My Dad's Field Chow Experiences

[SentientTootsieRoll]

Hi all,

My dad wrote me an email and asked me to share his experiences with rations when he was in the Army. I hope you all enjoy reading it as much as I did:

"I enlisted in the fall of 1984 as an Army Infantryman. While in the Delayed Entry Program we were taken to an Army Reserve Center and given some initial orientation. Lunch was an MCI. This was the only time I was issued one. I don’t recall the menu.

During training we most always had MRE’s for lunch after the first week or so. We had turns to have Kitchen Police (KP) detail and instead of training, you spent the day peeling potatoes, washing dishes, cleaning the floor, washing tables, polishing napkin containers and more. The not so best part was wearing the white paper hats. My Company was in Harmony Church at Fort Benning and we had World War II barracks at the time. The Dining Facility (DFAC) was located at the end of our row of Platoon Barracks. We had to run everywhere when not marching including after a meal. We had a few contractor cooks and few Army cooks. The Army cooks enjoyed insulting us and making us do the labor because the Drill Sergeants weren’t around and we didn’t know any better than to take it. The Mess Sergeant was jealous of the Drill Sergeants and made our lives especially difficult. He made me and another trainee exchange our sweat soaked paper hats for new ones, print DRO (Dining Room Officer) in black marker on the sides and stand at parade rest while the other recruits ate at meal time. He wanted us to clean up any messes, polish the napkin holders and fill the shakers as soon as the need arose. We mostly stood there feeling silly and enjoying the break in labor.

At that time our Drill Sergeants wouldn’t permit anyone taking their time to eat, talking or looking around. You were to get your meal, (soft drinks and desserts were not allowed even though they were available) sit and eat as quick as you can and exit. The last men to enter sometimes ate their food standing at the door to the exit so they wouldn’t be late for training. To this day I have a hard time having a leisurely meal. Later when I became a Drill Sergeant this was strictly forbidden treatment and would get us in trouble. I was “pushing troops” in the 90’s at Fort Jackson. The recruits I trained sure enjoyed their meals a good deal more than we did. As a Drill Sergeant I would be the last to enter and eat. Our technique was to scarf down the chow then announce to the troops that we were the last in, were finished and they should finish up. At that time they had a concoction called Victory Juice. It was an Army made beverage something like homemade, experimental gatorade except much worse. I think it was equal to a glass of Kool-Aide with a bag of salt and a light sprinkle of sugar. It was awful but we were to encourage the troops to drink it in the hot, humid summer. I didn’t drink it but figured it would make a great disciplinary tool at home if my own children were to act up. I never had the heart to mix some up and punish my kids with Victory Juice. They were never THAT bad.

While on bivouac we usually had hot meals served in mermites for breakfast and dinner. Lunch was an MRE handed out during breakfast. This was pretty standard practice until the T Rations came along in the 90s. Anyway, the order of chow in the services paragraph of an operation order was usually ACA. This meant hot A’s for breakfast, MRE for lunch and hot A’s again for dinner. A is obviously hot, fresh prepared food from the field kitchen or dining facility and C was combat ration. This is one reason I think MCI’s were confused with actual C rations for so long. I believe class B rations were sack lunches usually given out before we got on a chartered bus going to a training site or some other detail. The brown paper sack lunches were almost always a dry bologna or cheese sandwich, apple, boiled egg, packaged cookies and juice or milk box. A few packets of mustard, mayonnaise and a napkin were included. Many grunts didn’t eat theirs until they were pretty famished for some reason.

The early MRE’s didn’t come with a heater, a limited amount of menus and smaller quantities. My first duty station was Korea [2nd Infantry Division] and the menu’s got tired pretty fast. In the winter time our rations would freeze solid. I would put the main menu under my arm pit or inside my shirt to thaw it somewhat. That never worked. You had to eat it like a popcicle which wasn’t so bad while you were on the move for long distances. It gave you something to do that took your mind off the pain in your feet and back from the ruck sack.

The first thing we did with MRE’s was “field strip” them. That is, we opened them, removed the cardboard boxes, traded or tossed the items we didn’t like, took the coffee and chewing gum out of the accessory packet and the rest went into the trash. with all of our equipment and gear there was very little room for rations. Most grunts would nibble on something to address hunger and sitting to enjoy a full MRE wasn’t conducive to our lifestyle most of the time. Some men wouldn’t eat them at all, preferring to go hungry. I couldn’t do it because I was always hungry and was mostly raised by a depression era veteran Grandmother who never let anything waste.

