Bungee Cord of Death
A practical joke goes very wrong.
This is a true story. The names have been changed to protect the guilty. Any resemblance to any person or persons is purely coincidental, even if they are terrified by the sight of large elastic cords.
I'm writing this story down as it was related to me, in the first person but I want to stress that I am only the narrator and did not take part in any of the happenings.
* * *
I began to plan my revenge after a twenty four hour shift with Sergeant Leeks. For the entire shift he had bored me with his inane banter and drivel, but his lack of communication skills were not the reason that I decided to do him harm. It wasn't his peculiar smell or bathing habits. It was the way he spoke to me.
From the moment he first spoke to me I abhorred him. Always, he took great pains to explain even the simplest things to me, as if I had no concept why breathing or any other mundane thing was necessary. I don't know how I managed to hide my hatred for him as long as I did and have, somehow I did though.
On March 18, 1986 an idea hatched in my mind as I played pool after duty hours. The pool table was in an open bay and needed to be protected from weather. It was covered by a vinyl tarpaulin which was secured with a very large bungee cord. Rumor had it that the cord had something to do with a drag parachute on a B-52. In typical military fashion the cord had been "liberated" and put to a new use that it was never intended for, and was entirely too strong for. It surprises me that no one thought of the potential before.
The bungee cord was perhaps seventy five feet long and wrapped several times around the pool table. Large metal hooks had been made for it so it secured to itself.
I lit up a cigarette and stared at the cord that was coiled up neatly under the table. Then without real thought I picked up the cord and walked to the most distant bay in the building. Along the way I passed several large trucks and construction features which were going to play key roles in my decision to make Sergeant Leeks understand just how intelligent I was.
Some movie which I had seen before and not liked was playing in the day room and all the shift except me was watching it intently. They would be occupied for at least an hour, which I knew was time enough for my plan.
I hooked the cord around a building support near a command vehicle and then wrapped the cord once around another pillar. I ran the cord around a corner and then around the front of a large truck. A twenty ton come-along allowed me to stretch the cord much tighter then I otherwise could have. I secured the end of the cord with a bit of rope from an eye bolt which was used for stringing a volley ball net when weather would let us play outside. Like the bungee cord and the come-along it was much stronger than it needed to be.
The cord hummed like a giant guitar string. Everything was in place, all I needed was Sergeant Leeks. A radio call to dispatch informed the operator that Leeks had a phone call in the admin area. It only took a moment for the PA system to summon Leeks to the offices.
As he stepped out the door I hooked the cord into his belt and cut the rope.
In retrospect I now realize that I had mad several miscalculations. What I had expected to happen, was that Sgt. Leeks would be pulled suddenly along in a humorous and humbling fashion that would cause him new found respect for me. I figured that I would be able to lord the prank over him for the rest of our tour and that he would leave me alone. But that's not what happened.
I should have known from the amount of force that I had to use to wind the come-along that it was more than what was necessary for my prank. Again in hindsight I should have seen the way it stretched the rope and known that it was far to powerful. The last sign was the way that concrete flaked away around the lag bolt. Maybe I did notice, but I can tell you that even at a subconscious level I did not expect what happened because, when I cut the rope, Sergeant Bernard Leeks of San Francisco disappeared.
In cartoon fashion, his hat and shoes remained. Before I had time to mouth a silent profanity, the silence of a nighttime flight line was shattered by the meaty crash of a body striking a closed bay door at near supersonic speed.
I only had enough time to turn my head and watch as Sgt. Leeks was snatched away again at ninety degrees and while he might have been going slower than he had been, when I had cut the rope, he was still nearly invisible when he passed the big truck and slammed into the concrete wall.
There was a flash of green fatigue pants and a white t-shirt as he emerged from behind the truck and round the corner into the other bay. The impact with the concrete wall had slowed him substantially but he was still a foot of the ground and moving at speeds that would not seem possible.
I had only managed to close my mouth from the slack jawed gape which had started when the rope parted when I heard the sound of a body hitting the command vehicle. As I ran around the corner I saw Leeks laying unconscious under a tangle of bungee cord.
The enormity of the consequence for what I just did laid there in traumatized bliss. If I were caught they would court martial me. I was going to go to jail and have to make small rocks out of big rocks with a hammer while some giant told me how good my butt looked.
