1.Navigating by the Stars Without Maps or Compasses
Long before GPS satellites hovered overhead, soldiers had to rely on something far more ancient and constant: the night sky. Celestial navigation—once a core survival skill taught to military personnel—served as an indispensable method for orienting oneself in the absence of modern tools. This technique, dating back to ancient mariners and desert travelers, was adapted for military use in situations where compasses were unreliable or maps unavailable, such as deep-jungle reconnaissance or behind-enemy-lines operations during World War II and the Cold War.
At the heart of this skill was the ability to read the stars like a map. In the Northern Hemisphere, Polaris—the North Star—acted as a celestial anchor. Because it remains nearly fixed above the North Pole, it provided a reliable reference point for true north. Southern Hemisphere soldiers, in contrast, relied on the Southern Cross constellation, using its orientation to estimate their direction. But identifying stars was only part of the equation. Soldiers were also trained to estimate angles using outstretched hands or makeshift tools, and to track the movement of celestial bodies across the sky to determine both latitude and time.
The sextant, though more commonly associated with naval navigation, was occasionally used by elite units trained in advanced fieldcraft. More often, however, soldiers relied on mental charts, muscle memory, and relentless practice. According to U.S. Army Field Manual FM 3-21.75, celestial orientation was especially emphasized in environments where electronic interference or equipment loss was likely—think arctic expeditions, remote desert patrols, or evasion scenarios after aircraft crashes.
Why go to such lengths in the age of satellites? Simple: you can’t jam the stars. Celestial navigation remains immune to electronic disruption, making it a quietly powerful fallback when GPS is compromised. Even today, some branches of the military continue to train select personnel in this ancient art—not out of nostalgia, but because in the chaos of war, knowing where you are might just mean the difference between survival and oblivion.
2.Killing and Cooking Snakes for Emergency Food
When it comes to military survival training, few skills are as primal—or as unsettling—as learning to kill and cook snakes. And yet, this practice remains a cornerstone of field survival programs in armed forces around the world. Why? Because when you’re stranded in the jungle, desert, or deep forest with no rations and no clear rescue timeline, protein is survival. And snakes, despite their bad reputation, are often the most readily available source.
The U.S. military has long emphasized this skill in its SERE (Survival, Evasion, Resistance, and Escape) training, particularly for pilots and special operations forces. In joint training exercises on Guam, American service members have teamed up with the Japan Air Self Defense Force and the Royal Australian Air Force to learn how to safely identify, kill, and prepare snakes as food. The process involves using improvised tools—sticks, stones, or even knives—to pin and decapitate the snake, followed by careful skinning, gutting, and roasting over an open flame. Decapitation is especially critical, as venom can remain active in a severed head for hours.
Nutritionally, snake meat is surprisingly efficient: about 20 grams of protein per 100 grams, making it a dense source of energy in high-stress environments. But not all snakes are created equal—soldiers are trained to identify venomous versus non-venomous species, a distinction that can mean the difference between nourishment and a fatal bite. This isn’t just a Western phenomenon either. Elite units in India and Southeast Asia also include snake-handling and cooking in their commando training, recognizing that local ecology dictates local survival tactics.
As strange as it may sound to civilians, this gritty skill reflects a core military truth: adaptability is everything. When supply lines vanish and nature becomes the only pantry, knowing how to turn a predator into a meal can be the difference between life and death.
3.Using Animal Intestines as Water Storage
When standard-issue canteens weren’t an option, soldiers had to get creative—and sometimes, that meant turning to the gut. Literally. One of the more unusual but historically effective survival skills involved using animal intestines as improvised water storage. This technique wasn’t just some fringe practice confined to one culture or time period; it has deep roots stretching across civilizations. Indigenous groups like the Plains Indians routinely used the bladder of the American bison to carry water, taking advantage of its natural elasticity and leak-resistant properties.
In military survival training, particularly in older field manuals, soldiers were taught to carefully extract intestines—usually from larger game like deer or goats—then flush and scrape them clean. Once turned inside out and sealed at one end with cordage, the intestine formed a surprisingly watertight tube. The trick was in the preparation: thorough cleaning was mandatory to avoid contamination, and if time allowed, drying and curing extended the container’s life. While not exactly appetizing, it worked in a pinch.
Roman legionaries, too, repurposed animal intestines—not just for water, but for items like early condoms and surgical tubing, showing how versatile this biological material truly was. Though modern materials have rendered the practice obsolete, the ingenuity behind it remains a testament to the kind of resourcefulness that survival often demands.
4.Communicating with Hand Signals and Mirror Flashes
In a world before encrypted radios and satellite uplinks, soldiers had to get creative—especially when silence was a matter of survival. Among the most curious skills drilled into troops during the 20th century was the art of silent signaling, using nothing more than a clenched fist or a bit of reflected sunlight. These weren’t just field improvisations; they were codified, rehearsed, and, in some cases, life-saving.
Military hand signals became standard practice during World War II, when stealth operations required troops to move and coordinate without uttering a word. A raised fist meant “freeze.” A sweeping arm signaled “advance.” And if a soldier made a circular motion above the head? That meant “rally here.” These gestures weren’t just military jargon—they were survival shorthand, especially vital during ambushes or covert reconnaissance missions where a single whisper could give away an entire squad’s position. Today, versions of these signals are still taught in basic training and even used by hunters and first responders who operate in noise-sensitive environments.
