In April 1865, at the bloody, bitter end of the Civil War, Ebenezer Nelson Gilpin, a Union cavalryman, wrote in his diary, "Everything is chaos here. The suspense is almost unbearable." "We are reduced to quarter rations and no coffee," he continued. "And nobody can soldier without coffee." If war is hell, then for many soldiers throughout American history, it is coffee that has offered some small salvation.
Don’t Wash That Coffee Mug!...a Navy Tradition. "The obsession began over seven years ago. In 2006, I began at the Hampton Roads Naval Museum as a wide-eyed intern, ready to take on the new and fascinating world of naval history. I thought the coffee mess at work was reserved for staff and volunteers only. I did not feel comfortable partaking in the delicious brew until somebody told me I could. When I finally got the green light, I happily brought my coffee mug in the next day, eager to drink from the well all working class souls go to each morning. This was my first experience with “Navy coffee.” It was hot and strong. Very strong. The thickness of it closely resembled crude oil. It tasted both wonderful and terrible at the same time. Your mind can trick you into believing anything. When a supreme pot of joe is brewed, many of the volunteers would call it “Signal Bridge Coffee,” recalling the nostalgia of long nights and many cups consumed".
Dunno about the Navy but, my grandfather drank his coffee out of the same tin cup for several years and my grandmother knew better than to wash it. Other than that, I joined the Army in 67 and went to Fort Polk for basic. I was already acclamated to strong coffee because the name of the game in Louisiana is Chicory or a Chicory blended with "pure" coffee. If anything, the coffee we got in basic was pretty weak in comparison. Bye the bye......love your post!!
How Coffee Fueled the Civil War It was the greatest coffee run in American history. The Ohio boys had been fighting since morning, trapped in the raging battle of Antietam, in September 1862. Suddenly, a 19-year-old William McKinley appeared, under heavy fire, hauling vats of hot coffee. The men held out tin cups, gulped the brew and started firing again. “It was like putting a new regiment in the fight,” their officer recalled. Three decades later, McKinley ran for president in part on this singular act of caffeinated heroism.
My father served in the Pacific during World War II. During that time, he was taken prisoner by the Japanese on a small island. For a time, he said the American soldiers were kept in a pit with a grating over the top of it, like you might have seen in movies. They were freed when the Allies retook the island, and the Red Cross came in shortly after that. One thing that he resented about the Red Cross for his entire life was that the Red Cross offered doughnuts and coffee to the captured Japanese but charged the freed American soldiers. There was the added problem that the Japanese had taken all of their money along with everything else that they had. He hated the Red Cross for that. He swore that the Japanese were eating doughnuts and drinking coffee for free while the American soldiers were left to scrounge from other soldiers who hadn't been robbed by the Japanese.