One can see some subtle borrowings from such war classics as Apocalypse Now and Platoon, but nothing so blatant as to be construed as copying those films' styles.
The obvious reference point is 1979's Apocalypse Now, which shares The Thin Red Line's distended narrative style as well as Malick's penchant for lustrous images emerging from an ink-black cinema screen.
For another like it you have to go all the way back to Coppola's Apocalypse Now (1979) or even Malick's last movie Days of Heaven (1978).
Unlike Francis Ford Coppola's Apocalypse Now , which screamed out against the horrors of war by depicting its participants as maniacs and its situations as surreally haunting, The Thin Red Line evokes equal (if not greater) horror by operating in such irregular, fitful rhythms, by juxtaposing the brutal with the banal, and by depriving both soldier and viewer of any sturdy foundation against which to measure their experience.
About as blatantly antiwar as they come, this film has much more in common with the disillusionment-filled "Platoon" (Oliver Stone) and "Apocalypse Now" (Francis Ford Coppola) than Steven Spielberg's equally disturbing, but strongly patriotic "Saving Private Ryan."
Where "Apocalypse Now" and "Platoon" were both one man's viewpoint on the Vietnam war and "Saving Private Ryan" was the story of a handful of men searching for one, "The Thin Red Line" is a film of every man and his quest to keep the people around him alive.