ISK, mid-70s, a dozen or more Nimrods on survival scramble (simulated).
We were fully rationed for 9 hrs+ but instead of launching we taxied around back to dispersal where we sat, doors closed, while the station carried on playing war games (or rather the Rock was applying the Blue Met).
Presently, "Can we open the rations after all we are flying?" NO.
Later, "We're starving, can we open the rations?" You may use the tea, coffee and dried milk. No food.
Elsewhere, "Munch munch . . . "
You are not to eat the rations.
"Munch, munch munch . . . "