
Category: War
It is a soldier’s lot to gripe about his food. That has been the case since well before Hannibal’s hordes coaxed their elephants across the Alps. For literally millennia, those were pretty reasonable gripes. Then America happened.
Ours is the best-equipped, most powerful military in all of human history. In addition to $13 billion aircraft carriers and $600 toilet seats, Uncle Sam invests breathtaking amounts of effort and treasure in feeding our boys and girls serving downrange. I can attest from personal experience that he’s pretty darn good at that nowadays.
T-ration is short for Tray Ration. These are pre-cooked group meals sealed in big tins. To prepare them, you simply dunk the sealed can in boiling water for a while. Think Chef Boyardee on steroids. That stuff was actually quite good.
We used to refer to MREs as “Meals Refused by Ethiopians.” That’s not really fair. MREs are quite tasty these days. Additionally, every meal includes a flameless ration heater that offers a hot meal almost anywhere on Planet Earth under almost any circumstances. All that really began back in 1941 when a University of Minnesota physiologist named Ancel Keys developed the U.S. Army’s first K-rations.
Food of the Gods
With World War II just beginning to conflagrate around the globe, American troops needed a compact, lightweight meal that could be eaten with minimal preparation. This ration needed to be palatable and nutritious. It also had to be shelf-stable and amenable to mass production. With all this in mind, Keys hit the local supermarket to do some research.
Keys started out with dry sausages, hard biscuits, candy, and chocolate bars. The resulting DIY field ration weighed 28 ounces and provided 3,200 kilocalories. He divided everything into thirds and christened it breakfast, dinner, and supper. He field-tested the resulting amalgam on six soldiers at a nearby Army base. They rated the meals as “palatable” and “better than nothing.” It was a start.
The Army called this new field food K-rations. Uncle Sam already fielded A-rations, B-rations, C-rations, and D-rations. While the military claimed that K was simply an easily recognizable letter, it was widely understood to have been chosen in homage to Dr. Keys.
Details
Army grunts soon referred to K-rations as “Paratrooper Rations.” The boxes and contents were standardized. The fatigue pants pockets of the standard M1943 uniform were specifically designed to carry them.
K-rations were never intended for long-term use. The original stipulation was a maximum of 15 days, but this was later reduced to 10. Issue versions provided some 2,830 kilocalories, which really wasn’t adequate to support a soldier for an entire day if he was operating in hostile environments or engaging in heavy physical work. However, K-rats were portable, filling, and tolerable. Troops in austere environments subsisting solely on K-rations predictably lost weight over time, but they didn’t starve.
Some of the K-ration’s contents were downright nasty. The lemon powder was designed to be dissolved into water to make lemonade. However, it was so acidic as to be unpleasant. Additionally, the pork loaf was heavy on fat and tough to get down. As a result, troops oftentimes discarded these components, further reducing the calorie content.
The Gift That Keeps on Giving
Nicotine is a shockingly effective anxiety drug, and back then nobody knew how horrible smoking was on the human body. Each K-ration included a total of 12 cigarettes divided into three 4-cig packets. The really popular brands were represented, including Chesterfield, Camel, Lucky Strike, Pall Mall, and others. A dozen coffin nails a day lays the foundation for a proper smoking habit. Millions of GIs came home hopelessly addicted to cigarettes as a result.
While cigarettes served as a welcome diversion for troops stuck in some of the world’s most horrible places, they were actually much more than that. Troops hoarded their cigarettes and then used them to barter for local goods and services. Across both theaters of war, American cigarettes became a sort of ad hoc currency.
Ruminations
Early K-rations were short of ascorbic acid or Vitamin C. Troops feeding too long from K-rats alone began to show signs of scurvy. Subsequent upgrades fortified the drink powders with Vitamin C and rectified that problem.