But when distance made hand signals impractical, mirror flashes stepped in. Known formally as “heliographic signaling,” this technique dates back to the 19th century but saw renewed importance in 20th-century military survival training. Soldiers learned to angle small glass or plastic mirrors—usually with an aiming hole—to bounce sunlight in controlled bursts across valleys or open terrain. These flashes could relay simple commands, location coordinates, or Morse code messages like SOS, often stretching visibility up to 10 miles on a clear day. Crucially, mirror signaling remained viable when radios were down or silence was imperative. Rescuers have credited mirror flashes for saving downed pilots and lost patrols in jungles, deserts, and mountainous terrain alike.
Even today, NATO survival manuals recommend carrying a signal mirror as part of standard emergency kits. Why? Because when batteries die and networks fail, a well-aimed beam of sunlight might still be your loudest cry for help.
5.Camouflaging with Mud, Leaves, and Animal Waste
When most people think of military camouflage, they picture high-tech uniforms with pixelated patterns or stealth aircraft designed to vanish from radar. But long before synthetic fabrics and infrared-deflecting paints, soldiers relied on far more primal tools—mud, leaves, and, yes, even animal waste—to disappear into their surroundings. Camouflaging with natural materials wasn’t just a quirky field trick; it was a critical survival skill, especially for infantrymen operating behind enemy lines or in hostile terrain.
Mud served as the soldier’s first line of concealment. By coating exposed skin and fabric, it dulled reflective surfaces and helped match the earth tones of the battlefield. Thicker applications were used in jungles or forests, while lighter smears sufficed in deserts and dry scrublands, as noted in modern survival manuals and corroborated by historical military training guides like the U.S. Army’s FM 3-21.75 source. Leaves and branches took camouflage a step further. Soldiers fashioned makeshift ghillie suits by tucking local foliage into their uniforms, a technique formalized during World War I by specialized camouflage units in both the French and British armies.
Then there’s the most unorthodox method: animal waste. While off-putting, it had its tactical logic. Dried dung not only added color and texture to break up human outlines but could also mask human scent from enemy patrol dogs or trackers. In some jungle warfare scenarios, it was even used to disguise equipment caches, blending them into the forest floor.
These improvisational methods weren’t just about aesthetics—they were about survival. Blending in meant the difference between ambush and escape, between detection and invisibility. And while modern militaries now deploy advanced camouflage textiles, the underlying principle remains the same: adapt to the environment, or risk becoming a target.
6.Building Rafts Out of Uniforms and Backpacks
Improvising a raft from clothing and gear might sound like something out of a survival reality show—but for soldiers, it was once a real and practiced skill. In situations where bridges were blown, boats unavailable, or rivers needed crossing under fire, troops were trained to turn their own equipment into makeshift flotation devices. This wasn’t just about ingenuity—it was about survival, mobility, and mission continuity.
The method was surprisingly systematic. Soldiers would remove their uniforms—shirts, trousers, jackets—and tightly knot the openings. When inflated, these sealed garments trapped air, effectively becoming buoyant pods. Backpacks, especially those with internal frames or waterproof lining, were similarly sealed and used as flotation aids or even as the raft’s core structure. In some cases, troops would lash together branches or rifles to form a frame, then wrap it with waterproof ponchos or canvas to create a more stable platform. According to military field manuals like the U.S. Army’s FM 3-21.75, adaptability was key: the idea was to use whatever materials were on hand to cross rivers during combat or retreat, even under hostile conditions.
These impromptu watercraft weren’t built for elegance—or distance. But they could mean the difference between life and death in enemy territory. More than a quirky footnote, this skill exemplifies the military ethos of resourcefulness, turning uniforms into lifelines in the most literal sense.
7.Starting Fires with Gunpowder and Flint in Wet Conditions
In the days before waterproof matches and butane lighters, soldiers had to be both inventive and fearless when it came to staying warm or cooking a meal in the field—especially in wet weather. One of the more peculiar, yet historically validated, survival skills taught to troops involved igniting fires using flint and gunpowder. While it sounds like something out of a pirate novel, this method was once a staple in military fieldcraft, particularly during 18th and 19th-century campaigns when weather, terrain, and enemy proximity made conventional fire-starting nearly impossible.
Soldiers trained in this technique learned to extract a pinch of gunpowder from their ammunition cartridges—an operation requiring steady hands and a good deal of nerve. The gunpowder was then piled onto a dry surface, often protected by a makeshift windbreak fashioned from rocks or gear. Using a piece of flint struck against steel, sparks would ignite the powder in a flash, producing a flame hot and fast enough to light even damp tinder. According to military field manuals, this method could be a literal lifesaver, particularly in humid jungles or rain-soaked forests where traditional kindling was useless.
What made this technique especially valuable was its reliability. Flint, unlike matches, doesn’t degrade in wet conditions, and gunpowder—though temperamental—can still ignite if kept dry in cartridge paper or tins. U.S. military survival training well into the 20th century included variations of this method, underscoring the importance of repurposing available resources when standard tools failed. In essence, this wasn’t just about fire—it was about adaptability, ingenuity, and the soldier’s ability to turn a weapon of war into a tool for survival.