I carried a propane Coleman stove and two canteen cups. One cup was for mixing hot chocolate, coffee, ramen noodles or mocha. The other cup was for personal hygiene. I’d heat the water up, wash my face, armpits and shave. It was glorious especially if I could change into a clean T-shirt. I never got those two cups mixed up and two (1) quart canteens never lasted very long.

Since we were Mechanized Infantry I had a bit of room to spare for a case of Ramen Noodles. Before a field exercise I’d go into our little “Ville” and purchase a case for about $8. Even as a Private it was affordable and a pleasant change from our limited menu rotation.

The South Korean Soldiers (ROK’s) had their own version of the MRE printed in their language. The wrappers were scattered all over the country side. The reason was kids. We would tie a trash bag on the end of our tracked vehicle and toss our exhausted MRE’s inside. I tried to tie up the bag and take it with us at first but these little kids would show up out of nowhere and watch us. We’d toss them stuff like candy and they were delighted. Then they would make their move and run off with our trash and dump it out and examine the trash for unused MREs. There was nothing we could do. After while I was assigned as a Jeep Driver for our Platoon Leader. Whenever we stopped on a trip I’d have to patrol around the Jeep or the kids would take stuff out and run away. They were always laughing because it was a game to them. I liked the kids and laughed too but was afraid they would get away with my ruck sack or a case of my MREs. You had to keep looking around because they tried to get behind you to steal things right off of you.

I asked for and received a transfer to West Germany [1st Infantry Division] after completing my time on the Korean DMZ. Our DFAC in Germany was awful. The cooks were pretty surly. They would put chili powder on everything including the green jello. 30 minutes after meals we’d get stomach cramps from the bad chow. We started going to the 299th Support Battalion’s DFAC. Also there were females there and they liked grunts. It got so bad that our Battalion DFAC was losing funds due to the poor head count. Our Battalion Command Sergeant Major started posting a Sergeant at the 299th DFAC with the mission of trying to identify fellow Infantrymen and redirect them to our own DFAC. This might sound difficult but we were easy to spot with short hair, sun bleached uniforms, lean frames and we avoided eye contact with the Sergeant. The support troops had a very soft appearance and super clean, new uniforms that gave them away. The plan might have worked except the Sergeants were sympathetic to our plight and would only send a grunt back if they couldn’t be trusted not to tell on them or were packing a bit more fat than a good Infantry Soldier should.

Late one night the Military Police (MP) were patrolling and caught our Battalion cooks burglarizing their own DFAC with steaks and other choice chow loaded up in the trunk of their cars. Tempers flared, things were said, arrests followed and then there was a shake up. Shortly after that our DFAC was properly run again and we saved ourselves a walk over to the 299th. Most of the time- because there were female Soldiers there. Since then I’ve decided that MP’s are good for guarding the DFAC so they can’t be all bad.

Around this time they started putting tobasco sauce in the MRE’s and made the main course larger. Life was getting better for the grunt. We used to carry a full sized bottle of tabasco sauce in our ruck. I’d put it on my crackers for flavor when they stopped putting salt on them. I hated the frankfurters. Most Army chow is helped with a little bit of ketchup. I’d drown my potatoes at the DFAC and that menu had dehydrated ketchup. There wasn’t enough ketchup to make those evil prongs of death palatable. They even resisted the tabasco sauce so I suspect they were procured from the Soviet Union as part of an insidious plot to break our will.

Heating meals was still a task. Since we were also Mechanized and might be lucky enough to have a working vehicle heater you might be able to heat your main course. Sometimes in the winter small crowds of grunts would patiently wait outside the Armored Personnel Carriers (APC) with working heaters to wait for their stuff to be warmed up. Since we were in West Germany the soldier sitting closest to the heater was known as the “Oven Meister”. If you were the Oven Meister nothing could move you from that spot. If you did move then it was taken in a second and you were cold again for the duration.

There were times I was hungry that I wouldn’t eat because the chore of pulling out my ration and eating it cold was unbearable. Menu fatigue and a sour stomach were also factors. The “John Wayne” bars were getting more and more rare too. These were very popular with Infantrymen and were great trading material. Almost worth as much as cigarettes. The wrapper said it was made by something with Wayne in the title. These were also in the MCI except they were round.

