01/11/26

Another night, another fire.

Sometimes there are moments during emergencies where we find funny moments. Sometimes there are times we just decide to mess with civillian's minds.

Last night was one of those nights.

It was just a quick moment as a building burned, but it was enough to make us giggle throughout the fire.

At 0240 this morning we were called to a structure fire. When I rolled up I could see a garage well involved way at the back of a property. It was a good sized structure and there was heavy flame showing. It was burning well and was going to take some work to deal with. I was ahad of the pumper in my own vehicle and so had a minute or two to decide where to place the truck. Like I said, the building was way at the back of the property. There was no access that would fit our truck and visions of pulling 500 feet of 2 1/2" hose again flashed through my mind. My back is still sore from that last escapade and I groaned at the thought.

Just then an idea struck me. I ran out of the yard and down the street to the next driveway. Fabulous! the neighbour's driveway could easily accomodate the pumper, and it stretched all the way to the back of the property. All we would have to do was drive down and pull the hose lines through his hedge and we'd be right in the teeth of the fire. We'd be perfectly positioned. It was better than I could hope for.

One of the things that many people don't understand is that fires don't make a hell of a lot of noise in general. Yes, they snap and pop pretty loud, but not loud enough to wake you up if you're asleep in a house a hundred feet away.

I told the pumper what I wanted and checked out the fire. I had my plan all figured out and all I could do was wait. It didn't take long for the pumper to arrive. They pulled in and barreled down the driveway paying out 4" supply line on the fly. It was a beautiful thing to see. When the big diesel skidded to a stop and the driver set the parking brake with a loud blast of air the I shouted orders to the crews diving off the rig. Lines were pulled, air packs were donned and the guys dashed to their jobs. It was a ballet of slamming equipment and shouting men. I surveyed it with distinct satisfaction. Everything was going exactly as it should.

One thing I haven't mentioned is that all of this was going on roughly eight feet from the master bedroom of the house... the house of the neighbours... the house of the neighbours who had NO idea there was a fire. I was surveying my crew's actions from just outside the unsuspecting people's back door.

I heard the door open behind me and turned in time to see a half-dressed man about my age with his hair as messed up as his consciousness. Peeking out from behind him was his equally bewildered wife. The man and I locked eyes. There he stood, wearing jogging pants and nothing else, there stood his wife wearing a t-shirt nightie and (near as I could tell) nothing else. In his hand was the only weapon it would appear he could find, what looked to be a nine iron. There I stood, a firefighter in full turnout gear, behind me a pumper truck with lights flashing, hoses emerging from it firefighters running around and a building blazing in the background.

I smiled at him

"Good evening!" I said greeting him warmly.

His mouth opened, no sound came out.

"Nice night eh?" I said looking up at the sky.

His mouth closed with a snap.

"Jeez" I said looking at the golf club "You must be quite the golfing fan if you're starting this early"

He looked at me, squinting, trying to make sense of what was before him.

"Well, I can't stay here and talk golf" I said "I've got to go to work"

At that I jogged off to where my guys were beginning to get water on the fire.

Half an hour later, once the fire was out and we were beginning to pull things apart and overhaul the building I happened to look back.

There they stood, he still with the glf club in his hand, she, still standing behind him. Still staring.

Sometimes it's just too goddamned tempting.
 
 
 
 

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