Sodie POP.

Soda can Russian roulette.

One of the most unbelievable yarns one could hear aboard the bird farm I served on was that you got the kind of Soda you pushed the button for on the vending machine and it was cold. Either of these was so rare on their own that together, I am the only one I know of who experienced them coinciding. The store keepers (SK) did not bother to refill vending machines with the products that matched the buttons. It was a safe game of Russian roulette, you never knew what would come out but one thing was assured, it would always be hot. We would often bet on what we would get. There were 5000 men serving aboard my ship and the few Soda vending machines we had emptied before the cans stored in an uncooled store room had time to cool down. So I was shocked when I pushed the Cherry Coke button and not only was a can of Cherry Coke dispensed, it was cold. Sharing my unaccustomed good fortune, my shipmates thought I was spinning yarns.

Assigned to the O2N2 shop, we produced liquid oxygen and liquid nitogen. One of my shop mates took some copper tubing, drilled holes in it and wrapped it in a helical fashion around a Soda can and added it to a fitting so that we could use it with the liquid nitrogen sample line to quick chill our Sodas. Every so often, the watch in the after, high pressure plant would send our messenger to the vending machine and up to the forward, LP plant to chill our sodas. One would always be over chilled and explode upon opening. That one was always mine.

The first several times, the sailor we sent to chill them was one I had some difficulties with, so I strongly suspected he was doing this on purpose. So I sent a different person to perform this all important task. I got the exploding can again. The person who I assigned this task to apologized telling me that he did not try to freeze any of the cans. Of course, this became the talk of the work center; is someone Faucing with Kitsune or is Mr. Murphy, of Murphy’s Law fame, taking his uncommon interest in K again? This became a regular event that even those off watch would muster in the after plant to witness the results of. Every time, one can would explode and it was always mine.

Fed up and feeling quite isolated at the thought that all my shop mates would join against me, I asked another to relieve me of my watch and I went forward to cool our cans of soda. I carefully timed each can, and did not take care as to which should go to who. The whole of the work center those on and off watch, save the watch in the LP plant, were awaiting my return. I passed out the cans I cooled myself. We opened them one after another, with me going last. If you don’t know the result, you have not been paying attention. POP! Mine exploded, the sound quickly drowned out by uproarious laughter, including my own. What else can one do in such a situation?

While these are not the only such occurrences aboard this ship, my previous tin can nor my service schools, these are representative of them and after all these years, the only two I recall clearly. But they were common enough that shipmate Timmy said to me at one time, “Kitsune, I have always believed a man made his own luck. After serving with you, I now know that is not always true.”.