I wasn’t a habitual smoker but I did start smoking to deal with stress in the field. I’d been promoted to Corporal and was in a Staff Sergeant position. I’d get stressed out over things and would step into the trees for a hidden smoke break. Nobody knew I was smoking a little and I was somewhat ashamed. A pack of Marlboro lights cost about 75 cents at the PX. Some nonsmokers would buy a carton of cigarettes and use the packs for trading material in the field. Smokers usually thought going cold turkey in the field would be a good way to quit. This strategy never worked and they would pay the nonsmoker GI silly amounts of cash for a pack of cigarettes. The story about getting an old ration of MCIs with the stale cigarettes in them was still going around at that time. It was a lie of course back then so I am surprised the tale is still shared. People who try to pass that story as their own nowadays should be beaten with a cinder block.

Immediately after Desert Storm they changed up the MRE menus and added the heaters. I theorized the support troops that were deployed threw such a tantrum about the MREs we’d been getting by with for so long that the Department of Defense suddenly became interested. Chicken and Rice popsicles became a thing of the past. The brass could care less about a man carrying a 60 pound rucksack, water, ammo, weapons, body armor and gear for miles into combat with an MRE popsicle in one hand and a grenade in the other. However, if a cute female soldier doesn’t want to eat her cold MRE for lunch in the air conditioned DFAC miles from the front lines well, then they move mountains of money to heat up that MRE for her. I doubt she ate it even then. Even so I’m glad they came out with those except for one night in particular.

Shortly after the first flameless ration heater (FRH) first came out I was freezing in the field (again). I had an idea and activated two heaters and placed them in the cargo pockets of my BDUs (Battle Dress Uniform). At first, everything was going well except the smell. Then the heaters kicked in and became too hot. I nearly burnt my outer thighs and hands getting them back out. I don’t know how the Machine Gunner on guard didn’t see me that night as I was hopping around and grunting in the dark with growing desperation as the heaters became hotter and hotter. Not once but twice. He never mentioned it but he had to be calmly and quietly watching me and wondering what in the hell I was up to. Anyhow it was back to suffering my watch with cold dignity shortly after.

We used the FRH to simulate explosives during the Clinton years. The President had massively slashed our budget and we had nothing in the way of blanks and training charges to train with. By this time I was in the 101st Airborne (Air Assault) Division. On an exercise a young Corporal moved up to place a notional charge on a road block. The notional charge was a two liter plastic pop bottle with a FRH and some water inside and the top screwed on. After a short amount of time the device would explode. This was our signal to assault through the obstacle with the charge placed on it. At the right time he ran up to the obstacle and placed the “charge” which immediately exploded. The bottle cap hit him square in the balls and he went down like a sack of potatoes grabbing himself in pain. The entire battlefield erupted in laughter and we had a pause to debate if he would have children one day. After that the Company Commander decided we wouldn’t use those anymore. From then until the next President we had so yell “Bang, Bang” and “Boom” while training with our empty weapons. It was humiliating.

I’d started carrying a few spare MRE components in my rucksack. One too many time the field chow would be late and it was insurance. When I was promoted to Sergeant it was my job to make sure my troops were fed. Sergeants ate only after their troops because if the food ran out then at least your men got to eat. I’d grab a cup of coffee and stand at the mermites and wait for all my men to eat before getting chow. Grunts usually made every field meal a sandwich. Two slices of bread and then you could do wonders. Cold cereal never appealed to me except in the field. Something about it was a morale booster even if it was not very satisfying. Always coffee, hot and black. I still drink a morning cup of coffee on the weekends and think of cold mornings, camouflage painted face, web gear, soaking wet boots, muddy uniform, M16, lack of sleep and a misty forest or a cold desert. I’d watch my men get their chow and I couldn’t help feel like a big brother watching over his younger brothers. They were all types of men and I cared for them even though they often made me want to choke the hell out of them. Properly led they would always do what was needed no matter the amount of misery. We were grunts and we were all equals in that misery in spite of rank. Cold, wet, miserable we’d make do.

Some young Privates with families would save their MRE’s and take them home to their families. Many tried to hide it because they were ashamed but we all pretty much knew. A few times I’d offer what I had left over to these young men before we returned from the field. I’d time it so they could save face.