Untold millions of K-rations were produced, but the Army tired of them soon after the war. They were replaced by C-rations, the famous canned ration packs of the Vietnam War era, starting in 1948. Remaining stocks of K-rations were distributed to U.S. Aid programs in recovering war zones overseas.
Each ration contained a breakfast, dinner, and supper. Twelve rations came to a case. Three cases made up a crate made of either wood or fiberboard. With a total of 36 daily rations per crate, a single crate would usually support a platoon in the field for a day.
K-rations included such sketchy stuff as chopped ham and eggs, canned pork luncheon meat, cervelat sausage, beef or pork loaf, and a nearly inedible hard D-ration emergency chocolate bar. The menu was upgraded over time and also included such stuff as chewing gum, matches, a bouillon packet, toilet paper, halazone water purification tablets, a simple flat wooden spoon, and fifteen dextrose sugar pills. The end result supported literally countless GIs.
Food in the Army evolves over time. Modern stuff is diverse, well-reasoned, nutritious, and packable. WW2-vintage K-rats were much less so but still kept a little meat on a guy’s bones no matter where he served. The humble K-ration likely did more to win World War II than all of the Navy’s battleships combined. It has been said that an Army marches on its stomach, and Ancel Key’s K-rations kept those stomachs filled.
Sixteen million Americans served in uniform during World War 2; 418,500 perished. One in every 38 American servicemen gave their lives for their country.
Our flight crews had it the worst: 44.4% of all RAF bomber crewmen died in the rarefied skies above Europe. However, that pales in comparison to the German U-boats.
In the opening salvoes of the Battle of the Atlantic, U-boat wolf packs wreaked unmitigated havoc on Allied transport ships. Over time, however, improvements in countermeasures as well as the breaking of the Enigma code fundamentally changed that calculus. By war’s end, three out of every four German submariners had been killed in combat.
Occurring as it did in the middle of vast oceans, WW2 naval combat was pitiless. The winners might go home to fight another day. The losers almost invariably slipped beneath the waves to either drown or be mercilessly crushed by the weight of the sea. Such stakes ensured that all involved fought like Norse berserkers.
The Players
The night May 5, 1943 was clear with a bright moon. U-66, a Type IXC German U-boat under the command of Oberleutnant Gehard Seehausen, was cruising along the surface recharging its batteries off of the Cape Verde Islands. U-66 was Hitler’s seventh-most successful German submarine now on her ninth war cruise. Her tally included some 33 Allied ships. U-66 had been at sea for four months and was desperately low on fuel.
As luck would have it, a U.S. Navy TBM Avenger launched from the American escort carrier U.S.S. Block Island picked up U-66 on radar some 20 miles from the U.S.S. Buckley, a compact American destroyer escort that was just itching for a fight. The Buckley’s skipper was Lt. Cmdr. Brent Able. In the dim light, the captain of U-66 mistook the Buckley for a German resupply submarine.
The Fight
By the time Seehausen realized his mistake, the two warships were only 4,000 yards apart. The German skipper ordered a snap torpedo shot that passed harmlessly off the Buckley’s starboard side. Lieutenant Cmdr. Able opened fire with everything that would shoot.
The Buckley ravaged the trapped U-boat for the next two minutes with her 3-inch deck guns, 40mm Bofors, 20mm Oerlikons, and sundry .50-caliber machine guns. High-explosive rounds ripped into the submarine’s conning tower and superstructure. Seehausen fired another ineffectual torpedo. Then Lt. Cmdr. Able then gave his ship hard right rudder and drove the nimble vessel up onto the deck of the U-boat.
In desperation, the Seehausen ordered his men topside. Some attempted to surrender. Others fought like Dervishes.
The crew of the Buckley had emptied their small arms lockers. First Officer Klaus Herbig led a German boarding party onto the forecastle of the destroyer escort. American sailors with Thompsons and .50-caliber machine guns tore them to pieces.
