The Flying Fire Truck

Balder was the oldest fire truck at the fire station. He should have been happy because he loved his job. But lately, all the newer fire trucks got to the fires before him.

“It’s been so long since I last put out a fire,” Balder told his friend Harry, the helicopter. “The city is always full of cars, and the newer fire trucks rush through the traffic much faster than me.”

Harry thought hard. “I’ve got an idea!” he exclaimed. “Flying is much faster than driving. If you could fly to the fires, you’d always get there first.”

“But fire trucks can’t fly,” said Balder. “That’s impossible. Trucks don’t have wings.”

“I’ll carry you,” said Harry. “I’m strong, and I’ll get you to the fires in no time.”

Suddenly, the fire alarm went off. Balder felt nervous. He had never flown before, but he really wanted to put out the fire. So he let Harry lift him up. Soon, they were soaring through the city, high above the traffic jams in the narrow streets.

“There’s the fire!” shouted Balder.

A large factory was engulfed in flames. WHOOSH! SPLASH! Balder sprayed water from his hose, extinguishing the fire. Then Harry gently lowered him back to the ground.

The newer fire trucks came speeding to the factory. “It’s great that you got here so fast!” they gasped. “The fire was spreading really quickly.”

The fire officers praised Balder and Harry. “From now on, we’ll always have Harry nearby to transport Balder,” they said. “Long live Balder and Harry!”

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