Want to know what it’s like? Imagine fighting with your wife, girlfriend or both because they hate your Infantryman life because you’re always gone. They don’t understand why you do it. Then with that not being resolved you had to leave and the women want to be mad at you because they are women and emotional blackmail is a tool to use against you even if it’s the last time they will see you for a few weeks or a year. Next, you stay awake all night getting your troops and gear checked and ready. Now all day you must solve mental problems and use your body to help you solve them. There might be time for chow now. You decide not to heat your ration which is wise because just as you open the meal you are summoned. Crisis solved you return to the meal and ants or flies have taken over. You squeeze the invaders out and eat a bit hoping you don’t get sick or you elect to toss it. Pull out the crackers, sprinkle some tabasco sauce, eat a bit of jerky from your final Post Exchange (PX) run and smoke a cigarette and consider what your men need next. Good Infantry Sergeants rarely get to eat a full meal undisturbed.

In the late 90’s the MREs started replacing instant coffee with tea and kid drink mixes. It was disgusting but since I was the Platoon Sergeant I’d go round collecting any unused coffee and that saved me in the field. Then I’d started to carry a small jar of instant coffee in my rucksack. Infantrymen need the caffeine and the green tea was absurd and ridiculous. Sometimes on the march I’d empty a few packs of instant coffee, sugar packets in my mouth and wash it down with water from the canteen. I never felt so alive. Just remembering makes me want to do it again. The DFACs replaced real coffee with instant cappuccino and girly beverages as well as part of the downward trend. We had political lectures about how women were every bit as good a physical grunts as we were. I knew my days as an Infantryman were numbered. In the 80s they wanted us to tell it like it was. In the 90s they wanted ideology. All I wanted was to take my men somewhere outside the USA, hurt some bad people, break some of their things and bring my men back alive and well to their families on order.

We had some pretty boring duties. On such duty was driving a target board for other soldiers to practice aiming at with a TOW missile sight. This required a few long and boring days of driving a vehicle back and forth in a field with a target board. Sometimes the driver of the target board would fall asleep and his vehicle would go wandering off, usually into a ditch somewhere. When I was a young Sergeant in charge of this detail I would radio call my Soldier driving and tell him to list the ingredients of a random MRE main course to keep him awake. It worked! The drivers stayed awake and we finished the gunnery tables without delay. I am convinced that to this day there are some men approaching middle age who can still list the ingredients of MRE beef stew without missing a beat.

During Desert Storm I was assigned to a transportation company. It seems the transportation people were short because the female soldiers were all getting pregnant so they could go home and the males were hurting themselves to do the same. Also, some transportation Soldiers had tried to make wine from the dehydrated fruit in Saudi Arabia, were caught and sent home because alcohol is illegal in Saudi Arabia. So, they pulled us from combat duties to get the job done. I was a bit disappointed that no grunts had ever thought of this before but then again we were always on the move or actually getting work or fighting done. Support troops had a lot of free time for fraternizing and booze making.

In 2007 I retired as the Battalion Command Sergeant Major of the same Reserve Battalion that I’d been issued my first MCI in 1984."

Q & A
What was your favorite MRE?

-Ham slices, Beef Slices or Meatballs in BBQ sauce. I always grabbled the omelette for breakfast. Nobody else seemed to like the omelette so it was available.

What was your most disliked MRE?

-Frankfurters and if you waved some at me today I would tear your arm off and beat you to death with it. Your arm, not the vile Frankfurters.

How many MRE's did you carry in your rucksack?

-Whatever they issued for the operation. I would always field strip them. There was never enough room to carry what we needed and rations.

What did Infantrymen think of MREs?

- Most men hated them. However eating was a task to keep you going and there was no desire to make eating in combat enjoyable. Many infantrymen would prefer to not eat MREs due to menu fatigue and the fact that MREs all taste the same after awhile. I observed many support troops would never eat an MRE however their attitude was that they were too good for combat rations. They also know they will have something else to eat soon so they can afford to skip a meal. Combat troops really shouldn't miss meals. Pictures of men "enjoying" MREs in the field with captions that they are enjoying the experience are nothing more than propoganda or ignorance.

How were MREs issued?