To say this was a desperate fight just doesn’t do it justice. Two of the attacking Kriegsmariners were struck in the head with coffee mugs. Gun crews unable to depress their weapons sufficiently began throwing empty ammunition cases down on the advancing Germans. Several enemy sailors still managed to board the American vessel.
The boatswain’s mate pulled his 1911 pistol and shot the first man dead. The Chief Fire Controlman swept the deck of the German boat with his Thompson. Lt. Cmdr. Able later said he enjoyed, “Excellent results.”
One enemy sailor managed to make it into the wardroom where a ship’s cook doused him in hot coffee before pummeling him into submission with the coffee pot. Five Germans were captured alive onboard the Buckley and escorted below by a sailor armed with a hammer. Meanwhile, the German deck gun crew literally disintegrated when struck by a burst of four 40mm high-explosive rounds.
As the U-boat scraped along the Buckley’s starboard side, an American torpedoman tossed a hand grenade through the open hatch to the U-boat’s conning tower. The dying U-boat then veered into the Buckley near the stern, tearing a hole in the engine room and shearing off the starboard screw. However, U-66 was done. The entire fight had spanned a mere 16 minutes.
The Aftermath
The crew of the Buckley expended 300 rounds of .45 ACP, 60 rounds of .30-06, 30 rounds of 12-gauge buckshot, and a pair of fragmentation grenades along with the aforementioned dinnerware and coffeepot. Roughly half of the U-boat’s crew survived. Oberleutnant Seehausen went down with his boat. He was 26.
The Buckley returned to Boston under her own power. Lieutenant Cmdr. Brent Able was awarded the Navy Cross, the Navy’s second-highest award for valor. His crew was authorized to wear a combat star on their European-African Theater ribbons.
The sinking of U-66 was the last close quarters ship-to-ship combat in U.S. Naval history. What a bunch of freaking studs.
I pulled this off Quora, I saw it taking a “Microbreak” at work surfing the phone. so I shamelessly clipped it.
In 1974, surviving WWII commanders wargamed Hitler’s invasion of Britain and made a darkly comedic discovery: the Royal Navy wouldn’t even need to fire its guns to sink the German fleet.
The highly detailed simulation of Operation Sea Lion was held at the Royal Military Academy Sandhurst and featured actual combat veterans making the decisions, including Luftwaffe General Adolf Galland and Kriegsmarine Admiral Friedrich Ruge.
The wargame yielded several unexpected insights, starting with the initial assault. Most historical assumptions suggest the Royal Air Force and Royal Navy would have crushed the invasion fleet before it ever reached the beaches.
Instead, the Sandhurst simulation showed that the Germans would have successfully landed around 90,000 troops in Kent and Sussex. Because the British Army had abandoned most of its heavy equipment during the evacuation of Dunkirk just months earlier, the coastal defenses were too weak and disorganized to stop the initial beachhead. The German army quickly pushed inland, capturing their early objectives.
But the success was short-lived, largely due to the fatal flaw in German logistics. The Kriegsmarine lacked purpose-built landing craft, forcing them to commandeer hundreds of flat-bottomed river barges from the Rhine to transport men and supplies across the English Channel.
Once the British realized a full-scale invasion was underway, the Royal Navy unleashed the Home Fleet from Scapa Flow. When the British cruisers and destroyers arrived in the Channel, they found that they did not need to rely on their main guns to destroy the German supply lines. Simply steaming through the invasion flotilla at high speed would generate enough wake to swamp and capsize the flimsy, unseaworthy river barges.
With the Channel completely severed by the Royal Navy and the RAF, the 90,000 German troops who had successfully landed were suddenly trapped. Cut off from food, medical supplies, and artillery shells, their advance ground to a halt.
The Luftwaffe suffered massive losses attempting an improvised aerial resupply. Facing a fully mobilized British defense and completely out of ammunition, the entire German invasion force was compelled to surrender within six days, proving that without absolute naval and air supremacy, Sea Lion was a guaranteed trap for the German army.










