(Tony posted this in 03.)   author Thomas Nisbet

 ”C-Rations…A Love Story”

 I have to tell someone. Keeping it a secret all these years has taken its toll on my sanity. You’re the only one I trust and hope you willunderstand.  Don’t judge me too harshly.  I was a Medical consultant on UH1B’s and had a contractual agreement  with  Uncle Sam. Not a difficult assignment, but it almost paid well. Their  headquarters in D.C. had asked if I’d go look at some problems in a quiet  little place called Bear Cat, VIETNAM. Wouldn’t take long I was told. So I  booked passage on the Princeton and arrived late in August. It was a hot,  dusty little town without one restaurant or bar. So I Picked up my blanket
 and looked for an empty embarkation box to sleep in. So that night, under  the gaze of a floating flare and the gentle  rhythmic sound of M-60′s, I slept.

 I’m not certain when it was that I first realized I was in love with
 C-Rations. It must have been a gradual thing because I never did go through  that knock me out of my socks phase. I just seemed to wake up one morning,  opened the box and she was there. I knew. C knew. As if the master plan of  the universe had placed us together. Together! But, only for one of life’s   cruel short periods of time.

 We both knew it was wrong. C came from a family of Flag Rank Officers,  General Foods. And, me? I was just a kid from south Georgia. Young and  innocent. She was bright and shiny with the words PROPERTY OF THE  U.S.GOVERNMENT stamped on her full, smooth, rounded sides. Cold to the touch  but, oh so warm when held tightly over a flame. Whereas, I was just a piece  of Army trash in a dirty flight suit and unpolished boots. But, each
time I saw C I fell deeper into the spell of her charms. It couldn’t be simple  heartburn.

 I’d heard what men said about her. How her Ham &Limas were untouchable. Her  Spaghetti needed seasoning. The saltpeter they had forced her to be with  when she was young. The tasteless rolls and green cigarettes. It didn’t  matter. None of it mattered. I wanted her. Once I found her I wanted to  protect her.

To keep her from all those John Waynes and K-Bars they had used  to open her. They didn’t understand her. They didn’t know C as I knew C. I  loved her.

 We had to steal our moments together. First we saw each other twice a day.  Gradually, we grasped for more and more time. Anytime. Just to be with each  other. For as I drew nearer to C, I could feel the emotions start from deep  within my gut. My feelings would often run from both ends while knowing this  was true love. The highs and lows of our love flowed together like
nothing  I’d ever experienced before. All I wanted to do was be with C. To Hell with  the rest of the world.

 Then it happened. Someone whispered a rumor. I heard it first in the four  holer and later in the Green Garden Hose Shower Room. Nasty rumors which  couldn’t be true. They said C was going away. Her father had sent her an  ultimatum. Either be on the 0600 Marlog or she was to be disinherited.
She’d  never be able to see her little brother roll of toilet paper again. Her  teenage plastic spoon. Her aunt Fruit Cocktail. She had to choose between ME  and her filthy rich, godforsaken family. Why did it have to come to this?

 I tried all night to reach her on the field phone. Her new roommate, SPAM,  didn’t know where she was. I was frantic. I looked for her everywhere, but  it was too late. She was gone. And with her went my heart and Kaeopectate. I
 was left with only the memories.

 I’m older now and can afford to eat at almost any Burger King I want to. I  no longer have a medical contract with U.S. Gov. I still think about her  though. The nights we spent together during the monsoons in our hardback  tent. Just the two of us and eight of our closest friends. Whenever I reach  for the Tabasco sauce I see C standing there with the moonlight glistening with her open top. The fragrance of her gravy still wisps through the air.  She was so beautiful. And, for awhile, she was mine.