A Game of Chicken

Im sure everyone can think of a time when you were sitting at a red light or in traffic somewhere and you heard the faint howl of a siren. You instinctively check your mirrors and the traffic around you and see nothing. The sirens wail is getting louder and louder so you look around again and the POOF....fire truck!
You watch it go zoomin by and softly chuckle to yourself because although you heard it coming, it still managed to startle you as it went by. You watch it weave in and out if traffic and what seems like the speed of light and you think to yourself "Man! That would be a lot of fun."
Well I'm hear to tell you it is in fact, a lot of fun, but like everything else we do, driving the rigs can be just as precarious. But, as the Chauffeur (the driver/operator) you not only have the responsibility of the half a million dollar rig your wheelin and the lives of the other guys on board, you have to worry about the civilians driving around too. Chances are, if you hit a passenger car with a thirty to ninety thousand pound fire truck .....it's not going to be pretty. Theres also the other responding emergency vehicles you need to look out for. After all, everyone's headed to the same address but pretty much all coming from different directions, so your bound to cross paths with another emergency vehicle.
So it's definitely safe to say that driving, like most of the job, has an inherent level of danger. In fact, vehicle accidents are the second leading cause of firefighter deaths in the line of duty.
But also like everything else in the fire service, it takes a lot of training. Sure, you may already know how to drive, and its pretty much the same concept, but for the most part its way different. And there's no rear view mirror which generally kinda freaks people out. So backing up is usually the hardest thing to learn. In fact, when I started drivers training, I began with a nice stroll through town, then pulled into an industrial park and practiced backing up. Before I would get out of the drivers seat that night, I would drive backwards for 2 1/2 hours straight.....literally.
When we finally got back to the station, I asked why I was given a blunt and simple answer....."Any idiot behind the wheel can make it go forward but some people, no matter how long they practice, never learn to drive backwards and in this job it's just as important."
You wouldn't think, and I would soon learn, that aside from backing it into the bays after every call, there will be times when you absolutely need to know how to drive backwards using your mirrors.
After a few months of "DT" (drivers training) I was finally ready for my test. The Chief took me out in the wagon with 2 other guys and instructed me around town.
Now I had been driving training in the engine at least a few days a weeks for about 3 months, so I felt pretty comfortable behind the wheel. But this is the Chief, or "Pops" as we called him, was watching my every move, and if that wasn't bad enough, Pops worked as a Traffic Sgt. for the local PD so I had to be on point.
"Turn here, pull in there, back up to there, watch the yellow line, how fast are you going? where's the switch for the emergency lights? Talk me through putting it in pump gear?"
On and on and on..... I couldn't get one answer out and he was firing off another, it was nerve racking as hell.
"Head over to the college." he barked.
"Yes sir." I answered.
"Pull in the main drive and stop."
I again acknowledge his order with a "Yes sir" and then it hit me. It's time for the final part of test.
I pulled in, stopped, put it in neutral and set the air breaks.(fire trucks don't have "P"ark)
Pops shoots me a quick "Stay here." then gets out.
I hear the back cab door open and he starts talking to the two guys in the back, the door closes, then he hops back up front and explains to me what he expects me to do.
As safely and as quickly as I safely could, I had to take off, do one complete loop around the parking lot on the right, ziging and zaging around light poles and handicap parking signs, come back across the main drive way into the parking lot in the left and do one fast loop the whole way around, back trough a set of tight turns, then change direction within a given space and come back through the same set of tight turns forward, Stop, apply the parking break, engage the pump, fire up the generator, turn on the scene lights and accurately flow water to the other two guys who would hop off and stretch a hand line when I stop.
"Got it?" he asked.
And again with my mind going a hundred miles an hour, all I could muster was a "Yes sir."
"Good. I'll be watching from over at the hydrant, I'll wave when I'm ready."
I gave him a nod and he began to climb back out of the rig.
Then I hear "Oh yea, one more thing..."
"Yea Chief?" I asked.
".....don't wreck my fuckin engine." He added. Then shut the door.
Now my mind was going...."Does he really think I'll wreck it?" "Is he pissed?" "WTF!!"
I watched him walk over to the hydrant, he turned, gave me a wave.
My heart was racing, my palms soaked & white from gripping the steering wheel. I took a deep breath, honked the horn twice (fire service signal for moving forward)
"HIT IT!" shouted one of the guys in the back.
I released the parking break, shifted into drive and off I went.
