Food for Thought
Researcher Kathy-Lynn Evangelos, program integrator of Combat Feeding Directorate and AMC member, hikes closer to home, in the White Mountains. For her day trips, she packs gorp and Power Bars, not the freeze-dried foods, ready-to-eat meals (called MREs), or tube foods (served to high-altitude pilots) that her program develops and perfects.
She gives a rundown on the history of modern military fare—from the canned goods developed for 19th-century warfare to the K- and C-rations familiar to everyone who served in World War II (beans often a key component). Her program’s goal, she says, is always to make eating as pleasant as possible in extreme situations.

In a room across from a gigantic test kitchen, she pulls out a polyethylene envelope of chicken and noodles with a smaller separate packet inside containing magnesium, iron, and sodium. I pour a quarter cup of water into that smaller packet, and—poof—steam! In minutes, a hot meal. No flame needed.

In the Army such packets are called “flameless ration heaters.” They can occasionally be found under different brand names at sporting goods stores, I later learn, but they are not too popular with hikers because their packaging is still a bit bulky. But I consider what a godsend a quick hot meal like this would be for someone in an emergency.

Back to the Future
Toward the end of my tour, I learn something else that really resonates.

“We are looking again at wool,” says Scott Gaumont, project engineer with the Individual Systems and Equipment Team.

Wool? That old standby, the material that saved my neck at age 11 in Center Swamp, the material that 25 years ago lost serious ground to the synthetic fibers that dry and pack so easily?

A wool counter-attack?

Gaumont, a 35-year-old skier, has personal as well as professional reasons to know his textiles. He says that new manufacturing processes are making wool production more economical and more environmentally friendly. He adds that the National Wool Council and the Department of Agriculture have been promoting it.

Wool has always been a fine fabric in cold, says Gaumont. “Wool has a love-hate relationship with water. …The outer layer hates water; the inner layer loves it–absorbing up to 20 percent of its weight in water.” But the moisture still is kept from the skin.

“It’s similar to a wetsuit effect,” he says.

Gaumont also mentions that wool won’t melt like some synthetic (petroleum-based) fibers when exposed to high heat, which is always possible in a war zone.

As he discusses wool, he displays samples of cold-weather military apparel: polyester undergarments and shirts, polyester fleece, and water-breathable shells laminated in PTFE (polytetrafluoroethylene, the material used in Gore-Tex). “The membranes are too small for raindrops to enter, but large enough for moisture to escape,” he says.

It’s all stuff I took on my last adventure, as a crew member on a sailing trip last summer from Maine to the Azores. During cold, damp night watches, the inner synthetic layers managed to “wick away” the moisture just as their labels promised; a heavy wool sweater and Navy watch cap (bought at a surplus store) kept in the warmth; and a nylon windbreaker jacket and pants kept the wind at bay.

It all worked together just as it was supposed to, a good thing because there would be no campfires to stand around this time. During a gale, when cooking was impossible, we dined on “sail mix” (which those on land might call trail mix) and cold leftover macaroni and cheese. We didn’t go hungry, but we certainly would have welcomed a hot meal from Natick’s “flameless ration heaters.”

Dirk Van Susteren is a freelance writer from Calais, Vt.

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