Tin-Tin Finally Gets The Sack
My favourite sacking story comes courtesy of my Great Uncle. After he left the navy, post-war, he became a fireman until his retirement. Whilst there, his service was rewarded one year during the fifties by being given the job of organising the local bonfire night fireworks display. Whereas now this is still run by the fire service but paid for by the council, back then the fire service paid for it themselves, with the help of the odd public donation. So it was a much more modest display, but still a couple of hundred quids worth and still attracting a few thousand locals to the site to watch the proceedngs.

So my Great Uncle was filled with pride as he strutted out in front of the cheering crowd. The bonfire was already lit and burning nicely, he'd already lit his taper and opened the metal box to get out the first firework (yes, get out, this was the fifties, no fancy pyrotechnics, intricate patterns and big electric buttons that made them go bang). Being a firemen he knew not to take risks and held the taper above his head, well away from the fireworks as he reached into the box. He would later say that he didn't feel anything and the first sign of trouble was as he saw the taper fall past his nose in slow motion. He looked at the box crammed with fireworks, saw the smouldering taper land in the middle, reached in to retrieve it, realised what he was doing and stopped briefly before sensibly screaming like a maniac and running like fuck.

What was going to be a jolly fifties hour long firework display was instantly turned into a violent two minutes of explosions, terror, ducking, swearing and general pant soiling. The result was pretty good considering, no one was hurt, except the Great Uncle's pride, and the crowd generally thought it was pretty funny rather than hugely disappointing, once the panic had subsided that is. My Uncle was immediately re-christened Tin-Tin because of the metal box the fireworks were in and, god knows why, wasn't sacked from his job as fireworks organiser.

So why was he sacked? I hear you ask. Well, that occured precisely a year later when, absolutely no word of a lie, he did exactly the same thing again. According to his wife it was like watching a replay on the football. He opened the box, he dropped the taper, he detonated everyone's hard work in mere minutes amidst the panic and screaming. I can still never understand how he kept his job as a fireman, never mind just sacking him from the fireworks part. Still, my favourite bit is whenever we go round his house he still manages to gamely laugh when he pulls out a match to light his pipe and everyone throws themselves to the floor or hides under tables with cries of 'Incoming!'.
( Gleeballs is mostly made out of chocolate and hate., Mon 27 Feb 2006, 21:52, Reply)