I’d still be in first grade if today’s teachers had caught us playing “army” as kids. And the Mattel ‘tommy gun’ would have had them apoplectic (not to mention the toy (cap firing) grenades.
My cohort from the early fifties would be getting out of jail about now if today's rules applied then.
Cap pistols, smashing whole rolls of caps with a rock, setting off incendiary bombs made of alum foil wrapped strike anywhere matches and a rock, fireworks of all kinds, would have had Homeland Security ship us to Gitmo. One of the most prized toy guns was a Daisy pop-gun, your basic BB rifle without the BB capabilty. Stick the muzzle in the turf and shoot the sod plug at your friends butt. Satisfying dirt cloud, clear evidence of a hit and the yelp. Good stuff.
But at the heart of all these games was that we were "playing men" regardless of the scenario, army, cowboys, knights, Bengal Lancers, or cops and robbers were all the first steps in acknowledging our inherent masculinity, our DNA destiny.