It wasn't far into the pre determined course when I started to feel at ease. I seemed to take to driving & operating almost naturally to a point where I could practically drive by feel instead of intense concentration.
I worked through the various tasks like clock work. When it was all said & done, the Chief gave me a few small pointers and then gave me his blessing. I was free to drive the wagon, on calls.
We then began to repack the handling, the hooked to a hydrant to replace the water in the tank we had used, then headed back to the fire house. I pulled up and swung the engine away from the fire house, then began to back into the bays. Using my mirrors, I made minor adjustments steering the rig from left to right, trying to get the rig straight. Then, as fate would have it, "CRUNCH!"
My stomach instantly knotted and I immediately hit the break & looked out the drivers window and noticed I hit the side mirror off the building.
"So much for driving" I thought.
I looked at the Chief who was sitting in the Officers seat (front passenger) and mumbled the only thing I could..... "Sorry Chief..."
He just looked at me, his non-verbals said it all....
Then he barked, "Well don't just sit there, put the damn thing alway."
So I pulled forward a little & straightened out, then, with one broken mirror, finally got the engine in the bay.
I hopped out of the wagon, plugged it in (fire trucks have on board chargers to keep batteries and firefighting equipment charged) grabbed my gear to go hang it up when I hear the Chief from behind me.
"We'll, at least you got it out if the way early..."
I turned and saw him looking at the mirror.
"Sorry Chief." Was again all I could muster.
"Well, it like this," he replied. "There are those that have, and those that will..." Referring to the fact that I banged up the wagon.
".....just try not to make it a habit."
"I won't" I replied.
"Good, now go down to the maintenance room, grab a new mirror and get it on before we get a call."
I shot him another "yes sir" and then off I went to fix what I had broken.
On a side note, in true firehouse fashion, that broken mirror would show up every where for the next few weeks. From my locker, to my pillow, to under my sheets.... I didn't hear the end of that for some time.....and rightfully so.

It would be a few days before I got the chance, but with every squawk on the radio...my heart would start to race a little and I'd wonder....Is this the one?...but it never was. About 4 days after my test, I was sitting around the firehouse doing whatever when someone manualy rang the bells, a pre-warning of an incoming run (fire call) I, like everyone else, slide the pole to the apparatus bays and step into my boots.
"What is it!?" Someone shouted
"Vehicle fire....in 4's due" (station 4's district) someone else replied....then added "He's wheelin the wagon" and pointed to me. I finished pulling my bunker pants up, threw the suspenders over my shoulders, grabbed my helmet and coat then made a B line to the engine threw my coat and helmet in a compartment and climbed into the drivers seat.
My mind was going a mile a minuet, hastily sifting through the Rolodex of training in my head as my heart raced and pounded so hard I could see my shirt moving (literally) I reached down next to the seat and turned the battery switch....the dash lit up, the bells & buzzers chirped, and the mobile firebrand radio sprang to life with a pre-alert and the dispatchers voice putting out the call. This was for real.
I reached down, pushed the ignition switch, and then the start button. The rig shutters a bit as big diesel motor growls to life and my heart races even faster. Next I think, "air breaks" so I press my foot on the break pedal and reach for the big yellow parking break button, then stop... for the life of me, I couldn't keep my foot tightly on the break pedal.
"What the fuck!?"
I look down at my right leg and its shaking, and i dont meen shsking like I'm cold. It was visibly hopping up and down on the break pedal. The feeling of adrenalin mixed with a nervous excitement is so intense It tool everything I had to control it.
So I stop, sit up and take a few big deep breaths to try like hell to calm down. Then "SLAM" the officer door is yanked shut, damn near making me jump outta my skin. I look over at the officers seat and its my Captain, Keith (we call him "Fuss")
Knowing its my first run behind the wheel, He looks over at me and asks, " You Ok?"
I shot him a nervous nod.
"Well then, let's get going" he said.
I took on more deep breath, pressed the break pedal, released the parking break, shifted into drive and gave it some gas.
I pulled out onto the apron and made the left, my leg still shaking a little and my knuckles a pale white from gripping the oversized steering wheel tight.
I made it down the road about a quarter mile, and wouldn't you know it....traffic. Fuss stepped on the siren pedal an yanked the air horn chain..."Go Left!" He yelled....
I hesitated for a moment the he added, "Go left....Take it at an angle.."
