I love uniforms, but with a couple of hard limits: Nazis and Confederates. The stiffest dick can't override the knowledge of the purpose those uniforms served. I don't find a lot of elderly heartthrobs from the Western campaigns, so I've had the luxury of not deciding whether to add them to my exclusions list. On the other hand, I have read Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee (years ago; don't ask me to quote it) and it was tough stuff. So I leave it up to you.
I'd have to imagine Miles as a father to his men. He'd be the type who'd threaten to spread me out on a wagon wheel for some strong Western discipline. Only as we all know, men of action don't make threats, just promises. It'd be very John Wayne of him. Ugh, speaking of ambivalence...
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