Cans and Fires Don't Mix

This is one of those "You really had to be there" stories that really did happen, again to our Scout troop.

It was early one Saturday morning and we all piled into the Troop bus and off we went. It was one of those warm late fall New England weekends when the leaves changed and the sun set early.

We drove to one of our regular campsites, located at the crest of a hill, where we laid out and put up our genuine U.S. Army surplus shelter-halves in neat rows that faced the Scoutmaster's six-person tent. Right in between, we built a roaring fire that would serve to cook our food and help keep us warm when the sun dropped early that fall afternoon and its warmth fled.

It really didn't take us long to get this all set up and, like all kids, get bored, so we started the fire early and not just any fire. Oh, it was regulation, but a couple of the guys found some interesting firewood: huge rail ties soaked in something like creosote. That fire burned like crazy, flaring hot and red. Some of us wondered about something: what would happen if you dropped an unopened can of soup into that inferno?

No sooner had that mad thought crossed our young minds then a can of tomato soup appeared like a grenade from somewhere and went hurtling into the fire. Seeing it fly over, the bunch of us standing near the fire figured we had better move, just in case something did happen.

We hit the dirt just below the hillcrest and peaked up to watch the epic struggle of tomato soup and fire. It was a lopsided, not even pyhrric victory for the fire. Try as it might, the poor can of soup tried to withstand the searing flame and broiling heat, but it was over in less than two minutes. The poor can lost its battle and blew apart, spewing its contents all over the place.

To this day, I still have two vivid pictures in my mind: 1. the can top, spinning and floating 45 feet off the ground, just hanging there; and 2. the six-person tent turned into a tomato-soup-coated polka dot and khaki mess.

Everyone burst out laughing and agreed it was the best part of the weekend not only because of the successful scientific experiment, but also because our Scoutmaster was more than a little perturbed he ended up in a shelter-half, like the rest of us.