This story contains ample swearing through dialogue, details and allusions to death and violence. This story is based on real events but is purely fictional and should not be taken seriously. I take the events mentioned during this story 100% seriously and have the full respect for the heroes who have fallen during war. Reader discretion is advised.

March 9th, 1965 at 4:59 am, all the brothers are lined up outside the capital of the USS Ranger, awaiting for the General's orders. Right when Navy's watch hit 5, the General slammed opened the door expecting the brothers to be there, and was pleased at the sight. "You boys are lucky, even honored, to do such a task as to swab this fair lady's deck for the next week, and if you're on good behavior I might just let you serve as Rear Admiral Miller's personal butler you lucky sons-of-bitches!" The brothers stood like statues saluting the General, and behind him came the aforementioned Rear Admiral Henry L. Miller. "You boys will start off with dusting the whole deck first. It should be relatively easy compared to what we have for you later. Your supplies, bunks and latrines are on the 3rd deck. Food will be served every eight hours and you'll be working from 500G to 2200G. Any complaints about the Chef's food will be met with a meat cleaver and one of your fingers, so it's advised that you just don't. I'll be watching from the nest uptop and will announce when I've deemed your work satisfactory and have you move on to the next job. Oh, and for a butler, any of you know how to make good Earl Gray tea? You might get that special privilege if I like what you make." The brothers turned to Crack, who was an aficionado when it came to Earl Gray. "Sir, if I may-" requested Crack as to accept the role. "You may Private." permitted Miller. "Sir, I believe I am the most experienced when it comes to making tea and request a chance to prove it to you, Sir." "All right Private, I'll allow you the honor to make me a cup of Earl Grey tea, but be warned, I'll make you drink out of a bucket of dirty water after washing the floor if I don't like it." stated Miller motioning Crack to follow him. "Yes Sir!"

Miller and Crack left to kitchen as the others went to get their cleaning supplies. They only needed to sweep the deck which isn't that bad. The sun hadn't hit so they weren't roasting alive just yet. Not until around 7am was the sun in full blast. They were almost done with the angled deck yet were already steaming. Navy took Jig's broom and started duel brooming to get it done as fast as possible. About ten minutes after they finished, Navy was about ready to have a heatstroke. He looked over the edge and was about ready to jump in for a quick swim, but the brothers weren't allowed to leave the vessel or else then they'll be court martialed for abandoning their post. Johnny, Jig and Will were dragging Navy away from the edge with all their might. "Don't worry guys, just a quick swim, no one would notice..." said Navy, obviously delirious from dehydration. "Navy, we'll get in big trouble if you so happen to step a foot over the edge, you can't leave!" tried Will, but with no response from Navy. "I got it... Will, full nelson, Johnny go for his left leg, I'll get the right." said Jig pulling Navy down. They did so and managed to lift Navy off his feet. He squirmed and wiggled but they already had him immobilized. They ran to the door, opened it and threw Navy into the shade of the inside.

After not moving for a few seconds, Navy regained consciousness and realized what had just happened. "I guess I have to thank you for saving me-" Navy says, getting back on his feet and brushing off the dust "but if you boys tried that again I'll put the three of you in a headlock so tight you'll be tasting your adam's apple." "Which would of been nothing, compared to what would've happened if you jumped off that deck." came a voice above them. It belonged to Miller, who came to check up on them. "I would've tied you to the stern of the boat and used your head to hold on the brake strings for my planes."

He was coming down to give them their next orders before noticing the commotion. "I believe you've finished the deck, you'll get a ten minute break for grub and then it's to washing the planes." continued Miller. "Sir, what happened to Crack? It's been two hours and he didn't join us." said Will. "Private Crack? He's down in the kitchen making your food." replied Miller pointing down the stairs. "Our food!?" stated the brothers in unison. "You mean to say that he's making our food?" asked Johnny, showing signs of fear. "Is that an issue Private?" "Permission to speak freely Rear Admiral Miller?" requested Navy. "Permission granted, Staff Sergeant." replied Miller, with some confusion on the matter. "Sir, Crack could choke any veteran sailor with his atrocities to the culinary arts. He can make tea like a champ but that's all he's good for in terms of food." Crack was notorious for making really bad food, he'd either undercook, forget to toss salads or forget to clean the pans he uses. He's an endangerment to the whole ship and her crew. "What exactly was he tasked with making, Rear Admiral?" asked Jig. "I believe about fifteen slices of french toast, bowl full of sausages and bacon." "We're doomed" "Shall we abandon ship?" "Women and children last" "Where's the life preservers?". The brothers were fearing for their lives, they knew their time on earth was not for long. "You're all overreacting. I'm sure Private Crack will make an adequate meal for your hard work. Now go into the kitchen and eat, you're wasting precious daylight. That's an order." Miller hadn't yet understood he was sending the brothers to an early grave.