Yup....he wanted me to hop the median strip & take the on-comming lanes. (as I'm sure all of you good drivers out there reading this know, by law, you are supposed to pull to the right and stop for emergency vehicles, so we're taught to always pass on the left.....or at least try too whenever possible.
With my heart still pounding out of my chest, I ease the steering wheel left and up and over the concrete hump separating the lanes and continue on in the oncoming lanes towards what is statistically the second busies intersection in the state. (in drivers training, they make it a point to repeatedly tell you that, not to scare you but to beat into your head that there are a lot more people on the road than just you and your firetruck)
Ahead of me is a white pick-up...I lifted my foot off the gas a little....
"Don't slow down, He'll move..." said Fuss.
So I kept going.....and so did the white pick-up.
Now you've all heard the phrase (or something to the effect) "He who has the most lug nuts, wins."
The guy driving the white truck obviously didn't get the memo. Even with all these flashing red lights & the screaming siren coming from the 34,000 pound fire truck coming at him...this guy wasn't going to move......or stop.
In a split second I surveyed my options......
I couldn't go left because someone in the oncoming slow lane had stopped, and there wasn't the room to maneuver around the stopped car and the ass hole in the white truck with out a good chance of smacking the stopped car head on.
I could go right and back over the median into the fast lane on "my side" of the road, only it had morphed into the left turn lane with 2 cars stopped at the approaching red light, waiting to turn. But if I timed it right and keep my speed (about 35 mph) there still a decent chance ill make it.
I holler over my shoulder to the back of the cab, "Hang on guys!"
Then, sounding like an auctioneer, I hear Fuss in the officers seat...
"What are you doing?What are you doing?What are you doing?What are you doing?...What the hell are you doing!?"
I ignored him, give it a little more gas & turn the wheel slight right, taking the rig back up over the concrete median, concentrating on the inches I may or may not have to spare. Then, as soon as I clear of the white pick-up I come back fast to the left and back over the median strip. I manage to keep from plowing into the vehicles in the turn lane and squeak by with out a scratch and continue through the intersection and back to my side of the road.
"Holy shit that was close!" Fuss exclaims.
I calmly reply, "Sorry about that but I didn't think I would have stopped in time." Now I wasn't going fast, but he was coming toward me to closing the gap even faster. Not to mention 35 mph seems a lot faster when your duckin & weavin through traffic.
We continue on our way, crossing into on coming traffic only one or two more times just to get around stopped vehicles and as we turned onto the road with the vehicle fire, we were returned in service (canceled.)
Now what I'm unable to get across in writing is how quick that little game of chicken was. The entire event took a fraction of the time that it took you to read it. If I had to put a number to it, I'd say about 4 seconds at best, but that still doesn't do it any justice.
I would learn a lot from my first little jaunt in the engine...maneuvering through traffic, hopping the median and how much the pair of eyes in the officers seat helps. But the most important thing I learned that day was that civilians don't always move out of the way....even when your heading right at them.

Silly Shenanigans & Fun with Civilians and the Media

There is a side of firehouse life that you, the civilian, never really see. Sure, you've probably seen us fight a fire or work at an accident but theres a side of the job most are unaware of. Quite honestly, the only I can explain the half of it is with a line I'm sure you have all heard, "Boys may get bigger, but they never grow up." Now, that's not to say we're all a bunch of immature adults. Simply look at what we do on a daily basis, and it doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that, to some degree, you gotta have a pretty good head on our shoulders to mentally deal with what we do and or see on any given day. But within our professionalism, there's a thin slice of fun, a release from the stresses of the job. Not to mention it passes the time when business is slow.
The fun can come at just about anytime, and any form. Although it seems to ramp up a bit during the slow periods (a stretch of time where call volume goes down & your left with a lot of free time) Also, and more importantly, it is non discriminatory. Everyone from the Chief down to the Junior firefighter is a target. (Ok, well not so much the Chief, but some of us have been know to test the waters) So to be a firefighter, you better have a good sence of humor and be able to take a joke or two.....or three.
Now, in the grand scheme of pranks around the firehouse, there are rules. No (serious) bodily harm, no touching someone's personal vehicle, if for some accidental reason personal property is damaged the "prankster" is always liable, nothing that will delay an emergency response and absolutely no touching someone's gear. Other than that, it's fair game and all about opportunity.
