A odd memory of B rations and C.L.P.
Dyslexic bad punctuation ramble warning.
My team partner a young guy is sitting in jump seat woofing down a convenience store burger as we’re waiting on west coast freight .
It is the kind of burger that has probably been under a heat lamp for hours. And yet the smell reminds me of being a kid when we were fortunate enough to get hot rations as young grunts.
So this memory maybe early 1985 and I’m smiling is of my friend Soul Jap half black half Japanese we both were tight as we shared the same birthday date and same year 1966.
The others in the rifle platoon called us twins yet this memory was from a company a live fire movement to contact range.
This was at night we would do the ranges in the daytime then do them at night weaving a rug is how our Platoon sergeant would refer to this repetition in training.
We’re waiting to move and I changed the barrel out and oiled the bolt on the pig the M-60 machine gun as we were firing belts of 7.62 and the barrel was red hot glowing in the night.
So my brother and i are laying side by side waiting on the call over the radio to move and i could feel him move reaching into his B.D.U. pocket and he says in whisper hey bro you wanna a bite.
And under the flare lights in Soul Japs hand was a B ration burger from the field trains mess hall from probably from a day earlier.
I took a bite my hands smelled of C.L.P. Passing the cold burger back to him he takes a bite hands it back to me.
The dude was salt of the earth.
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