Recall having a Sarn't Major of a slightly religious bent try to get his long winded sycophants to bore us to tears before we could get a crust or two down. One of the blokes seated near the weasel of the moment would wait until head was bowed, hands clasped in front of said weasel and then utter a loud "Amen!" whereupon we fell on the grub.
Funny enough, the weasel element were piss poor soldiers as well and didn't last long.