The Rise and Fall of a Nerd

So being the supportive wife that I am, I decided to send Edward a book to read at night. You know, after he's had the snot beaten out of him during the day, he could cozy up with a with a nice book for a few minutes. I decided for nostalgia's sake, and out of sheer nerdiness that I would send Edward a Choose Your Own Adventure, Prisoner of the Ant People book. Unbeknownst to me books along with candy-bars, and anything pleasurable for that matter, is banned. So Edward promptly turned my package in. He got in trouble of course. Not because he had a book in his possession, but because he was a nerd. No joke! They had him do a whole lot of push-ups for being a nerd. Needless to say I got a scolding in the mail for exposing him.

Hee hee.

MREs, Candy and the Black Market

Let's talk about MREs. For the uninitiated, MREs (Meals Ready to Eat) are precooked prepackaged (in some cases, pre-chewed and digested) meals the army uses when they are in the field. You can buy them at Army Surplus stores if you'd like an example. They come in a heavy plastic brown bag and break down further into maybe 5-7 pouches, each a processed food item.Your typical MRE might have say... Italian Chicken with shell pasta. In addition to your entree, you get a small pouch of trail mix, an envelope of powdered electrolyte drink, a pouch containing a palm sized piece of wheat snack bread, a pouch of fortified cheese spread (with bacon) and a fig bar. Ideally, the MRE contains 1000-1300 calories to sustain soldiers in the field who are burning more calories, but with so many pouches of snackish foods the Basic training soldier typically turns quickly to economics and trade.


Allow me to back up a moment: In basic training one isn't given a lot of time or a lot of choice concerning food. Granted in the chow hall soldiers can select from as any as 5 entrees and side choices, not to mention an alright salad bar. However one typically has a mere 7 minutes to wolf down their food. This tension, combined with a logical lack of any and all junk food and a blanket ban on any food outside the chow hall (i.e. no between meal snacks) makes the typical BCT soldier somewhat edgy about his/her food.

Back to MREs. Soldiers can get pretty picky about MREs even though we're not allowed to choose our own. It's a lottery with the lucky winning the popular choices (Beef Ravioli because it has stellar side items) and losers taking what's left (Tuna on pita bread because it's measly.) On top of that, and again, although it's ostensibly prohibited, there is a lively market for trading sides. Fortified peanut butter often trades slightly higher than it's counterpart cheese spreads (in plain, bacon or jalapeño) and Hooah Bars (like an Army Powerbar) run much higher than carrot pound cake but are roughly equal to mint chocolate brownies, which are pretty rare. The trading of entree items happens more rarely but it's not unheard of. Some soldiers go so far as to trade their entrees away for a pair of wheat snack breads and a fortified peanut butter, but this is rare as it will likely leave the trader somewhat hungary.

Now rarely but occasionally a package of M&Ms or Skittles will be inside a MRE. Some platoons are allowed to eat theirs in spite of aforementioned ban on junk food. In our platoon, however, we are not allowed. Sadly only the naive (like myself) ever really turn candy over to the drill sergeants. Part of the Gimbel tendency to rabidly avoid trouble, I suppose. Most soldiers who find candy secret it away under their body armor, into their briefs or, if they are foolish, into their pockets. Pockets are for the foolish because of the random contraband shakedowns that happen on occasion.

Yes many like to eat the candy but there is also a vigorous black market for goods of this nature. I have heard, for example, that a Snickers bar will go for about $8 and soda runs for about a dollar an ounce. Getting it is the tricky part because you have to know a private with PX privileges.

Anyway, all this explains why you guys have to curb the impulse I know you're all feeling to send me care packages fulll of crispy snack crackers, chewy cookies or scrummy fudge. Fight the impulse! Your letters will have to suffice. As soon as I get home you can bet that I'm gonna whip up a batch of fudgy brownies with walnuts first thing. Yum!

~Edward

Another Typical Day in the Gas Chamber

So everybody keeps asking me how Edward has been doing in Basic. How do you answer a question like that? My impression of Basic Training is that it really really sucks for everybody, but that it's a necessary evil. So... I just got a letter from Edward today talking about his experience in the gas chamber and though I'd share:

"We had a few hours briefing about the operation of our chem mask. Pretty typical stuff. Most people were a mixture of nervous/excited. Through the trees we could see the squat brown building lurking like a beast. I personally am not especially fond of gas masks, it feels like you're breathing through a straw, but I can tell you it beats the alternative. They have a sliding metal door and a drill Sergeant stands there telling us that we're all going to die.

Inside, the walls are damp concrete, kind of like a basement. The lights are dim or maybe it seems that way through the gas or the fogged up glass of the mask.

Suddenly we are instructed to break the seal of our mask and expose our nose and mouth and recite our name, rank and social security number. After a brief burning sensation and a moment of panic I resealed my mask clearing out the bad air. My eyes burned, my nose dripped mucous, I was breathing hard. I could feel the burning now on my neck and hands and I was particularly concerned almost panicky about the next part.

They rushed us over near the exit and shouted for us to remove our masks. Taking a deep breath I slipped my head out from the straps. I pounced on the first three lines of the 'Soldiers Creed,' the chant we say every morning. Gagging, I fought my way through lines 4 and 5. Up to line 7 I was okay and then they threw me out the door.

On hitting the daylight my first thought was that I couldn't breathe. I was breathing only in short little hiccups. Fighting back panic again I walked as calmly as I could, waiving my arms to air-ate my clothes. Then my eyes started burning. Ow. That was the worst part. The only way to clear my eyes was to open them... which stung.

Long story short, five minutes later I was alright. Now about 8 hours later I can still smell it just a touch and the back of my neck still burns. All in all, it wasn't as bad as I expected and I'd have no real hesitation to repeat the experience within the confines of a mission."

So there you have it. A day in the life of Private Gimbel.