encore Kitchen Fiasco

An Air Force captain staying temporarily in an apartment reserved for generals decides to break the lodging rules and prepare for himself an “explosive” meal.

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One summer in the mid-1980s, my Missouri Air National Guard unit was pulling two weeks of training at Elmen- dorf AFB, Alaska. Because of a lodging snafu, rooms were available for all of the officers except for the lowest-ranking one — me. I was given permission to stay in an apartment reserved for visiting generals, but if one showed up, I would have only minutes to vacate. “Sleep on top of the bed covers,” cau- tioned the lodging clerk. “Don’t touch any- thing, and don’t use the kitchen.” Back then, officers were not allowed to eat in the dining facility; we could buy meals at the PAX terminal, at a couple of fast-food restaurants on base, or at the bowling alley. Being a young captain and wanting to save as much per diem as pos- sible, I decided to take a chance on fixing a few quick meals in the apartment. I head- ed to the commissary to buy supplies. Back at the apartment, I began fixing a sumptuous meal of bean soup with a side of peanut butter sandwich. I placed the sandwich on the counter near the stove and began heating the bean soup in a glass bowl on one of the burners. The next few minutes are a blur. I recall a loud “bang!” followed by bean soup drip- ping from the ceiling. Rivulets of soups began flowing down through the burner to the inner workings of the stove. I glanced toward my sandwich, which had morphed into a porcupine, of sorts, with shards of glass sticking out of it.

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Though I had seen my wife use glass for cooking many times before, I never realized she used special, heat-resistant glass! My nightmare got worse. Suddenly,

there was a knock on the door directly be- hind me. It’s a general, I gasped internally, and I wasn’t supposed to touch anything! Resigned to the fact that my Air Force

career was over, I opened the door slightly, hoping to block the view of the carnage behind me. It was my commander, who peered around me and saw the destruction of the kitchen. “What the hell have you done?” he yelled. Fortunately, my commander also was my good friend and he helped me clean up the mess.

After that, I replaced the glass bowl and halt- ed all culinary pursuits. No general showed up for the remainder of my time there, and I spent a lot more of my precious per diem on several lunches for my commander.

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— Lyle Farquhar is a retired Air Force lieuten- ant colonel. He is a Life Member of MOAA and a member of the Heart of America (Mo.) Chapter. He lives in Platte City, Mo. For submission infor- mation, see page 6.

Tell Your Story Submit your humorous true stories (approximate- ly 450 words) of service- related experiences by email to encore@moaa .org or by mail to Encore Editor, 201 N. Washington St., Alexandria, VA 22314. All submissions will be considered for publication.

ILLUSTRATION: LT. COL. LYLE FARQUHAR, USAF (RET)