Sopakco repack “MRE”s were not what I expected.


I picked up some cases of Sopakco’s MREs. I’m not overly thrilled with them. They are repacks, and were $2.50 each shipped.

Now I am fine with repacks, but they changed the nutritional content of these. The Meals Ready to Eat (MRE) in the military are about 1200 calories and contain a main meal, side dish, snack, beverage mix, along with a heater and accessory pack. The accessory pack would have a spoon, toilet paper, matches, coffee mix, creamer powder, salt, sugar, red pepper or Tabasco sauce, a moist towelette, and gum.

These Sopakco “MRE” packages contain a main meal, heater, crackers, 2 jellies or jams, a toaster pastry, and candy along with a packaged spoon with napkin and salt and pepper. These meals run about 1000 calories, and much of that comes from the candy and sugar packed jams and jellies.

For $2.50 each, the Sopakco MRE is not a bad deal. But these meal combinations are far from the “fortified with nutrients” balanced meals of a full and proper MRE.

Lastly, and possibly most annoying, is that the cases are not proper menus. I saw a review on Amazon where someone claimed that they received a box where the entire box of 14 meals were all the same meal. Others reported getting 3-6 of the same meal in a box.


  1. Funny story about something like that…

    I had to borrow a driver from our other squad (we’d gone down to two), and while we were on detached duty, we had the other squad pick up food and other stuff for us during an exercise. All was well right up until the moment we opened up the still-sealed (or, so we thought…) cases of MREs we had for the three days we were to be detached. Every single meal was the dreaded and loathed Chicken a la King.

    Which my borrowed driver hated with particular passion. As in, he would not eat them. He flatly refused to eat anything that had come in contact with Chicken a la King, so for all practical purposes, he went that three days eating what little pogey bait we had, or trying to trade with the Infantry guys we were supporting–Who were equally contemptuous of the Chicken a la King. Whole time, he’s seething, talking to himself, muttering darkly about the assholes in his squad. I had no idea what sort of rage was building up in him.

    Came the day, we went “home” to our platoon. We go driving up to the bivouac site, pull in next to the the other squad. Most of them are bagged out, sleeping. I get out to go talk to the platoon leader and platoon sergeant, who’re on the other side of the sleeping squad.

    I’m standing there, next to the PL’s truck, and all hell breaks loose next to us. My borrowed driver is pulling people off the other squad’s truck, and beating the holy hell out of all of them. And, I’m talking not a minor bit of play-fighting–He’s punching the hell out of these guys, taking his entire squad on at once. They were losing, badly. Seven-on-one action, and he’s got the strength of the righteous, delivering vengeance with his fists.

    Their squad leader, the PL, the platoon sergeant and I are standing there watching this happen, and I’m like “Don’t you think we ought to stop this…?” All three of the other leaders are like “No, they’ve got it coming… He won’t actually kill any of them… I don’t think, anyway…”. End of it all, there were multiple black eyes, loose teeth, and a lot of severe bruising. Their squad leader was like “Yeah, I told ’em not to, but they did it anyway, behind my back… I found out about it a day after you guys left… Told ’em it was coming; you don’t f**k with SPC X’s chow… You just… Don’t.”.

    His squad being full of ‘cruits, well… Yeah. They had to learn the hard way that RHIP and tenure have their privileges, even among the lower enlisted. Screw around with the Spec-4 Mafia at your own risk.

    Oh, and I had a permanent driver. He refused to go back to his old squad. Rest of the time he was there, it was easy to get those ‘cruits to fly right, because you’d just have to casually mention that the alternative to them doing the right thing was us putting that Specialist in charge of them. Fear of God, that, right there…

  2. I heard a story eons ago during Gulf War I that the various allied troops would barter meals, and that an exchange rate had developed. Supposedly the French MREs had the best exchange rate, trading at something like 1:10 for American MREs.

  3. Because it tasted like fermented dung and they didn’t include nearly enough Tabasco sauce to kill the flavor. oh and it looked like it’d been digested and puked back into the package.

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