I automatically did what anyone confronted by damning circumstances would do, I coiled up the bungee cord and put it back in its storage place under the pool table and then I sneaked into the day room to watch the ending credits with the rest of my shift members leaving Sgt. Leeks to his G-induced dreams and knowing that I was living my last free moments for a very long time.
A few moments later as individuals where drifting through the building on various after duty tasks someone found Leeks, the rescue crew was summoned to the command bay for a medical emergency.
I ran out with the rest of my crew, and asked the same question that everyone else did. "What happened?"
A young Airman answered, "I don't know! I found him like this."
Sergeant Leeks was carefully stabilized and splinted in numerous locations and then loaded into an ambulance. Smelling salts revived him at the hospital where I knew that my arrest was upon me, but when that splinted and bandaged man from San Francisco, who looked like Boris Karloff from the mummy, was asked what happened, he answered with the same answer that everyone else was giving, "I don't know."
Freedom was beginning to look less threatened.
The doctor asked him what was the last thing he remembered and he said, "I think I was watching a movie about horses."
I laughed out loud in relief and the doctor shot me a questioning look, "We were watching a Western at the station." It was a half truth of course, but after assaulting a man with a giant piece of elastic, lying to an officer was the least of my problems.
Sgt Leeks stayed at the hospital for several days and then returned to the States for extended medical leave.
Military police and the Office of Special Investigations thoroughly investigated the incident and were baffled. There were large clues to what had happened to Leeks but no explanation as to how they had happened.
The hapless sergeant's silhouette had been pressed into a bay door about five feet above ground level. Some distance away paint had been scrubbed off a cement wall in a strange fashion and the side of the Chiefs truck had been dented in.
The report read something to the effect of "Firefighter Bernard Leeks suffered multiple injuries. Injuries were cause by being repeatedly impacting surfaces. Cause unknown. Injuries and evidence is not consistent with the capabilities of a human being or even multiple human beings. Injuries and damage would be consistent with multiple explosions, a tornado or jet blast but occurred inside a building. Status - unexplained/open."
To this date firefighters assigned to that Air Base believe that Sergeant Bernard Leeks was assaulted by ghosts with super human powers who bounced him off multiple walls and fire trucks. The fire station is gone and replaced but the legend lives on.
I wonder if they still have that bungee cord.
I'm writing this story down as it was related to me, in the first person but I want to stress that I am only the narrator and did not take part in any of the happenings.
* * *
I began to plan my revenge after a twenty four hour shift with Sergeant Leeks. For the entire shift he had bored me with his inane banter and drivel, but his lack of communication skills were not the reason that I decided to do him harm. It wasn't his peculiar smell or bathing habits. It was the way he spoke to me.
From the moment he first spoke to me I abhorred him. Always, he took great pains to explain even the simplest things to me, as if I had no concept why breathing or any other mundane thing was necessary. I don't know how I managed to hide my hatred for him as long as I did and have, somehow I did though.
On March 18, 1986 an idea hatched in my mind as I played pool after duty hours. The pool table was in an open bay and needed to be protected from weather. It was covered by a vinyl tarpaulin which was secured with a very large bungee cord. Rumor had it that the cord had something to do with a drag parachute on a B-52. In typical military fashion the cord had been "liberated" and put to a new use that it was never intended for, and was entirely too strong for. It surprises me that no one thought of the potential before.
The bungee cord was perhaps seventy five feet long and wrapped several times around the pool table. Large metal hooks had been made for it so it secured to itself.
I lit up a cigarette and stared at the cord that was coiled up neatly under the table. Then without real thought I picked up the cord and walked to the most distant bay in the building. Along the way I passed several large trucks and construction features which were going to play key roles in my decision to make Sergeant Leeks understand just how intelligent I was.
Some movie which I had seen before and not liked was playing in the day room and all the shift except me was watching it intently. They would be occupied for at least an hour, which I knew was time enough for my plan.
I hooked the cord around a building support near a command vehicle and then wrapped the cord once around another pillar. I ran the cord around a corner and then around the front of a large truck. A twenty ton come-along allowed me to stretch the cord much tighter then I otherwise could have. I secured the end of the cord with a bit of rope from an eye bolt which was used for stringing a volley ball net when weather would let us play outside. Like the bungee cord and the come-along it was much stronger than it needed to be.