-Usually at breakfast the noon meal would be handed out. The First Sergeant was in charge of chow and he would task a Soldier to open the cases and hand them out. The intent was to keep Soldiers from raiding the box of all the preferred meals. If the Soldier was in your platoon or knew you he would try to give you what you wanted. When I became an NCO I would usually eat last. This meant I usually ended up with the omelette or vegetarian meal.

Did you carry a P-38.

-Yes. Some of us had them even though we never used them. It was mostly a conversation piece.

Did you ever find cigarettes in your rations?

-No. The story about finding an old ration with stale cigarettes was old and maybe stolen many times when I was a private. If I hear one more person claim that story as his own then he will rue the day.

Was there way to heat MCIs?

-Yes. Some claimed you could burn the cardboard box around them. I tried this and the heat wasn't enough. You could make a stove by poking holes in an empty can and putting some sort of fuel in the modified can. Then you placed the can with food over the ignited can. It was a pain but could be done.

Did you make any recipes with the combat rations?

-As a private I was silly enough to listen to Soldier lore about range cookies and all. I experimented a bit and decided it was a waste of time. As I was promoted and my responsibilities increased there was even less time for this nonsense. I just ate what I could, when I could.

Do you miss the rations?

-Sometimes when I drink too much whiskey, get hungry and feel nostalgic I have a hankering for salted crackers with blackberry jam and summer sausage. Anyone that has eaten a ration might know what I mean. I miss my Soldiers and often find myself wondering how they are doing now. In my memory we are miserable and eating our rations together. Our women are upset and causing trouble, our leaders and country have all but forgotten us, we miss our children horribly and we are in financial trouble. Still we are warriors in small groups eating our rations and we joke, smoke and carry on to get through the day. I hated it but miss it also.

[carlosflar]

Thanks to your father for sharing! It was a good read!
Could you ask him if he ever got to trade rats with soldiers from other places and what he thought of it?

[Cortexmelon]

What a great read, interesting through the whole thing! Big thanks to your dad for such fun stories.

I have to agree with the frankfurters, i could barely choke down one of the four, they should call it the Four Fingers of Death Challenge lol.

[blue87fj60]

Wow. Ask your dad who his DI’s were.
I was at Harmony Church around same time.
A-10-2
SSG Prince, SSG Czarneki, SG Lewis
Still remember their names all these years later lol

[ViperGTS]

Incredible post, thank your dad for us!

[SentientTootsieRoll]

Thanks for the responses! Here are some answers to your questions:

Thanks to your father for sharing! It was a good read!
Could you ask him if he ever got to trade rats with soldiers from other places and what he thought of it?

"I never traded rations with other Nations. In Korea there was no desire and a huge language barrier. In Europe I tried to wheel and deal with the Brits but they had no interest in American MRE's. Grunts would tell fantastic tales about how great the French rations were. It was rumored there was a small bottle of wine inside. I'd like to know if this was true. I did spend a few days with a Gebirgsjeager Battalion in the Alps. We ate in their DFAC and found it pleasant. Sergeants sat in the NCO DFAC. Unlike an American facility where all ranks ate, we simply walked in and sat at a round wooden table with a basket of hard rolls in the middle of the table. A very kind, middle aged civilian would bring us our chow and clean up after.

While contracting as a civilian in Afghanistan we would eat in the Brit DFAC. It was different in that you made your own eggs at breakfast and otherwise were served in a line. There was always an abundant supply of tea, coffee and other beverage related items no matter where you went with the Brits. They also had a huge dessert table with excellent desserts. Brit chow was mostly curry and was pretty good. They used to sample the American DFAC now and again for a change as well. First thing in the morning the Brits would have formation with their own personal mug or cup.

The Georgians ate mostly American chow that we may have provided. Once I spent a week at a FOB with US Marines. They were pretty excited when I landed and got off the bird. Not because I was there but because there were cold cuts also being delivered. Out of respect and old habit I waited for all the men in uniform to eat before I did."

I have to agree with the frankfurters, i could barely choke down one of the four, they should call it the Four Fingers of Death Challenge lol.

"We didn't use Frankfurters for any sort of challenge. We used to challenge each other to eat a pack of crackers without any water in a minute and a half or something. I only saw it done once. The usual wager was a dollar."

