Echoes of War: Food, Family, and the Legacy of WWII. Part 1: Soldier’s Sustenance: The WWII Experiences and Food Memories of Ralph D. Skadsen

Image of my grandpa, Ralph, Utah Beach circa 1944 and 1988. Credit

Over the last several years my good friend Ben and I have repeatedly been brought back to conversations around our grandparents, WWII, the Holocaust, and food. While at first, food might seem out of place, it was through these conversations that we realized we both had such vivid memories of our time with them, often centered around food. Food, it seemed, was something that each of our grandparents had specific relationships with and behaviors around. As we delved deeper into this conversation, we saw a connection to their access to food during the war, and their behaviors after. For my grandpa, food was much more than just sustenance. It was a symbol of abundance, comfort, and connection. For Ben’s grandparents, especially his grandpa, meals were structured to fit a strict narrative of what must be present for a meal to be nourishing, reflecting a deep-seated need for food security and abundance. While our meals with our grandparents may have entailed different foods, unsurprising as they did lead very different lives and came from very different backgrounds, it was through our sharing of memories that we began to think about how WWII influenced their behaviors around food throughout the rest of their lives. And in turn, has influenced us.

The story we want to tell here is one of how food was used as a mechanism for control in the war. And how that control cascaded into lingering patterns of behavior and relationships with food that would follow them for the rest of their lives. For my grandpa, food during World War II served as a tool for control and unity, reinforcing American identity and morality, while aiming to sustain soldiers’ health—though often inadequately—amid the stress and unpredictability of war, where irregular meals became a reflection of the chaotic battlefield.

For Ben’s grandparents, food was part of their cultural Hungarian and Jewish heritage. But in the war, the control of food was meant to break the Jewish people of their identity and ties to their heritage. Food was used as a way to provide just enough calories to keep Jewish people alive so that they could continue to work. In other cases, the denial of food was used to force slow and painful starvation. Just one of the many ways Nazis sought to eradicate an entire people.

For both, food in the war played a significant role in shaping the physical and psychological landscape of their journeys and their survival. After the war, the ways they engaged with food, and framed its importance, reflect a type of trauma response and a resiliency that has reverberated through the years, entangling itself into not just their lives, but their children, and their children’s children.

We also saw a need to record these stories and memories as a form of record keeping. Holocaust denial and lack of awareness have increased in recent years, a deeply troubling trend that underscores various issues related to how collective memory is formed and maintained, and how its rewriting can be used by those in positions of power and privilege to continue to oppress and marginalize those not. I read a recent article that stated “23% of Dutch under-40s think the Holocaust was a myth or exaggerated”. Similar statistics have been found for other countries as well, including the United States. These patterns reflect the continued need to document, and share, the stories of the Holocaust and WWII. A fact that is only more apparent when we take into account that as of early 2024, there are only approximately 245,000 Holocaust survivors left. The systemic racism and antisemitism that fueled the Holocaust didn’t vanish with the war’s end, and remembering this history is vital to prevent such atrocities from recurring.

Quick note:

Because this post is already long, I am breaking it into two parts. Part 1, Soldier’s Sustenance: The WWII Experiences and Food Memories of Ralph D. Skadsen. Part 2 will focus on Ben and his grandparents.

On the Front Lines-American Soldiers in WWII

My grandpa, Ralph D. Skadsen, was born in 1923 on a rural farm in South Dakota. His was no stranger to hardships in those early years, perhaps a tale for another day. His life was forever altered in 1942 when at the age of 19 he enlisted in the Navy. Growing up, he would regal me of stories of war. He could paint such vivid scenes, shift between humor and harshness, and speak for minutes or hours, depending on the day. There were stories of tall waves of unfathomable heights that he encountered on the deep seas. Or having to sleep with most of his body underwater to avoid the mosquitos. The terrible tinned meat. But as I grew older the stories shifted away from the humorous ones to ones of loss, death, betrayal, and the violence he found himself surrounded by year after year.