The shower is ways a good time to pull a prank. It can be something like patiently waiting for some one who's getting a shower to shut the water off. Then, having an accomplice yank the shower curtain back and you throw an entire container of powdered sweetened iced tea mix on the poor bastard who had just finished getting a shower....another good one (as long as your willing to pay to have it recharged) is getting a CO2 fire extinguisher and spraying it in the shower while they're in there....instantly turning every bit of moisture into ice, and if you do it just right, you can make it snow.
Turning someone's bunk into a fish bowl with shrink wrap is one of those rights if passage, you know, something that happens to just about everyone....while they're still sleeping in it of course. The bunk room was always a "deadly" place. A large room with 10 bunk beds and referred to as the "bat cave" because 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, its always dark. Usually the attacks happen in the evening while everyone's going to bed. But sometimes, in the middle of the night, all hell breaks loose and you partake in a huge pillow fight or maybe a game of full contact football.
Waking up to answer the direct phone line to dispatch can be dangerous as well. It was nothing to see someone walking across the bunk room to answer the phone & watch them drop like a ton of bricks. The unsuspecting victim of an Airsoft or blow gun round. (both leave a mark and sting like hell)
During a lull in fire calls, It's not uncommon to someone say "Hey, I got a cool idea..." It's usually these very same words that gives a chief chest pain because a "cool idea" usually isn't really a "good" one per-say, and almost always begs the question "what or who is going get get broken." The "who" is usually a Probie (probationary firefighter). For example, a probie NEVER mouths off to a senior man.....cause when they do they could very well find themselves strapped to a spare stretcher....at the top of a hill. Now, before you sit back and gasp "They wouldn't!?" there are two things you need to know. First and foremost, Yes, we most certainly would and second, there isn't a prank and/or stunt that's been pulled where safety hasn't been seriously considered. Many of potentially epic ideas had been scrapped on account of safety. So, before the Probie shoves off, carefull consideration has been given to angle, trajectory, placing the stretcher in the "load position" so it's perfectly flat and about 8 inches off the ground for a lower center of gravity. Then when we're all pretty sure it's good to go....it's time for launch.
The launch is good....quickly gets in the groove and is staying nice and straight. Then as we stand in amazement that it worked someone calmly says "Shit......we didn't figure on the storm drain..."
I looked back down the road to see the stretcher catch the storm drain and flip head over feet, landing the poor bastard flat on his face in the grass. Certain he's dead....we rush down to flip him over, and someone says "If he's gotta go to the hospital, at least he's already on the backboard AND the stretcher." Anyways, as bad as it could have been...it was a few stitches, and we all laughed about it....even the Probie.... once the bleeding stopped.
Civilians are also fun. We don't prank them as we would one of the guys but sometimes it's impossible to not have a laugh at their expense.
For example, while directing traffic at a vehicle accident with an overturned suv, a motorist pulls up and asks if he can get through, obviously the white suv on its roof in plain site 30 yards or so behind us did tip him off so he's politely told no and that he has to find another He then asks what happened and without missing a beat, one of the guys tells him there was a plane crash.....and the motorist believed him....even called & told his wife while he was sitting there....with the overturned vehicle still in plain sight.
Then theres the Ignorant civilians. They almost always get something from us, and it may be a biased opinion, but its done rightfully so. You would probably be amazed at some of the stuff we deal with from bystanders during an emergency. It's as if the house on fire isn't keeping us busy enough. I remember one time at a fire, I had arrived on the third in engine (third engine to arrive on scene) and as I'm grabbing my tolls, some guy starts shaking my shoulders and asks "Can you move that hose? I have to pick up a suit and I can't get out of my driveway."
I looked at him with a slightly confused expression and said
"No hablo Inglés." Then I turned and went to work. I did tell the Chief about the guy just incase he tried to drive over the hose and it's not a small hose, its the big yellow hose that connects to the hydrant to supply us with water, so it's kind of important and yes, people do actually try to drive over it. When the fire was deemed under control and the hose line shut down, the Chief found me and said go move tho hose and let that guy get out.
So I walked over, knocked on the door and when he answered I politely, in very clear, plain English, told him he could go now. He thanked me then you could tell by the look on his face that it hit him....I was the same guy that didn't speak English. I just shot him a smile and a nod then turned to go finish cleaning up.
Then there's the media...I understand they're just trying to do their job but they can be a huge hassle. As in I actually had one step in front of me for comment as I was walking into a high rise with active fire on the top floor....
"Excuse me sir, can you tell me what's going on."
