Army Breakfasts in the Field

I never really liked Army food. Not even after a concerted effort was made to improve the way it was cooked and ultimately presented. There was one exception, however – breakfast in the field.

Whenever we went to the field for exercises, we would have to eat C-rations for lunch, but we got hot meals for breakfast and dinner. Breakfast was always my favorite. Food was cooked back in garrison and then brought out by the company or troop first sergeant. It was in Mermite cans. These were nothing more than slender insulated cans that slightly resembled tall coolers, but narrower.

Each can had three containers that would fit inside so a can could hold three different foods. One would hold scrambled eggs; a second would be bacon; and the third would have toast, from which one could make a great sandwich!

Sometimes, the mess hall (later in my career the name was changed to dining facility) would surprise us and also send out pancakes or French toast, complete with maple syrup. We usually got small pint cartons of orange juice along with coffee and milk.

I enjoyed the field breakfasts when the weather was more on the cool side of things rather than warmer. Everything tasted better. I can still remember the smells of the cooked bacon wafting through the air, mixing with the diesel of the tanks as they were running in the early morning mist (civilian for fog).

Officers ate after their men; the rationale was because if the food ran out then the leaders were deprived as well. When I became a company commander I often didn’t have time to get my meal. I was usually briefing platoon leaders or coordinating with headquarters on the radio. So my M151 Jeep driver would usually bring me a plate of something. We often used paper plates and plastic utensils. It cut down on the work for the mess personnel once they had to return to the post. I never really liked to stand in the chow line in the field anyhow.

I actually find myself still missing some field exercises; especially TEWTS in Germany, where it was just my driver and me. We would then supplement our diet with meats and bread from the local German shops. Oh, My!

But then, memories are selective, aren’t they?

(Arial 12)