while the white and green set was priced at $50 south of $1,000. Both uniforms possessed nothing in terms of provenance and only the white and blue set could be positively dated due to the presence of a manufacturer’s tag in the collar area. Sewn into the inside of the collar was the familiar GoldSmith Preferred Products tag that dates it between 1940 and 1945 (in 1946, the company began to transition toward the MacGregor brand, the name obtained from the prestigious sporting goods company, Crawford McGregor & Canby Co. which Goldsmith acquired in 1936). The other set bore no tags, leaving the approximate age to be determined by the design and cut of the uniform.
What is the difference between the terms “scarce” and “rare” when they are applied to vintage artifacts or collectibles? While many might consider the two terms to be subjective or even synonymous, they do bear different meanings. The seller of the white and green uniform added the adjective to “rare” in order to provide justification for the highly unrealistic auction listing price “Extremely rare, especially in its amazing condition, USCG baseball uniform.” The term, “rare” was used but not in the manner that was desired. The jersey is truly infrequently-occurring and uncommon in the marketplace. What the seller meant to say was that it was scarce and in exceedingly high demand.
scarce: Hard to find; absent or rare. (Websters: “deficient in quantity or number compared with the demand : not plentiful or abundant”)
rare: Infrequently occurring; uncommon, (Websters: “marked by unusual quality, merit, or appeal”)
However, the initial $950.00 asking price along with the current and greatly-reduced and still tremendously over-priced figure ($550.00) over a month later coupled with the caveat, “This is the last price reduction. If it doesn’t sell for $550, I will try a different venue” has yet to generate the interest that would validate the “Extremely” qualifier. While the uniform is decidedly rare, lacking provenance from a known ballplayer, it is merely vintage clothing and worth less than $100 on the market.
I turned my attention entirely towards the white and blue uniform set as it was solidly a wartime item. I set my snipe amount and waited for the the auction to close. The lone bidding competition was showing the minimum bid amount but I had to set my snipe for the amount that I was willing to pay and hope that the competition had a lower bid. Inside of the last 10 seconds of the auction, my bid was automatically placed which secured the win. The only question that I had at that point was whether or not the jersey could transit from one coast to the other in time to add it to the mobile museum display that coming weekend. I reached out to the seller (after completing the swift payment in hopes that it would be sent as soon as possible) regarding the upcoming showing and without any hesitation, shipped the uniform with priority.
This year’s display had it all – uniforms represented from each branch and yet we still encountered a veteran who didn’t see their branch represented until we were able to direct their attention to the two naval aviation branch jerseys prominently displayed. Along with the other baseball militaria artifacts, the Coast Guard jersey was prominently displayed and several USCG veterans were amazed that such a vintage flannel existed. Most viewers of the exhibit had no idea that baseball was played by service members during the war or that professionals joined the ranks, leaving their careers either on hold or ended, completely when they joined.
After nearly 1,500 words, I can see that I have returned to ride yet again. My writer’s exhaustion is now clearly behind me and I am on my way, once again.