At just about every firehouse there is one night a week or month set aside for training. Usually it's nothing more than training on techniques, tools & equipment we use on a fairly regular basis, or, on a rarer occasion, for the guys to familiarize theirselves with something new. One night while at drill as a member of 13 Engine Co, we were doing search training. This is the task of entering a burning building and methodically searching every room for victims. It more or less boils down to two firefighters working as a team, crawling around and sweeping the floor with their arms and legs in hopes of feeling any victim laying on the floor, only in a real fire, you usually can't see anything & it's hard to hear anything over the Darth Vader like sound as you breath into your air mask mixed with the sounds of fire trucks, chain saws, breaking glass and of course, the roar and crackle of the fire. So, as "simple" as it may seem, in the real world, it's a little more challenging than you think. . Now as you can imagine, it's a bit difficult to mimic those conditions for training, after all, lighting off the firehouse isnt exactly good for business or PR, so you crank up some tunes for background noise and pull your nomex hood over your mask so you can't see. Then, you search the firehouse for victims. In our case, he was a dummy made out of fire hose & stuffed into a set of bunker gear. We were about 30 minuets into drill and i was patiently waiting ny turn when we hear a first alarm assignment go out in station 21's first due (their fire district) for a working structure fire at an old glass manufacturing plant. Shortly after dispatch, chief 21 calls for a second alarm. You can tell by the tone of his voice this was a good fire, so we turn up the radio a little and listen a little more carefully as the call unfold. As we continue to listen we notice the anxiety in the voices of those on scene....and practically everyone with a radio reporting heavy fire conditions...and in almost no time at all, the attempt at an interior fire attack is nixed and the decision is made to go defensive....or as its know in the service, a "Surround and Drowned." By this time, drill has come to a standstill as everyone at the fire house huddles around the radio & listens. Debating exactly where the building is located & what the best place to set up elevated master streams (ladder trucks with the big nozzles at the tip of the ladder) Its not too long into the call that we begin hearing pump operators starting to get a little frantic as they do everything they can to get as much water out of the hydrant as they can. We begin to realize, as I'm sure they already had, they're running out of water. The small water main that feeds the area in which the fire is located simply isn't big enough to supply the needed amount of water to fight a fire of this size. Compile that with multiple engines in a 2 block radius sitting on hydrants that are all on the same water line, and you've got water issues, and that in itself is a huge problem. You see, water supply is key in the firefighting operation. Obviously you need water to actually put the fire out, but it's more than that. Water supply is the building block of the entire operation. Any fireman with some experience will tell you, if you have problems with the water supply, the rest of the call turns to shit in a hurry. By now a third alarm has been transmitted plus a few "special calls" for ladder trucks and first and second alarm companies are putting in for standbys. These are engines and trucks that are dispatched to fill in at fire stations who are on scene. It was obvious that this was turning into a block party ("invite" a bunch of fire companies to squirt water and watch the block burn) so we were wondering not so much if but when and where we would end up on stand-by. Then we here the familiar "clunk!" and the fire whistle behinds to wind up and scream. At first we're all sorta confused, after all we never heard the alert tones over the radio, so we're not quite sure where we're going. "911, station 13 respond, assist station 21 with a working commercial fire" Well, I guess No stand-by for this house, we're going to the scene of my first "big fire." Already half dressed from drill, me and 7 others grab the rest of our stuff, hope on the wagon and away we go. We pull out, make the left out of they bays and Scott, our chauffeur puts the hammer down. 13 has a pretty good wagon with some real get up and go, and Scott, one of if not the best driver we have and one of the best I've ever seen, knows how to squeeze every last bit of power out of the motor. The 5 mile or so drive seems to take for ever, even at what seemed like Mach 2. The whole way, the radios going not stop with alert tones, stand- by companies marking up (acknowledging the call) firefighters and pump operators all over the air (talking on the radio) and poor chief 21 who for the most part can't get a word in edge wise, is trying to run a large scene and give orders,. I know, you have to wonder how the guy in charge is unable to talk on the radio. At the time, the county radio system wasn't exactly the best thing goin and the fire service in general had the radio etiquette of a toddler. Basically it boiled down to one simple phrase "Have radio, will talk"
We continue through the neighboring towns on the way, and at about 3 miles away you can see the large orange glow in the sky. As we wind through some of the tight streets we start haveing to weave in and out of traffic that has either gathered to watch or has been turned away from the scene by police. As we get a few blocks away, we somehow, amongst all the radio chatter, manage to call approaching and get instructions to reverse lay (lay hose from the fire to the hydrant.) from an engine positioned about 100 yards from the fire building to a hydrant a couple blocks away that we're told should have sufficient water because it's on a different water grid. We pull up to an engine at in intersection, and stop. The officer yells back "Let's Go!" and we peal off the rig. As I step out and look up the street toward the scene, trying to make sense of the many fire trucks just beached all over what looked like miles of hose....and this orange glow that practically lit up the entire neighbor hood, and that smell..... As one of the guys bumps me & breaks my thoughts...."Got your face piece?" he asks. I check and give him a nod. "Well then lets go" And up the street we went, up hill, a steep ass hill I might add. Up past the still parade of fire trucks all the while stepping over and around the miles of hose. As we crest the hill, the excitement of seeing my first big fire up close were dashed with disbelief as I see that the building is still about 200 yards down the street. So we continue the long hike. After what seemed like forever, we make it to the front of the building. The entire scene is lit with a bright orange glow, a glow so bright it was next to impossible to even look at the building. And the heat was intense. You couldn't get within 40 ft of the building itself without risking minor burns to yourself. I imagine it would be like standing next to the sun.
We're instructed to stretch a few hand lines and a portable deck gun, (that's the big "water cannon" on top of a fire engine) and officially set up for surround and drowned, for this was definitely well beyond an interior attack and had been for some time. We sat on our hand lines, aiming water at the inferno in what seemed like a pointless effort, occasionally knocking down the fire in a nearby tree that had lit off from the heat, wich added a little flavor to the monotony of sitting in one place babysitting hose lines. After a while we decided to just strap the hose lines to nearby trees & fences so we could go get warm. We walked down a small driveway that led to the building and about 150' down was what looked like a small building burning with a bunch of firemen huddled around. As it would turn out, it was an old guard shack that command elected to let free burn so that it could be used as a source of heat for the guys as the night went on. It was a damn good idea too. You see, when the call came in, the temperature outside was in the upper 50's but had been forecast to drop drastically....and boy did it. We warmed up and drank some luke warm brown water (we were told it was hot chocolate) and after about 45 min stepped away from the "Bon fire" and went back to our hose lines. Immediately we notice a thin layer of ice starting to build up on a chain link fence, that by morning would be a solid 3 inch thick wall of ice. It got bitterly cold and fast and we did everything to keep warm, but in soaking wet gear, it was next to impossible. At one point we did 15 minuet shifts taking turn huddled around the exhaust of a nearby ladder truck. It was horrible.
Eventually we were relieved but asked to remain on scene to relieve another crew in about an hour or so. We headed to our squad truck, climbed out of our we gear and wrapped ourselves in blankets. We tried to get some sleep but you just couldn't get warm, and just about the time I fell asleep, it was our turn back on the lines. It continued that way the rest of the night & by the time we returned to station the following morning we had been on scene for 18 very long, cold hours. The first due company would remain on scene for another 2 days and even felt kind enough to call us back the next evening to relieve some of the crews on scene and help pick up some of the miles and miles of hose. As it would turn out my first major (abandoned) commercial structure would become and still stands as the single biggest fire I have ever gone to battle with.
