Combat Cooks Finally Getting Some Respect

"You're writing a story about military cooks in Iraq?" the senior Air Force NCO asked. "I lost 26 pounds during my four months at Baghdad Airport - it's about time somebody exposed those SOBs!"

American GIs have made an art form of griping, and complaining about their chow seems to be firmly embedded in the GI Bill of Rights. One veteran, in a series of essays he wrote about his experiences in Vietnam, went as far as to title his piece on jungle cuisine, "Army Chow and Other War Atrocities."

Cooks are the Rodney Dangerfield of the U.S. Armed Forces. They just don't get any respect. Or is that changing?

Supplying guns and butter to the troops has always been a military priority. When the bullets stop flying, hot chow and plenty of it, had better be available for the troops. Certainly, even the most particular private knows that when it comes to combat chow, he has it made these days. Since the first club-wielding caveman's belly growled in hunger, military leaders have known that keeping the stomachs of their fighting men full is as important to the GIs as the guns they tote. From the time the Continental Congress of 1775 established the first formal military food program, America has fielded the world's best-fed fighting forces.

Well, usually.

General George Washington's troops shivering on the banks of the Potomac were lucky to chow down on a half ration of cold, watery gruel between skirmishes with the Redcoats. And hunger didn't discriminate during the American Civil War--both sides yearned for more bullets and bread. Many thought the latter could substitute for the former. Soldiers slinging hash in the Civil War and even later were part-time cooks, amateurs who never gave a pre-war thought to the menial task of cooking. That was Mom's job. It wasn't always the cooks' fault, however. Food supplies were limited, and they could only serve what the quartermaster provided.

Take the ubiquitous hardtack. Please.

North and South alike regarded the nearly inedible, nearly indestructible half-inch thick cracker with a perverse fondness. In his book, A Taste for War: The Culinary History of the Blue and Gray (published in 2003 by Stackpole Books) William C. Davis described hardtack as "too hard to chew, too small for shoeing mules, and too big to use as bullets." One private assured his friends that "we live on crackers so hard that if we had of loaded our guns with them we could of killed [the enemy] in a hurry." Davis also writes of another soldier who was astonished to bite into something soft when attacking his hardtack. Asked if it was a worm, he incredulously replied, "No by G-d, it was a ten penny nail!"

Not a laughing matter, according to historian Steven Anders, is that 600,000 men died in the Civil War. Two-thirds were non-combat fatalities and an uncounted number of these deaths were food related.

The quality and consistency of combat cuisine improved slowly. It wasn't until 1896 that the Commissary General of the U.S. Subsistence Department issued an official cookbook. By 1941, military cooks prepared their meals with standard recipes that met strict nutritional requirements. Cooks today can choose from more than 1300 recipes prepared by the Armed Forces Recipe Service. The emphasis is on less fat and sodium with more complex carbohydrates and fiber. There are few Atkins dieters in Iraqi foxholes, however, because modern military fare usually ranges from 1200-1500 calories per meal. Warriors are expected to burn them off.

Today's military cooks do much more than sling hash at famished GIs and slop cold SOS on dirty plates. They are properly trained professionals who know that a well-trained cook is a key to combat readiness. Marine Master Sergeant James Starks is a 21-year food service veteran who was deployed to Iraq for six months last year. Regimental mess chief for the 11th Marine Regiment artillery unit, Starks was responsible for feeding his headquarters unit during a 20-day ground movement from northern Kuwait to Baghdad. Now based at Camp Pendleton, Calif., he's proud of his role in the war effort.

"I know our job is vitally important," Starks said, "because Napoleon was right. Armies really do march on their stomachs. Our guys usually ate MREs (Meals, Ready to Eat) when we were moving, but I set up our kitchen tents after we reached Baghdad. I had a choice of 14 dinner menus and seven breakfast menus--the favorite was chicken breasts with dressing and mashed potatoes." He added that Marine meals have changed considerably during his two decades of feeding the troops. "The technology has improved, the quality is better and we now have the ability to deliver meals faster than ever before."

But does he get any respect? "In a peacetime environment, the troops tend to forget our importance," Starks admitted, "but during a war there's a renewed vigor and enthusiasm for the food service community." Like a true Marine, he added, "Food is a vital component for sustainment in battle, but Marines really fight on heart."

Starks pointed out that all Marines are weapons-qualified Marines first, cooks second. One of his troops, Corporal Johnny Ortega, had to drop his spatula and pick up his M-16 several times during his unit's movement into Baghdad.

"We were tasked with providing local security and it got to be very interesting at times," Ortega said. "We had several engagements with the enemy along the way and we had to learn as we went, but I think we did a pretty good job. I'd be in combat during the day and serve my fellow Marines at night. I know the guys like the hot chow," he continued. "MREs have improved, but they can't compare to our hot meals."

Air Force Technical Sergeant David Goldbach is a shift leader and one of 26 cooks who feed about 1500 Army and Air Force troops around the clock near Baghdad International Airport. He also served in Desert Storm. In a telephone interview from Iraq, Goldbach compared the two conflicts from a food service standpoint.

"The biggest difference is that the technology has vastly improved," he said. "In Desert Storm, we didn't have mess tents and we ate our meals sitting on the ground. We didn't have electricity or gas and we washed dishes in trashcans. Things are different here. Actually, it's pretty modern considering that we're in field conditions. It's as close to a home environment as we can make it."

Goldbach's "customers" eat their meals in two tents, the largest measuring about 80'x 20'. Included in the modern kitchen deployment kit are electric lights, lightweight portable benches and heating or air conditioning when needed. No longer are exhausted GIs longer served mystery meat, and easily recognizable American brand names make the troops feel more at home. It's not the corner hamburger joint, but Goldbach said he doesn't hear many gripes.

"I expected to have more complaints than we get, so I guess we're on the right track," he said. "We still hear a few gripes, but if it wasn't for our food the troops wouldn't be happy very long. I'm proud to have had a major impact on their morale."

So if these Emeril Lagasses in chevrons are so good, what about the scrawny Air Force NCO who lost 26 pounds in four months? As it turns out, he was suffering from an intestinal disorder that didn't have anything to do with the chow.