"Oh, there you all are. Come sit down, breakfast is about to be made. Hope you all like french toast." Crack seemed enthralled with his cooking that he didn't even notice the entire stove was a mess. "Crack, is the bacon burning?" asked Johnny. "Hmm? Nah they're fine. They need that extra crunch." "What about the sausages?" asked Jig. "Cooking to perfection, you could practically taste the meat by the smell alone." "And where's our french toast?" asked Navy. "In the toaster, duh." "WHAT!" yelled the brothers. Will followed up with "You don't actually toast french toast, you need a burner and batter. Where did you even get the batter anyways?" "Don't worry, I made it myself, turns out there's a recipe book in here. I was surprised too, turns out making batter for french toast is easy." "Hold on, you actually made the batter? That requires a lot of materials that I can't believe are actually on a ship." "Well I found the alcohol, the jars are around and apparently the Chef had vanilla sticks on hand. I let them ferment for an hour and then prepared the batter with other basic materials." "You know vanilla takes around eight weeks to properly ferment? You just made alcohol with a hint of vanilla bean." noted Will. "I shook it up for around ten minutes, so it sped up the process." replied Crack. "BUT THAT'S NOT HOW IT WORKS!" yelled Will. "Oh shush. Sit down and get ready to eat."

Around two minutes later Crack came in with four plates. "Alright fellas, let's eat." What was on the table could be described as; burnt cardboard, plump, red caterpillars and very small pieces of what must of been the bacon, blacker than the darkest night. This was their true punishment, not for their misdemeanors in their final days, but this, this is the monument to all their sins. Crack brought over some cups, and a liter of O.J. "Well atleast we have something to wash it all down" stated Johnny. "Hmm, how much you wanna bet…" said Jig under his breath. The brothers looked at him in confusion, where as Jig proceeded to look at the bottom of the liter of O.J. " Zero one, zero one, one nine six zero..." "What code you speakin there boy?" said Navy. "January 1st, 1960. This expired more than five years ago." replied Jig. They all look at the liter as if it came alive, and with how old it is, there was probably something in there too. "Are you trying to make an assassination attempt on the Knights of the Round Table, Sir Crack?" stated Will, standing up and looking right at Crack. "Oh, those expiration dates are a bunch of baloney. They're just there to make you waste it all to buy more quicker. This stuff can last for years after 'expiration'" replied Crack, using his fingers to make quotations when he said expiration. "Stop complaining and eat, there are other people waiting to be served you know? Plus there's still work to be done, right?"

After saying their prayers, the brothers picked up their utensils, and looked at their last supper. They all simultaneously stuck their knives into the toasted toast, and an unironic 'Crack' could be heard at each motion of the knives. Navy was the first one to get a piece through the fork, followed by everyone else. They all slowly put the toast towards their mouths, ready to accept their fate, until.. "Everyone, come quick! They're sending in more Marines into Da Nang! It's on the radio." yelled one of the crew members from atop the stairs before the kitchen. "Oh what a shame for this food to go to waste, guess we'll have to eat another time" "Yeah this is gotta be important, let's go" etc. The brothers thought of something to say just to get up and go, and they were all out of there and in the capital head before the informing crew member even had a chance to turn around.

"This is Brigadier General Frederick J. Karch of the 9th Marine Expeditionary Brigade. As of right now we are currently sending over 3,000 Marines to land on Da Nang. The Marines have begun disembarking from the USS Henrico, Union, and Vancouver along with tanks from the 3rd Marine Tank Battalion. The weather seems to be acting strange. I sense a bad season of weather abroad. The locals are greeting our soldiers at the beach head as of now, but they all know that any one of them could make an attempt on their life. I as well, will soon disembark onto the beach. The Brigadier General Frederick J. Karch, signing off. "

"So the Marines finally landed?" "About fucking time, took em long enough" "They're still in South Vietnam, do they plan on winning by throwing rocks at the trees in the North?" "They're all just glory dogs, we already have the South secured, I don't know they don't just storm the capital" "Fool, this isn't an actual war involving the U.S, we're just supplying troops. The United Nations are the ones trying to 'keep the peace'"