With the camera and the mic in my face, I calmly replied "I'm still down here because there's some fucking idiot in my way, so I'm not sure what's going on yet."
She failed to find the humor in it.
Then one night we got the Chief and the media too. While cleaning up one night after a fire, I noticed the Chief step aside with a reporter to do his interview. So I grab two guys and fill them in on my idea. They agree to help so the 3 of us take up position in a way where the reporter won't see us and patiently watch as he and the chief get ready for the interview. Then once they get started, we pop out from behind the ladder truck, in plain site of the chief and begin "posing" in the most inappropriate sexual positions you can do with 3 people. The chief can see us plain as day and did try to complete the interview, but it just wasn't going to happen & he busted out laughing....as did we. We then disappeared behind the ladder truck again so that if the reporter turned around, we'd be gone. Back at the station after the call, we were cleaning tools and such when I hear my name get called... "Report to the Chief's office..." So I walk in and hear "Shut the door & grab a seat."
(this is usually not good)
"What's up Chief?"
He just sat there and glared....then said in a rather stern tone of voice... "Do you realize how un professional that was, I should have you suspended, and your cohorts too!.....What do you have to say for yourself?"
I stumble for the right words....."Well Chief...I just thought...."
"No, you obviously weren't thinking!"
I thought to myself.... "Well, I thought he found it funny but this one obviously backfired....big time."
I prepared myself to take the heat and imagined I'd get suspended for a week or two.....the big man was pissed. But before I could say anything, the chief bellowed "And your obviously not thinking now! Because if you were you'd be able to figure out that was one of the funniest fuckin things I've ever seen..." And he busts into hysterics again and then busted out with "GOT YA!" And yes he did and he had gotten me good.
So you see, when its time to work, we work. But shenanigans are never far away....and neither are pay backs.

Dear Penthouse.....

I saw this cartoon today and it reminded me of a time I was put in a similar situation.
We were working at a local high rise apartment building for a fire on the 5th floor. I had arrived riding Irons on the truck and was assigned evacuation of the 4th floor. "Irons" was my riding position. My primary job would be forceable entry, prying doors, cutting hinges and basically breaking into anything we need to check for occupants and possibly even fire. Why would we have to go door to door in a building that's on fire ? Well,at most multi-family residential buildings, false alarms or burnt food calls are so common that most people learn to ignore the fire alarm and don't evacuate until we're pounding on their door. And the most common phrase uttered in embarrassment as they frantically shutter out the door is, "I thought it was another false alarm." Another good one is "I didn't hear the fire alarm"....(I think they actually expect us to believe them.) Then, there are those lovely people who are totally ignorant towards us and refuse to leave until they are threatened with being arrested. (Yes, we really can do that)
And, of course, there are the doors no one answers....these we have to force. In laymen's terms, we break into the apartment to make sure it's not on fire and no one is home. Some times you find them asleep and as you can probably imagine, they're pretty shocked and at first pretty pissed off that your standing in their apartment. But they too eventualy make their way out. So basically the job is kinda like a Cracker Jack box cause you never know what's kind of "prize" is behind each door.
My partner on this call was a guy we called "Shleprock" or "Shlep" for short. Shlep was a damn good fireman one of the best I've worked with and strong as an ox too. He would carry any tool he could grab along with what was required for his riding position. We made the 4 story hike with all our equipment and decided we would work our way from one end of the hallway to the other, Shelp on one side and myself on the other.
We make our way down the hall pounding on doors & telling the tenants of the fire upstairs and that they need to leave their apartments. We decide skip forcing the doors with no answer until after we clear the rest of the floor and just continue on our way pounding in doors and clearing the floor if its tenants. When get to the end of the hall and are about to work our way back down the hall clearing the 3 or 4 "empty" apartments when we suddenly hear loud dance music. It's the kind of techno stuff they play at dance clubs. Shelp walks up to one of the doors that no one answered and in a puzzled voice says "It's coming from in here." As I approach him at the door, the door across from the one with the music opens, and a little old guys pokes his head out for a second then shuts the door.
Shlep, even more puzzled asks "Didn't you check that one?"
Now just as confused as him, I nod and walk upto the door with the little old man behind it.
I beat on it again, and Shlep starts pounding on the door with the music.
The little old guy opens his up again and asks what's going on. I tell him about the fire and that he needs to leave the building. He then, steps past me to tap on Shleps arm to get his attention. Shlep, still pounding on the door across the hall, turns and says "Someone's in there... I hear laughing...it sounds like a girl."
