Run Sheet
00/09/10
This morning we began training the new class of recruits.
In the recruit training part of my job I supervise a class of recruit Firefighters and their coaching staff. These classes vary in size from six students to fifteen. The way we train recruits requires there to be as many teachers as students so it ends up being a lot of people to keep on track all day. We work pretty hard on basic firefighting skills like searching buildings, fire suppression, rescue and water supply to name a few. The recruits work with us on Sundays and Tuesdays for ten weeks before moving to their firehalls for the rest of their training. It lasts for a year total until they are full fledged Firefighters.
It's hard to look at these shining innocent faces and not laugh at their sheer innocence sometimes. I don't mean that in a bad way, and I don't mean that I'd laugh at them. I mean that it strikes me as funny to look in a mirror.
They are embarking on a journey of years. Right now they're still clumsy in their turnout gear, still looking mildly embarassed that they're dressing as Firefighters without really being Firefighters. Today I watched their eyes shine like children. I watched them unable to hide their glee when they got their first ride on a Firetruck. I watched their coaches smile a lot too, remembering their first rides. In truth the coaches were remembering their first rides, and pretty much every ride since. You get used to it, but riding on a Firetruck always retains the "wow, cool!" factor. There's always a bit of a thrill. Wait till they drive for the first time.
I looked into those eyes as they gleamed with nervous expectation. These guys (and one gal) fairly vibrating with excitement. Unsure, yet looking ahead to adventures and listening to the war stories (some of them even true) that us old timers bandied about during the breaks in the class. I wondered how many of them would become oldtimers themselves. I wondered just how many of them would stick with this craft. I reflected on my own time as a recruit. The wonder and worry, the fumbling and learning, but mostly the awe, the breath-catching realization that I really would soon really be a firefighter. I remembered pulling off my air mask after my first actual, honest-to-God structure fire. I remembered the cold air slapping my sweat soaked face as I grinned at my partner, an oldtimer long retired now, and saying "Holy shit, this is real"
Eighteen years later I still I still love what I do, eighteen years later I still find myself saying "holy shit, this is real"