02/06/08
 

It's been a long, long time that I've been doing this job. I got into it for one reason and one reason only. To fight fires. To fight fires and keep fighting fires because I love nothing more than the thrill of it, I love nothing more than to pit my strength, guts and brains against something that can kill me. I love nothing more than to kick the shit out of forces stronger than I am. I love to fight, and fighting fires gives me the chance to do it on the right side of humanity.

I'm sitting here about as tired as I've ever been, I've had two hours of sleep in the last 36. At 0230 yesterday morning I got up and fought a fire. It was a house fire and it was a story of triumph and good things.

When I was putting on my turnout gear I looked at my watch, I didn't really need to. I knew what time it was. It was somewhere between two and three in the morning, I call it "The witching hour" because it seems that that's when most of the really nasty stuff occurs. That's when drunks smash their cars at high speed, that's when hearts stop beating, and that's when fires get a really good hold while families sleep, sometimes too long and forever after.

When I rolled up to this house my chief had already arrived, he was in command and getting things scoped out and sized up. Usually I help him out, or work in a supporting command capacity, usually these days I direct crews or support in some other way, such is the life of a senior officer. Sometimes, however, I see a need and fill it. The first thing we were going to need was a hydrant, water supply was going to be critical. There was one a hundred yards away. I ran to it and got there just as the pumper did. I pulled the line, connected the hydrant and got water to the pumper. The hydrant was grown into a cedar hedge, the trunks of the bushes left me just enough room to turn the hydrant wrench half a turn. A job that should have taken a minute took three, and it seemed like thirty.

With the hydrant open and flowing water to the pumper I ran up and talked to the chief, expecting to be put in charge of suppression, manpower or something else. He looked at me, I looked at him.

"We need to ventilate or she's going to flash over" he said. I looked up at the big picture window in front and saw black, not the black of a dark house but a close, pressing black right up against the glass. Every other window upstairs was black too, the entire floor was heavily charged with smoke. There was no visible flame. I tossed on a self contained breathing apparatus, sealed up the mask, pulled my nomex balaclava over my head,  joined up with another guy, and headed in the door.

To say it simply, I couldn't believe my luck.

There was already one team inside, they had gone down the entry stairs and hit the fire in the basement. It had darkened some, but not much. They were trying to get upstairs but it was simply too hot for them. This is the kind of stuff I live for. This is a challenge, a fight, something you either manage to do or don't. We had to get to that big window in the living room, we had to break it and release all that smoke and heat or lose the house. We went into that front door almost at a run, shouldered past the crew stalled on the stairs and up into that killing heat. The fight had stopped, and we were what was going to start it again.

The guy behind me is fabulous. He's in his mid-20s but has been with us since he was a work experience student in high school. He's young but he's solid as hell and I knew, I KNEW he was right behind me.The idea he might not be never entered my mind. That's the joy and wonder of this job. We put our lives in each other's hands without a second thought.

We hit the top of the stairs and the heat struck us like knives. It was absolutely breathtaking in its intensity. We were driven down from our hands and knees to flat on our bellies. We knew where we were going however, and just slithered along as fast as we could. The heat wasn't going to decrease until we did our job, we had no choice. I love moments like that. Moments when you wonder how the hell you're gonna survive to get the job done, moments when you know you have to no matter what, moments when you wonder if you'll live or die.

You see, a "flashover" is when the atmosphere is inside a building is so hot, and there are so many unburned particles of fuel, that everything simply... ignites.

I figured we had less than a minute before that happened, and we were right in the middle of it.

everything was black, I could feel the skin on my head and ears burning, there was a fair amount of pain, but my hand which was feeling along the wall found the glass of the big picture window.

Stan had the nozzle ready and I just swung my arm hard. The window shattered and I wondered idly if i was gonna get a big shard in my arm or anything like that. It didn't seem all that important at the time though, I was trying to avoid dying.

Once the window glass was gone, Stan opened the nozzle in a fog pattern and flowed it out the window. This is "Hydraulic ventilation and it's job is to suck the smoke and heat violently out the window. Stan turned to me and said "Fuck it's HOT!"

I said "If this bitch flashes over we're going straight ahead!" meaning that we'd simply dive out the second strey window and take out chances with gravity rather than the fire.

"Just give the signal!" he replied.

"Screw that!" I said "The signal will be bright red and hot as hell, don't wait for me to say anything, just dive!"

It wasn't necessary though, the hydraulic ventilation did its job. The smoke cleared some, the heat reduced and the other crews could get upstairs and get the fire fought. we started to search the building and overhaul. The crisis was over as fast as it had begun. Now we were back to regular old firefighting.

Afterward we came out and I saw that one of the members of the other team was one of our rookies, a guy with only about eight months in. He was awestruck. As much with what he had done as the fire itself. I was ecstatic, I had had a chance to fight fires from the inside again. He had proven to himself that he has what it takes to do this job. I had had a chance to remind myself I've still got what it takes. He "Made his bones" there, he proved to everyone that he can be trusted not to run when things get ugly.

He's just starting. One day he'll learn that the process never ends. Each time you wonder if you can do it again. Each time you do it again you rejoice.

Twenty years from now he'll be me.

The family who lived there did everything right. They had three smoke detectors and all worked. When they went off the family believed them, didn't assume a false alarm but took them seriously and got the hell out. They had planned ahead and had practiced their exit. They had selected a meeting place and went there, after ensuring everyone was out they had gone to the neighbour's place and called us.

We saved their house. It's extensively damaged but it will be rebuilt. We did the easy part, THEY saved themselves months ago when they made their plans and practiced. THEY saved themselves when they did as they had trained.

We didn't do much, they had already taken care of the important stuff.