Mixed conversations are brewing among the crew, however the brothers are just reveling in the fact the Marines just saved their lives, that'll be a first. "Alright, I was worried that something like this might happen…" said Navy. "What, the Marines landing?" replied Jig. "What? No. Us having to skip breakfast. I snagged a few C-Rations, and I also have a contact that'll be sending us… I guess a newer version of rations now being tested." "You tellin me they're trying to make C-Rations better? That's a good one." added Jig, scoffing at the idea. "Well, for your information, it is basically a C-Ration, however it doesn't weigh an unnecessary 5lbs, now half that weight. It also apparently comes with a mini stove and some C4." "So 'now' it is designed to kill us?" "The C4 in it is less than a square inch, not enough to do the big explosion, rather a really good flame" "Well, if and when it does kill us, no 'Ham and Motherfuckers' right?" "No, these are type 3s that don't have those omens. We'd be getting-" Navy then proceeded to pull out a small piece of paper "Beef in Spiced Sauce, Boned Chicken or Turkey, Chicken with Noodles in Broth, or Pork Steak Cooked in Juices. Four Cookies and a packet of Cocoa powder. And white bread." "I'll trade anyone my meal, plus the cookies and cocoa if they get the noodles in broth" stated Jig.

Miller was busy with relaying information from Karch, the General was taking part in his routine 'tactical' napping, and now the brothers are taking this chance to try those meals. Before they went down the stairs, Jig peeked down to see if Crack, and his monstrosities, were still present. "Coast is clear…" they begin descending the stairs, which is very poorly lit up, since the sun was still towards the west. "You hear that?" said Jig, holding position. The sound of footsteps on metal could be heard. "Enemy combatant, get down!" The brothers flatten up against the wall, now engulfed by the shadow of the ship. "Stay in the shadows". It was non other than Crack, he went towards the opening of the stairs, yet didn't look at them. He didn't notice his brothers, and went back to whatever he was doing. "That was a close one" said Jig. They continued downstairs to their bunk rooms.

There were five packages on the floor in front of Navy's bed, sealed with tape and stamped all over. "Those must be the MCIs, Meal, Combat, Individual. The boxes are a lot bigger than I was told, I think there's a serving for four in each. Do the math, and we got enough for the five of us to last four meals each." Navy moved over to the boxes to inspect them. "Each box is about 25 lbs, so don't drop them or you'll make a really loud noise." The floor of their room was metal, smooth with no sharp edges, but cold and rusted in the corners. "We can't waste em all the first few days, we need to make them last to the end of the week, and most importantly we cannot tell anyone about them. Someone'll either blackmail us or just rat us out for having this stuff. But Satan be damned before I go all week only on Crack's cooking." "Agreed, we'll tell Crack later about them, but for now let's not eat em just yet. You still got the C-Rations right?" said Will. "Yeah, I doubt anyone would mind if we had these around. If they're not willing to eat them then they're not willing to tell anyone about them." Navy procured five C-Rations himself, and in the large box there were five more. "These aren't enough for regular meals, so we'll still have to have some of Crack's cooking, I believe the least fuck-upable meal for Crack would be lunch. I have an idea, let's eat one set of C-Rations today, and give Crack one as a sort of apology for leaving his 'breakfast' before eating" said Jig, grabbing one extra C-Ration. "All right, let's do this"

Few minutes after, the brothers find Crack, still in the kitchen area, but there's no more smell of burnt food so he must not of been cooking. "Crack-" Jig yelled, "We got something for you." Jig came over with the C-Ration and handed it to Crack. "Since we couldn't eat your breakfast, we'd thought it be a good idea to instead start adjusting our stomachs to rations now before we go back into action. As good as your cooking might be, it's pretty likely are stomachs will get spoiled and not be able to adapt well enough when the time comes." "Oh, I see where you're coming from. Shame, I was really hoping to be the next Top Chef, but I guess that's not my place…" replied Crack with a sigh. "O.K how about this, I show you how to work with the bare minimum. We don't have enough to last us the whole week, so we'll still rely on your cooking to keep us fed, but just let me take the lead" said Will. "Alright then, let's eat!" replied Crack.

The brothers are now seated at a table, with five things of C-Rations in front of them. "Hey Navy, which types of C-Rations did you get?" asked Johnny, now that everyone realizes there's no distinct way of telling the difference since Navy didn't grab the menu identifier. "I thought they said it on the top of the box, but every side is blank. And I didn't check to see what I was grabbing, there was just a miscellaneous pile and I grabbed a few and mailed some more." Can rations usually have some label on them, but these ones had them scraped off. There was no way of telling which one was which. "So you're telling me any one of these could have any variations of 'Motherfuckers' in them? And we have no way of telling." A sailor walked by the kitchen and noticed the boys looking at their rations. He came over to inspect and understood their pause. "When you boys have been in the military as long as I have, you know which cases are edible and which are poison." the sailor looks closely at each of the rations, and smirks. "Not all of you have ones with Motherfuckers, but one of you does. Actually, all but one of you has something particularly decent, have fun trying to figure out which is which." the sailor said now walking away. "So one of us has the thing that doesn't belong here, we could either determine which is which for future reference or just go in blind" said Will. "Let's inspect them first for any major differences" replied Johnny.