Wow. Ask your dad who his DI’s were.
I was at Harmony Church around same time.
A-10-2
SSG Prince, SSG Czarneki, SG Lewis
Still remember their names all these years later lol

"Hello Brother, I was in B-10-2. We were in the same Battalion. I recall seeing the old men from WW II coming to visit the old barracks they had trained in during the war. Those buildings are all gone now. DS Pace and DS Hasson.

After I finished as a Drill Sergeant and went back to the real Army (Infantry), I would be out calling cadence with my Platoon as we ran around post. Now and again I'd hear someone yell out "Drill Sergeant INSERTMYLASTNAMEHERE!" from other units as we ran past. They had been some of my troops at one time."

[gundog4314]

I can confirm most of this except the Korea stuff.

I recall in basic and at AIT doing KP (kitchen police or kitchen patrol depending where you were). My experience was it wasn't a bad gig. Just made for a very long day since you had to be there before breakfast and stayed till the dinner mess was all cleaned up. I hated that you entirely missed any training the Company or Platoon taught that day. Usually the Mess Sergeant was a SFC (E-7) and outranked all the majority of the DS staff so there were no issues there and the cooks and contractors were glad they didn't have to do the sh!t work us privates were doing. I do remember getting to eat ice cream from the soft serve and drinking a soda once. I do remember this clearly, there were two main jobs. One group that scrubbed pots, pans and giant ass sheet pans and a smaller group that constantly sweeped, mopped and cleaned the prep areas and out front the tables, seats, stainless steel and dumping garbage. YOU WANTED TO BE IN THE SECOND GROUP! HAHA! I had the honor of doing both at Ft. Dix and at Ft. Sill. The pots and pan scrubbing water was only one temp, melt the skin off your bones hot, and when the guy next to you got careless with his sprayer or scrubbing and splashed you...well the first time an apology works after the third or forth time there may be threats or an actual ass whoopin involved. I mean it was the 80's and they didn't necessarily approve of fighting any longer but the DS staff and Dining guys didn't care as long as it didn't get out of hand.

I went to Germany first but lucked out and went to a small US Army detachment supporting a Bundeswehr Artillery Regiment. We had our choice of chow halls either the tiny one the US had or the Bundeswehr one, after getting promoted I got to use the German NCO Club/ Mess hall too that was leaps and bounds better than the other two and had waiters to bring you your food and drinks....that was the freakin LIFE! Our German counterparts could drink during work but we weren't allowed so the score goes to the Germans. Don't get me wrong, I'm not dissing our cooks assigned to the Det. we all pre-signed our meal card sheet thing so they always got their max funding. Once a month was Surf & Turf with real legit steak and lobster tails. During Thanksgiving everyone chipped in 20-40 bucks for extra food and we invited our German brothers over for turkey and fixins. Oddly enough, I do not recall ever eating a MRE in Germany. We did eat several German EPa's since they handled most of our field logistics.

Unfortunately that wonderful unit got deactivated shortly after Desert Storm ended and we all promptly got orders to other bases. Half would stay in Germany, half to the States. Bad stroke of luck they did it alphabetically and all of us at the end of the alphabet went to the states. I nearly sh!t myself when I got my orders and they were for Fort Bragg! I don't think I ran more than 3 miles the entire time I was in Deutschland and 3 miles at Bragg was called "Monday PT" if not 4 miles!

Did I mention I got to Bragg in June? Have any of you felt the heat and humidity of mid-North Carolina in June?? Now compound that from coming from no humidity/heat cold ass Germany. Yeah...I ended up not going to Division (82nd Airborne) but to Corps Artillery due to a special weapons qualification that one of the 155mm Battalions handled for Corps. Then promptly thrown out in the field for the next 20 some odd days. At least we still had money to practice our mission. We jumped quite a bit, we did Air Mobile ops with our guns and CH-47's and shooting a lot of bullets (HE, Illums and other BE rounds) I remember starving a lot during that first FTX. We only got 2 MRE's a day and it was a rare day indeed when we got T-rats or chow brought in hot/cold cans from the rear.