The cord hummed like a giant guitar string. Everything was in place, all I needed was Sergeant Leeks. A radio call to dispatch informed the operator that Leeks had a phone call in the admin area. It only took a moment for the PA system to summon Leeks to the offices.
As he stepped out the door I hooked the cord into his belt and cut the rope.
In retrospect I now realize that I had mad several miscalculations. What I had expected to happen, was that Sgt. Leeks would be pulled suddenly along in a humorous and humbling fashion that would cause him new found respect for me. I figured that I would be able to lord the prank over him for the rest of our tour and that he would leave me alone. But that's not what happened.
I should have known from the amount of force that I had to use to wind the come-along that it was more than what was necessary for my prank. Again in hindsight I should have seen the way it stretched the rope and known that it was far to powerful. The last sign was the way that concrete flaked away around the lag bolt. Maybe I did notice, but I can tell you that even at a subconscious level I did not expect what happened because, when I cut the rope, Sergeant Bernard Leeks of San Francisco disappeared.
In cartoon fashion, his hat and shoes remained. Before I had time to mouth a silent profanity, the silence of a nighttime flight line was shattered by the meaty crash of a body striking a closed bay door at near supersonic speed.
I only had enough time to turn my head and watch as Sgt. Leeks was snatched away again at ninety degrees and while he might have been going slower than he had been, when I had cut the rope, he was still nearly invisible when he passed the big truck and slammed into the concrete wall.
There was a flash of green fatigue pants and a white t-shirt as he emerged from behind the truck and round the corner into the other bay. The impact with the concrete wall had slowed him substantially but he was still a foot of the ground and moving at speeds that would not seem possible.
I had only managed to close my mouth from the slack jawed gape which had started when the rope parted when I heard the sound of a body hitting the command vehicle. As I ran around the corner I saw Leeks laying unconscious under a tangle of bungee cord.
The enormity of the consequence for what I just did laid there in traumatized bliss. If I were caught they would court martial me. I was going to go to jail and have to make small rocks out of big rocks with a hammer while some giant told me how good my butt looked.
I automatically did what anyone confronted by damning circumstances would do, I coiled up the bungee cord and put it back in its storage place under the pool table and then I sneaked into the day room to watch the ending credits with the rest of my shift members leaving Sgt. Leeks to his G-induced dreams and knowing that I was living my last free moments for a very long time.
A few moments later as individuals where drifting through the building on various after duty tasks someone found Leeks, the rescue crew was summoned to the command bay for a medical emergency.
I ran out with the rest of my crew, and asked the same question that everyone else did. "What happened?"
A young Airman answered, "I don't know! I found him like this."
Sergeant Leeks was carefully stabilized and splinted in numerous locations and then loaded into an ambulance. Smelling salts revived him at the hospital where I knew that my arrest was upon me, but when that splinted and bandaged man from San Francisco, who looked like Boris Karloff from the mummy, was asked what happened, he answered with the same answer that everyone else was giving, "I don't know."
Freedom was beginning to look less threatened.
The doctor asked him what was the last thing he remembered and he said, "I think I was watching a movie about horses."
I laughed out loud in relief and the doctor shot me a questioning look, "We were watching a Western at the station." It was a half truth of course, but after assaulting a man with a giant piece of elastic, lying to an officer was the least of my problems.
Sgt Leeks stayed at the hospital for several days and then returned to the States for extended medical leave.
Military police and the Office of Special Investigations thoroughly investigated the incident and were baffled. There were large clues to what had happened to Leeks but no explanation as to how they had happened.
The hapless sergeant's silhouette had been pressed into a bay door about five feet above ground level. Some distance away paint had been scrubbed off a cement wall in a strange fashion and the side of the Chiefs truck had been dented in.
The report read something to the effect of "Firefighter Bernard Leeks suffered multiple injuries. Injuries were cause by being repeatedly impacting surfaces. Cause unknown. Injuries and evidence is not consistent with the capabilities of a human being or even multiple human beings. Injuries and damage would be consistent with multiple explosions, a tornado or jet blast but occurred inside a building. Status - unexplained/open."
To this date firefighters assigned to that Air Base believe that Sergeant Bernard Leeks was assaulted by ghosts with super human powers who bounced him off multiple walls and fire trucks. The fire station is gone and replaced but the legend lives on.
I wonder if they still have that bungee cord.
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