During his many years of service, he went from a Radioman Third Class, to Second Class, to First Class, before being offered (and turning down) the title of Chief Petty Officer. He was a part of numerous military campaigns in the war. By 1943 he had joined the Second Beach Battalion, a precursor to the Navy Seals. This was a specialized unit of the U.S. Navy that played a crucial role during World War II, particularly in amphibious assaults. They were responsible for coordinating the landing of troops, equipment, and supplies on the beaches. They ensured the smooth transition from sea to land, managing the tidal flats and working closely with the Army’s Engineer Special Brigades and Naval Demolition Units. In short, these were the guys among the first ashore who then made sure the rest of the troops and gear could land. As you can imagine, this meant the battalion’s casualty rate during their engagements was relatively high due to their frontline role in coordinating landings under enemy fire.

While in this unit he served in North Africa (at Olan, Nigeria for Operation Torch and then the Tunisia Campaign in Tunis and Bizerte). After Africa they went north to Licata, Silicity (Operation Husky), and then Salerno, Italy (Operation Avalanche). He and his battle-hardened fellow troops were then deployed to Normandy. On June 6, 1944, they landed at H-Hour, Utah Beach, Normandy France (Operation Overlord). While all other soldiers were told to “get off the beach ASAP” to get out of harm’s way as quickly as possible (the enemy had the advantage here), his unit, the 2nd Beach Battalion had the unique and deadly task of remaining on the beach and keeping it operational as long as possible. He was stationed in France until October, though he is not clear in his memoirs as to what they were doing.

From left to right. Rachel, Robert, Jim, Janice, Julia, and Ross. This photo is from our visit to Utah Beach in celebration of the 80th anniversary D-Day.

After D-Day he was deployed to the Pacific Theater, engaging in battles in Leyte, Kerama Rettos (Okinawa), Le Shima, and others. He was set to be a part of a diversionary tactics should Operation Downfall commence.

But his story does not end there. He was sent to Jinsen (now Incheon, South Korea), where he helped rescue the Bataan-Corregidor survivors. He was also part of cleanup efforts, such as mine-clearing in the post-war Pacific operations. Seeing engagement in Teintsin, China, Hong Kong, Japan, and other islands. He was on a ship bringing supplies to Point Barrow, Alaska.

He was finally honorably discharged in 1947, following several hospitalizations, failing mental health, and a desire to be done. He served more than most (the average service was 33 months, he served 52). During his service he was awarded numerous medals, such as the Military Cross from France (note, we are working on learning more about these, so please comment if know!).

Photo of his uniform in the D-Day Experience Museum, Normandy

As a cool side note, his role in the 2nd Beach Battalion was recently included in the amazing book Fighting Our Way Ashore: The 2nd Naval Beach Battalion in WWII, by Michel De Trez and Tyler Elliott. Much of his WWII gear is also memorialized in the D-Day Experience Museum in Normandy.

What The Troops Ate

During World War II, American troops had several types of rations to sustain them in the field:

1. K-Rations (Short-term use):

Contents: Main course (canned meat or cheese), crackers, powdered drink mix, candy, and sometimes cigarettes.
Calories: Around 1,200 per meal.

2. C-Rations (Longer use, also called C-Rats):

Contents: Canned meat (beef stew, frankfurters), canned vegetables or fruit, crackers, canned dessert, powdered drink mix, and sometimes cigarettes.
Calories: Around 3,000 per day.

3. D-Rations (Emergency):

Contents: A chocolate bar designed to provide high calories and withstand extreme conditions.
Calories: Around 600 per bar.

These rations were compact and shelf-stable but often criticized for their monotony and lack of variety. But they were also familiar, foods like canned meats, chocolate pudding, crackers, and cigarettes were also meant to be palatable in their familiarity.

If the chocolate bar stood out, don’t get too excited. They wanted a treat, but also something that was not “too appetizing” so it would be reserved for use only when absolutely needed. In other words, this was not the Hershey chocolate we know today.

“The guide for eating the Ration D, as Hershey’s called it, suggested nibbling on the bar over the course of half an hour, or else letting it dissolve in water as a drink. Each bar delivered a valuable 600 calories or more to armed consumers, who were directed only to eat them as a last resort, to prevent starvation in extraordinary circumstances.

—When Hershey’s Crafted a Special Treat for the Troops | Smithsonian

Food was also something left to be desired. While the military aimed to provide basic nutrition to keep soldiers in fighting shape, the execution often fell short. The monotony was overpowering, and little thought was given to taste and palatability. As my grandpa would later lament -he would never eat tinned meat again even if it killed him.