I did learn a lot from that first problem, the First being the M-198 is a hands on, no-frills, pig of a gun. The Second, how to doctor up and fix MRE's to make them more palatable. Like the original author said, there were only 12 menus back then and they all got monotonous incredibly fast. Since MRE heaters weren't in the Brown Bag rations I ever had we would tape them to the 5-Ton's muffler or toss it on the engine block to heat them up. Spices and sauces make sand taste good. Ft. Bragg is all sand, it gets everywhere and in everything, enough hot sauce will even make sand good. Add in some AAFES garlic, onion and creole seasoning and you've got a gourmet meal. Third, and most important lesson was Pogey Bait. Bring your own stuff out with you. After a couple FTX's I was so sick of MRE's I only ate the crackers and maybe the M&Ms if I was lucky enough to get the spaghetti, which was never since I was an NCO and the troops picked first. I did eat pounds of beef jerky though that stuff is a lifesaver. But eating that much protein all the time will turn you into a one man toxic gas chamber, ask anyone that drinks or knows someone that drinks a lot of protein shakes. I also had a nice arrangement with the First Sergeant's driver to roll by the 24 Hour Shopette next to the Burger King and pick me up more beef jerkey and smokes when they went back to the rear. Top always had to go back and check on the rear party to make sure they weren't screwing off (this was the day before cell phones and all). He would never bring out BK for us but he did enjoy going through the drive through in a Hummer with the Top while they ate their fill. Other great items were Packets of soup (hot in winter/ cold in summer) and pedialyte electrolytes truly life savers.

I shouldn't admit this since there are younger members here but on more than once occasion, okay, okay perhaps all of them I would bring out miniature bottles of Makers Mark or Jim Beam and maybe Wild Turkey for trading goods. Sometimes it was nice on a cold night to sit on the trail with a buddy with a little bottle of "warm you up" and kinda forget where you were for a few moments.

Now to continue on with the Q&A

What was your favorite MRE?
Either Beef in BBQ Sauce or the Meatballs in Tomato Sauce. Spaghetti was the best cause it had M&Ms but I never got (see above).

What was your most disliked MRE?
Hands down Chicken Ala King, I still cannot eat it to this day without gagging.

How many MRE's did you carry in your Ruck?
At Bragg usually 3-4 field stripped ones with another 4 in my A-Bag. Note: Bragg had BRB or Battle Ready Battalions which were deployable in 24 hours notice so we always had a A & B Bag packed. Technically or rather allegedly the 3 Corps 155 Battalions rotated this but the 39th always was on it more since it was a AFAB rather than Air Mobile like the other two Batts.

What did Artillerymen think of MREs?
Back then pretty much universally despised. It literally took me 20-25 years to remotely want to try one again. We always treated someone as suspect if they said "I like this" HAHA, that guy is gonna be a lifer!

How were MREs issued?
We had two modes. Each Artillery Section had about 10 guys some more, some less. In the morning after Stand To or about 30 minutes before dawn we'd get up. Once Stand To was over most guys would perform the 3 S's Sh!t, Field Shower (moist towlette/baby wipe bath) and shave. Most often the junior man would go over to the First Sergeants Hummer and get 2 cases of MRE's. For Mode 1: The EMs on a rotating basis would pick first out of the box. Once they were done the NCO's picked. Mode 2: The Section Chief or Gunner opened the box laid them all face down and someone yelled 'GO!" and what ya got was what ya got. Made things a lot more fun and you were able to vent some frustration....I'll leave that one alone right there and you can use your imagination. I know you are asking what about the ones left in the box??? We usually saved those as a "midrats" for guys that had to pull OP or Radio watch to help keep them alert, fueled and awake. Note: You always took care of the box, Back then some had cardboard sleeves which made good field expedient toilets...way better than squatting or leaning against a tree while trying not to drop a deuce in your BDU pants....and yes, it happens HAHA

Did you carry a P-38?
Nope.

Did you ever find cigarettes in your rations?
Nope. But you could always find them in my NBC decontamination box thing on my M-17 or M-40. It was pretty crush proof not to mention water proof!

Was there a way to heat MCIs?
I never ate them in the service but plenty of Vietnam guys said cutting up blocks of C4 and lighting it with a zippo worked great. Again, I have no experience.

Did you ever make recipes with the combat rations?
Other than varied types of Ranger Pudding which consisted of Cocoa, a little water, sugar and creamer. Some guys put the coffee in it as well. For the most part for me anyways, I tried to put as much stuff in the main (entree) as possible. Open entree, smash crackers into entree, tabasco into entree, cheese into entree and mix. Anything such as peanut butter and jelly was saved for PB&Js when you got a packet of old MRE bread (which looks very similar to the bread you find in Canadian IMPs). Two of the same flavor of jelly was preferred.

