The life of an MRE entrée is not an easy one. I sat, for 10 years in a dark, compressed, and often cold bag, amongst my brethren (the wheat bread, peanut butter and subsequent jelly packet, and the delicately packed tortillas.) We were brothers, not in blood, but in calories.

Three combat deployments, 2 CST's and a rotation at NTC, and never once had I been opened. The bottom of the box MRE, the "nah give me another one, this shit's ass" entrée that doesn't warrant a second glance from enlisted and officers alike. I worried I would one day never be opened. I longed to see the face of a soldier, exuberantly opening me, and I would serve my purpose: I would fill that empty void in their life. It was my duty, my profession.

Then it happened, I was finally opened to the outside world.

I left the dark domain that was my MRE box, and felt the hand of a soldier hoist me from the box, and I was placed every so gently into his assault pack. "Now" I thought to myself "I am become food, the sustenance of soldiers."

I sat, standing by amongst the mold of the barracks, on a small shelf near his desk, and I waited. Perhaps an early morning, or an unwillingness to suffer at the DFAC or the Commissary would yield my greatest moment: consumption.

Then it happened. At 0320, I felt the bag being lifted from its abode, and opened. The light hit me and nearly blinded me, I'd lived my entire life in darkness. I remember thinking to myself "this... this is what heaven must be like."

I awaited patiently as he began to open each item, individually, then I felt it: the long anticipated tear of my packaging, and the release of my contents via the MRE spoon. The next sensation was the binding of me and the wheat bread, and it happened. I was perfectly placed onto my brother in arms, my comrade, dare I say my friend.

The moment I waited 10 years for came to fruition: the first bite. I was overjoyed, jubilant, and even ecstatic. It was exquisite, my profession, my damned purpose in life was fulfilled, I could be digested happily.

Then the worst imaginable thing happened: SPC Snuffy's face wrinkled with disgust, his lip curled into an awful scowl, and the words that left his lips will never leave my mind, "4 more years of this... then I can ETS." He eventually finished me, following each bite with tears and "why didn't I study more in High School" comments that cut into my stringy being like a knife to the heart.

SPC Snuffy, you drained me of all joy in my life. Chew the gum, it helps with the constipation.