The brothers pushed the rations towards the center of the table and inspected them under the light before opening them. They shook each of their cans to hear what was inside. Crack's sounded like something with a liquid inside it. Johnny's, Jig and Will had something solid but sounded squishy, and Navy had something that sounded like slosh. "I guess I have some sort of stew in mine" said Crack. "We probably got something without any particular liquids, but we definitely have solids" said Johnny. "Then that must mean... " Navy looked at his can as if it was trying to kill him. "Well, no point in waiting, let's open them and see" said Will.

Crack opened first, revealing Beef stew and Vegetables. "Not bad"

Johnny opened next, revealing Chicken and Vegetables. "O.K"

Then Will, with Chopped ham, egg and potatoes. "Decent"

Jig was lucky, revealing Meat and Noodles. "Aw hell yeah"

Then Navy, who was left with the ham and lima beans. "God help me"

"Well Navy, 's been nice knowing you" "Don't fret… we'll carry that weight" "We'll never forget you". Goodbyes were said to Navy as he blankly stared into his last meal. The others began digging into theirs before Navy could try to talk them into giving him some of theres. "Man mode" whispered Navy. He then began drilling into the can with nothing but a spork and his mouth, and by the time the others noticed he was already half way through. In the ham and lima beans there was a mash filling which allowed the food to go down smoother. Navy attempted not to chew and essentially threw the food down his gullet. When he was almost done he threw away the spoon and slammed the can right above his mouth, launching the remnants down beyond terminal velocity. Imagine Popeye and his spinach, but with something more lethal. He swallowed it all with one huge lump in his throat. He slammed the can back onto the table with nothing but remnant mash left inside, along with some around his lips. He looked at everyone, who stopped eating their meal to watch the spectacle. With heavy breathing, Navy said "Git...good... kids" and then passed out. Not due to the food ironically, but since he forgot to breath along the way.

A few hours have passed. The brothers carried Navy to their room, putting him on the solo bunk in the middle towards the back. The others would have to sleep on double stacked bunks. At first, they waited around ten minutes to see if he'll wake up, but Miller needed more jobs to be done, so they rotated shifts with one person with Navy and the others working. After the third hour, Johnny went to check up on Navy who was already awake. "What happened to me? Where am I?" Navy started saying not yet realizing Johnny was in the room. "Take it slow, bro. You just manmoded one of the most dangerous things the military can offer its troops. The United Nations would accuse us for biological warfare if we tried to use that against our enemies." Johnny was making sure Navy wouldn't hit himself into anything before he regained full consciousness. "Oh right… the Beans and Motherfuckers… God have I never regretted anything so fast… the last thing I remember was looking into an empty can of that stuff." "Well you definitely put the awe in Awesome. Most men wouldn't do that for a dare, let alone for lunch. I also had the chance to find a pamphlet of the nutritional value of that stuff, a lot of protein and the mash has very few calories. In reality, that can would be nothing more than a snack, and I'd advise eating some fiber or you're gonna have a bad time. And lastly, you passed out from suffocating yourself, you're lucky you passed out when it all went down or we might not be talking right now. The Doctor ordered no heavy lifting or extensive exercises like running until after you fall asleep normally. That brain in there needs as much oxygen it can get, no hyper ventilating or you'll damage your brain. You can do non strenuous chores but nothing more." "Thanks Doc, also how long has it been?" "Around three hours." "Then I might as well get back to work. What's the Admiral having us do today?" "Swabbing the 2nd floor, which was ordered about an hour ago so we should be doing something else now. Come on, we can't keep them waiting." "Yeah, let's go." Johnny lifted Navy off the bed and watched to see if he's able to move, which he passed with flying colors.

"So there's the suicidal maniac, had a nice nap?" Jig had to crawl into spaces the others couldn't reach and clean all forms of gunk and debris. "Let it go Jig, Navy just made Popeye look like baby with that stunt, give him some credit." Will said before Jig could continue. "You two weren't the ones who had to do the heavy lifting, do you know how much those storage boxes weigh? Because I don't, since I have no idea what's in them!" Crack intervened. "Well then you'd better get used to it because Navy won't be lifting anything he can't carry in one hand until he gets a good night's sleep." replied Johnny. "And why does he get special treatment?" inquired Jig. "Doctors orders boy scouts, so quit your whining and GET BACK TO WORK!" This came from General Westmoreland who was preparing to leave before he heard the commotion. The last thing he wanted to hear was complaining.

As stated, a filler part. This was the last one I finished before I stopped making more so the next time you see a new chapter may not be for a while. I appreciate the solid 40+ views and I'd appreciate it if you could share this with others. I think I may do just one more filler episode and then we'll get back into the action. And as always, stay tuned for the next chapter.