In addition, soldier’s nutritional needs weren’t always adequately met, impacting their health over time. The stress and unpredictability of war meant that meals were irregular. Soldiers had to adapt, sometimes eating quickly or skipping meals altogether, reflecting the chaotic nature of their daily lives.

But despite these issues, food played a pivotal role in the social landscape and wartime experience. Shared meals of C-rations, helped foster a sense of camaraderie and provided comfort during stressful times. The shared experience of eating together, even if the food wasn’t always ideal, created a kind of unity among soldiers. Additionally, American soldiers often had a sense of pride in the food they brought with them, especially in contrast to what they found in other countries. The food was also a sense of American identity that could be easily contrasted with that of their enemies, thus reinforcing a cultural divide. The food too, was prided on being “high quality”, an idea that often translated to a shared sense that America was more “civilized” than that of their enemies. An idea linked to broader notions of national pride, patriotism, and a sense of cultural exceptionalism.

After the War

The link between poor health outcomes and military service has been well established. Research has shown that service in the military impacts the soldier’s food environment ( the combination of physical, economic, political, and socio-cultural factors that influence people’s food choices and nutritional status). Likewise, food insecurity as a result of food restriction can result in altered food-related behavior such as binge eating, hoarding food, and suffering food cravings. This in turn has led to an increase in obesity for soldiers post-service (see Smith et al. 2009). The demands of war and the conditions in which soldiers fought also have been found to have adverse effects on health and well-being, especially for soldiers with longer deployments. I know I am just scratching the surface here, but there is only so much time in a day.

These ill health effects were something Grandpa was no stranger to. He was overweight for much of the rest of his life, suffered heart attacks and strokes, and eventually was diagnosed as diabetic. He suffered neck pain. Had false teeth from poor dental hygiene. And had skin cancer across much of his face (soldiers did not have access to sunscreen during the war). While it would take much more research to unpack all the variables, both genetic and environmental, that impacted his health, it is clear that many of these maladies have origins in the war, or were at least exacerbated by it (see this article for example). And yet, at the same time, soldiers who faced high levels of combat, such as my grandpa, were found to have general later in life well-being. My grandpa did live many years after the war, passing away in 2016, and is buried in Arlington National Cemetery. I suppose the takeaway is “it is complicated”.

Alright, back to food.

Our family with a spread of some of his favorite foods.

Sadly, he is no longer with us so I cannot ask him how his eating habits changed from pre-war to after. But what I can tell you is that growing up my grandparent’s house was always one of abundance. Sunday dinners were typical Americana meals of meat and potato, served with sides such as butter (frozen) peas, and the occasional raw onion, Grandpa’s favorite. Lunches were deli meats and bologna, or perhaps frozen chicken pot pies (the cheap kind), or Campbell soups. Every meal was accompanied by a glass of milk. Desserts were most often chocolate and ice cream, and always available. The fridge was always stocked. A tin of candies always present on the coffee table. One of his greatest joys was going to the grocer to get donuts on Friday mornings. Meals out were often at Big Boy, Old County Buffet, or perhaps Potbelly. But rarely did they venture outside of American foods, though we did get him to enjoy Chinese food (only Mongolian beef, no spice), he never adopted a taste for diverse foods. Upon reflection, much of these foods go hand in hand with the popularity of frozen foods after the war.

If my description of their meals sounds less than appetizing, for me, they became the epitome of comfort, entangled in my childhood notion of who my grandparents were. The Sunday dinners were a nurturing moment of respite from the busy weeks; where time seemed to slow down. A tradition that centered my time with them. They fostered emotional connection. While it has been many years since we sat down to Sunday dinner, I can still see the hand-embroidered tablecloth, the array of foods on the table, the glass cabinet with the fancy dishes in the background. I can still hear my grandpa’s laughter as he purposely passed dishes in both directions, finding joy in the chaos that ensued. I can still smell the chicken roasting. I can still see Grandpa sneaking me candy under the table, or biting an onion so he could breathe onion breath on my poor Grandma.

I miss those dinners.

In honor of Grandpa, we made my grandma’s chocolate sheet cake. While she never called it by this name, it is essentially a Texas Chocolate Sheet Cake. This was his favorite dessert. With the exception of the one pictured below, he almost always snuck a corner piece before it was served. He had to make sure it tasted good, after all.