And the Little old man says, "Those two are a wild bunch....they probably won't answer the door so save your energy and quit making all that racket."
We all chuckle, then I set my tools down in the hall to help the old man collect his meds and start out of the building and Shlep, well, he was still pounding on the door, still with music blasting, and no answer.
At this point, we're getting pissed. We know theres someone in there and we've beat on the door loud enough that someone actually made a report on the radio from the fire floor that they can hear someone pounding. It's at this point we decide to force the door. So as I begin to I turn away from the door and grab the rabbit tool (small hand pumped hydraulic ram for forcing doors open) I hear the music get softer and then the latch on the door click. So I turn around to to see the door open up and standing there, in nothing more than an un-tied white silk robe and small (very small) black panties, is a gorgeous blonde. Then, from in the room behind her, I hear another girl ask "Who's here?" And just then a gorgeous brunette comes out of a room into view of the door. She is also wearing an untied robe and small (very small) red panties and sipping on a glass of wine.
In a provocative tone of voice, the blonde answers "They're firemen."
The brunette shoots back with a "Oooo really?....can we keep them?"
Now I can only imagine the look on our faces as we stood in a state of shock and in total awe of what was before us. I mean, when clearing a floor at a high rise fire, the last thing any fireman would expect to open the door is a scantily clad women of Playboy centerfold caliber, let alone two of them.
As I fumble to hold my tools while I pick my jaw up off the floor, Shlep utters "Good evening ladies, we're here to let you know that there a fire upstairs and that you should evacuate."
The Blond runs here hand softly down the side of Shleps face and says to her friend "They're here to save us..."
The brunette, now also standing in the door replies "Well I didn't call them but since they're here, I could use some good mouth to mouth...."
They both giggle, then the blonde, starts to stroke Shleps roof hook and adds ".....and it seems they both brought their "tools" with them."
The brunette then jumps in and starts to unclasp my coat and says "....do they have their suspenders.....firemen are sooo much hotter with suspenders on...."
Then she tugs on my coat, pulling me across the threshold and into the apartment, giggles then says "I think we'll be safer if you two stay here, after all, the only thing better than smoke detectors is having your own fireman."
The blonde quickly adds, "And we have two of them, one for each of us."
Now by this point, I dunno what the hells going on.....we came up to clear a floor and some how ended up in the beginnings of a Letter to Penthouse, and the building is still actively burning. We do our best to maintain some level of professionalism, but its hard to keep a though straight as your mind takes off in a thousand different directions as you try and figure out what the hell is going on. Not that we needed help figuring out what it appeared they wanted, but I mean really, when does shit like this happen in real life?
Anyway, Shlep tells them again, "Ladies, we're flattered, we really are, but this isn't a joke, there is a fire upstairs and we need to get you out of the building."
The blonde, now with a slightly surprised look on her face, has picked up on the urgency amongst the crackling in Shleps voice and shoots back "Really!?..... Oh my god! Are you serious!?" Then turns to the brunette and says "We better get going, maybe next time....."
At this point, both women, from what we told them and the radio traffic, realized that this in fact isn't another false alarm but an actual fire. They hastily run back into a bed room, shut the music off and throw on some close, then make their way out of the apartment and down the hall. Only stopping for a moment to thank us and invite us back when there isn't a fire. Then they each gave us a hug and a kiss and off they went.
Now back in the hallway, we just stood there & watched them leave. As the stairwell door closed behind them Shlep turned to me and asked "Did that really just happen."
"I think so Shlep....but I'm not totally sure?...." I answered.
We then quietly went about our business clearing the last two apartments, then reported to command that the floor was clear and waited for a new assignment. A few minutes later the fire was reported out so we gathered up our tools and returned to the rig.
A few guys asked how it went, obviously curious as to if we ran into anything out of the ordinary. We told them it was just the usual idiots. But obviously the looks on our faces told a different story. Even one if my Asst. Chiefs could tell something was up and relentlessly hounded us while we cleaned up to find out what happened but we kept brushing him off too. After all, how do you explain that? It wasn't until after we got back to the firehouse and were cleaning up that we told them about our little encounter. Some of the guys believed us, others didn't, and quite honestly, I can't say I blame the ones that didn't. In fact, had I not been there, I probably wouldn't believe it myself.