Elmendorf – Chief and the manikin head + Heesacker running across the field

SHIFT 41…So many memories resurface regarding my time at Elmendorf. There would be the throttle linkage of our VW Dasher breaking on one of those near zero mornings. This one happened to be a Sunday, with no parts available. Using bailing wire I was able to get eventually get home using the wire as a hand throttle. That made for some tricky shifting for my hour drive. Or maybe I could talk about the day when not one, but two fire trucks caught on fire. Did you say the fire truck caught on fire? Oh yes I did. Or there could be the missed opportunity to fly over Mt. Denali while sitting down in the fueling pit of a C135. Instead of those as my focus, on ‘Shift 41’ I’d like to talk about a couple funnies. 

Through the 70’s and much of the 80’s ‘old school’ military command ruled the Fire House. Of course we were military so that tends to make sense. Still, compared to Chiefs of recent years who show more personality toward the crews, the ‘old school’ Chief was pretty much a…’do what I say without question’…type of Chief. Perhaps that is what made this funny so very worth the pain. As with the case of any fire house, we had our share of misfits. I can’t honestly remember what they did this particular time, but their midnight antics had all of us into our training room at Station One. Our Chief did not know everyone, but the missing person happened to be one of those ‘misfits’. Chief was so upset that he decided that he would go and look for Mr. Misfit as the Captain was left behind to give the shift a reprimand. Someone said that the ‘misfit’ was likely in the bunk room sleeping. So Chief made his way into the bunk room which had minimal light on. Not being familiar where the light switches were he must have just began walking through our bunk room cubicles. Next thing…we heard one of the loudest ‘little girl screams’ coming from the ‘old’ dude. One of the ‘misfits’ had placed a CPR manikin head under the covers of one of the bunks. Apparently Chief found the bunk and upon shaking it the head rolled onto the floor. Let’s just say that this was not a recipe for calming the chief. That was one long night listening to this old dude, but boy it was worth it.

Another funny was the time we were dispatched from Station Two to a fire in the dorms across the five acre field that sat in front of the station. Seeing smoke, the Captain was excited to get the engine out of the house leaving firefighter Heesacker behind. After arriving and taking the hydrant we looked up to see Heesacker in the distance turned-out with SCBA, his hands, helmet and straps flying every which way as he ran across the field. Fortunately the smoke was the infamous ‘burnt toast’ because we were all busting a gut to such an extent that there was not going to be any way to work a fire. 

Keeping brevity at the fire house has always been a way to make for an easier shift.