Do you miss the rations?
Old Brown Bag ones NOPE! All the other ones...obviously! I'm a reviewer HAHA

Thanks for posting this STR was a fun trip down memory lane and give my respects to your father.

Cheers!
GD

[blue87fj60]

Wow. Ask your dad who his DI’s were.
I was at Harmony Church around same time.
A-10-2
SSG Prince, SSG Czarneki, SG Lewis
Still remember their names all these years later lol

"Hello Brother, I was in B-10-2. We were in the same Battalion. I recall seeing the old men from WW II coming to visit the old barracks they had trained in during the war. Those buildings are all gone now. DS Pace and DS Hasson.

After I finished as a Drill Sergeant and went back to the real Army (Infantry), I would be out calling cadence with my Platoon as we ran around post. Now and again I'd hear someone yell out "Drill Sergeant INSERTMYLASTNAMEHERE!" from other units as we ran past. They had been some of my troops at one time."
[/quote]

Nice. Like your dad that was the only time I was issued MCI rations. Though we had them when I was at Harmony Church. Home of the biggest roaches imaginable spotted while walking around during fire watch in middle of night.
Was there in middle of summer so went to bed sweating and woke up freezing . It was weird.
I remember KP duty well. Dumping all the leftover food outside in a pit in the ground with a lid. Some guys would come around in an old beat up Ford pickup and dip the food out with buckets and fill 55 gallon drums. I guess they were local pig farmers.
Such memories of Benning. Lol

[Richard w.]

Small world. I was in B-10-2 at Harmony Church also. Winter/Spring rotation of 1983.

I can confirm that if you crushed the MCI box around your mail meal can and burned it, it would indeed heat the contents. Open the can first!

With the early brown bag MREs it was more involved. Ate a lot of "armpit meals", having warmed the pouch under my clothes next to the skin. Heating some water in a canteen cup with a heat tab and submerging the pouch was better, but setting that up wasn't always possible.

[RockyRaab]

YGBSM, Tootsie. Your DAD enlisted in 1984? what are you, nine years old?

I was commissioned in 1969, went to flight school, then six months of "post-grad" schools before going to 'Nam. My first three months there, I was stationed at the Army's LZ English with the 173rd Airborne. We were on our own for breakfast and lunch (when we weren't flying, which wasn't often.) In the evening, we could get cleaned up, don our best uniform and go to the General's Martini Hour, then Dinner at his mess. There, we had covered tables and were served by Army mess men (almost always Black men. Who said slavery ended?). We very often avoided all that and chose to eat an MCI or a LRRP. LRRPs were dehydrated and contained just an entree and (I think) a separate accessories pack. An MCI or a LRRP was also our breakfast and lunch.

Two very vivid memories are that any MCI labeled as pork turned out to be a lard hockey puck. Little if any meat, just a white lump of fat. And the chili with beans LRRP would never fully rehydrate but rather turned into a meal of mud and gravel. It would sometimes take several days of meals, but we'd always save any rare MCI poundcake until we got a can of MCI peaches. Mixed together, the two were heaven on hell (The latter being 'Nam, of course). It was not at all uncommon to get an MCI with cigarettes in the Acc pack, green label Lucky Strike, Chesterfield, or Pall Mall were the most common. I wasn't a smoker, so gave them away or tossed them. Everybody carried and used a P-38 - and kept a spare taped to our dog tags.

My last seven months there, I flew a highly deniable mission assigned to MACV-SOG and although our entire base was only 300 x 300 meters, we had an all-ranks chow hall. Food was partly supplied by locals, and we ate monkey, dog, water buffalo, and deer often enough that it raised no eyebrows. Monkey pho (noodle soup) is great, btw.

Beef steak was both the best and worst. It was best the first day, if it arrived still frozen. After that, we ate it in progressive stages of green mold until the Army Veterinarian in charge of food safety called it no longer edible. Often, that was two days after you'd puke it right back up. Tied for worst were the godawful dehydrated eggs and milk.

Fast forward almost 20 years...I had my first MRE the same week I retired with 23 years of service, during Desert Shield. I still enjoy them, but that's because I eat them only rarely and not daily. I keep a dozen MREs and TOTMs on hand all the time.