Johana had survived basic training. She had endured tech school and even suffered through dating Luke and his tragic mustache. Now, she had finally made it to her first official duty station—the North Pole.
When she first heard where she was going, she thought it was a joke. Maybe a fun little prank from the Air Force. But no. It was real. Her first deployment was literally to the land of Santa Claus and penguins.
As she stepped off the transport plane, she braced herself for a slap of freezing air so cold it would make her reconsider every life decision up to this point.
Instead… it was nice.
Way too nice.
The sun was shining, the sky was a crisp blue, and there was a gentle breeze that whispered, “Hey girl, maybe this won’t be so bad.”
Johana squinted. Had the Air Force been lying about the cold this whole time? Was this some kind of secret tropical paradise disguised as an Arctic wasteland?
Her escort, a Sergeant who looked like he had seen at least three wars and a bar fight with a moose, led her toward the base. Along the way, he casually pointed out the essentials: the dining hall, the rec room, and most importantly, the one and only coffee machine that actually worked. The Holy Grail of the Arctic.
“Touch it before I get my cup in the morning, and you’ll be running laps around the base in a blizzard,” he warned.
Noted.
Johana met her new roommates—two girls who seemed alarmingly cheerful for people stationed at the edge of the world—and finally settled into her dorm. The walls were decorated with graffiti from past residents, ranging from motivational quotes like “Embrace the suck!” to more concerning messages like “If you hear howling, don’t go outside.”
She opted to ignore that last one.
The First Day on the Job: Chaos Begins
Bright and early the next morning, Johana marched into the base medical clinic, ready to save lives, make a difference, and—most importantly—not mess up so badly that they shipped her to an even colder place (if that existed).
Her fellow medics were friendly, welcoming, and—unlike her—already immune to the sheer madness that was military healthcare.
Johana’s first patient? A guy who tried to fight a reindeer.
Why? Because it “looked at him funny.”
Her second patient? A grown man who had gotten his tongue stuck to a metal pole.
She couldn’t make this up if she tried.
Her superior officer just sighed as if this was a regular Tuesday.
“Welcome to the North Pole, Airman,” he muttered as he handed her a bottle of warm saline to pour over Tongue-Stuck-to-a-Pole Guy.
Things only got worse when she was asked to assist with a routine check-up. The patient was a 6’5” brick wall of a man who looked like he could punch a bear and win. Unfortunately, the moment Johana pulled out a needle for a blood draw, this mountain of muscle fainted like a Victorian woman in a corset.
Johana blinked at the unconscious giant on the floor.
“Is… is this normal?” she asked.
Her coworker shrugged. “Happens all the time. The bigger they are, the harder they fall.”
By lunchtime, Johana had bandaged a guy who lost a bet and ran shirtless through the snow, treated a woman for frostbite because she ‘wanted to test her limits,’ and listened to a conspiracy theory about polar bears secretly working for the government.
It was only Day One.
That night, as she collapsed onto her bed, exhausted but weirdly entertained, she realized something.
This place was a madhouse.
And she absolutely loved it.
Sure, she was in the literal middle of nowhere, surrounded by people who made questionable life choices daily, but at least…
At least no one here had a tragic mustache.
The End… or just the beginning.
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