I'm Eatin' in the Rain

A Stodghill Says So blog:


After writing about the magnificent latrine yesterday, somebody asked what came next. Actually no one asked but I decided to write the story anyway.
We had spent only a couple of days at the camp when the order came, "We're moving out in five minutes." A steady rain added to the excitement, anticipation and joy as we climbed aboard open trucks for the short ride to the Southampton docks.
Before reaching the ships waiting to take us across the channel to Normandy, we stopped at an open field where a chow line had been set up despite the typical English weather. It did not seem to occur to the men in charge that the truck ride had lasted a mere 15 minutes and back at camp was a warm and dry mess hall. No one complained because rather than the usual Army food we were served fried chicken, mashed potatoes, vegetables, fruit cocktail and apple pie. This was dumped in our messkits as the same cold and steady rain continued to fall. Then at the end of the chow line each man was handed a Clark bar, a carton of cigarettes and ten clips of rifle ammunition, each clip containing eight rounds.
Only the Army could have expected men with a rifle slung over one shoulder and a blanket roll containing all his worldly possessions hanging from the other to somehow hold a full messkit in one hand and a candy bar, carton of cigarettes and ten clips of ammunition in the other.
We ate at picnic tables set up in the open field. Despite the soggy fried chicken, rain-soaked mashed potatoes and wet apple pie, everyone ate with gusto. Remarks were exchanged about the unusual quality of the food until Mike Spinelli, an 18-year-old rifleman from Cleveland, said, "They're fattening us up for the kill."
Who could argue?

Dreadul remark! Even I woud not want to argue that not so delicate point.

Dick,
I don't imagine you ever referred to your experience in the Army as "The good old Days." There are some memories that will never be forgotten and you have a full plate.

Alice, he was merely speaking the truth. We all knew that.

Abe, aside from the combat end of it, I actually enjoyed the Army.

Quote :

Abe, aside from the combat end of it, I actually enjoyed the Army.

I know what you mean, Dick. I spent 30 years working in a hospital. One
expression I heard many times was, "If it weren't for all these sick
people, this would be a nice place to work."

Isn't it amazing the things we remember, like food we have at those times in our lives.

Carol

And thankfully you made it back in order to share these wonderful stories Dick. That soggy dinner must have been pretty powerful; goodness knows that the ammo could not have lasted you very long.

Dick, from the time you started this thread until now, I've been trying to find a video clip from a scene in the 1955 movie version of To Hell and Back. Admittedly, it was a long way from being the best WWII film made, bur there was one scene that I kept remembering as I read your thread, one where Murphy's squadron members were getting testy from having to eat their rations during a heavy downpour, with the rain fall pouring into their food trays. I looked for a YouTube of the scene, but this still taken near the end of the scene was the best I could do. It might help to show what happens to GI's when their dinners get rained on - literally.

Ann

I remember eating chow in the mud under a deuce-and a half to get out of the rain many times. These trucks were easier to get under than tanks, so we used the trucks as shelters whenever possible. Squatting there under one of those trucks while holding an open mess kit and a rifle, and all the other stuff was an exercise routine in itself. There was an art to it.

You had to find just the right spot ,or the "dirty" water drops would gather oil and filth from the bottom of the truck and drip down into your food. With practice though, you could find a place where only the "clean" water dripped down from the bottom of the truck and into your food.

Lots of times we werent lucky enough to get a meal served from a field kitchen. You just opened whatever you had in your pocket and let it kind of dribble or slide down to your mouth. Then you swished it around with water from the canteen while you walked. Coffee crytal stuff swished with a mouthfull of canteen water did wonders to keep one awake when they have been up for a few days with no sleep, and need to stay alert for awhile.

It counter- acted the pitter-patter of rain on the helmet. The cold and numbing feeling of water sliding down your neck and down your back just added the right feeling to the slipping, heavy foot feeling of 20 lbs of mud clinging to the wet boots as you slogged along and slid food (sometimes frozen)down your throat, swishing coffee crystals and water to keep you awake. Its a nightmare to run out of water in the canteen. I can take just about anything but that.

Ah yes, the good old army days?

A good meal always taste better when you haven't eaten in a while. One of the best meals I had was when I was about seven. I had run away from home and spent a very hungry night in the open air. Next morning I manage to precure some fish which I cook over an open camp fire. I can remember it now, the smokey flavour as the fish melted in my mouth. There was no rain but even if there had been it wouldn't have made it taste any differently. It was a true feast.

Eating in the rain did bring back some not too fond memories.
Bivouac in basic training seemed to thrive on the worst conditions possible. Either it was raining or it was stinking hot with high humidity and mosquitoes swarming everywhere. The positive thing about the rain was an aid in cleaning the tin plates and cooling things down, but sleeping in those wet clothes wasn't that pleasant. When I read Dick's book I could imagine what it was like wearing the same wet clothes drying only from body heat. Eating rations mixed with rain water did not enhance the taste - if anything could.

Dick's story reminds me of when I was about 7 or 8 back in Bangladesh.

Except it'd be 'I'm eatin' out in the sun' instead of 'in the rain'

That was when I'd help my uncles with ploughing the land, sowing seeds and fishing out in the rice fields in the tropical heat. We'd take some of the food with us from home in the morning and eat it out in the field at lunch time. Some of it got spoilt from the heat, so occasionally we'd have one of my cousins come over at lunch time with an extra serving.

When you combine hard grafting, with the heat, the hunger and the sweat from the tropical sun, things do taste much nicer. Sometimes, we'd also pit roast the fish we'd caught out there in the field and have it before coming home in the evenings.

Dick,

Once again your stories stir old memories.

Two things I could never carry enough of when going into the field were ammunition and Tabasco. The jungle provided the food...Tabasco made it edible!

Last October my husband had surgery and his first words on waking from the anesthetic were, "When's lunch?"

A little later he found out the answer was, "Tomorrow."

He considered not eating for 24 hours the worst part of the surgery.

Carol

I believe someone once said that civilization was only three meals away from anarchy.

thehairymob wrote:

I believe someone once said that civilization was only three meals away from anarchy.

Ann