First Response

By: Sharon

Station 126...House fire...25 Bronson...cross street George...25 Bronson...time out...eight thirty-three. 

With those words, my stomach dropped into my size ten, spit shined regulation fire boots. I'm responding to my first fire as a captain. God, I'm scared. I'm positive I won't have the guts to enter that blazing fire once our rig pulls up along side it. It's been years since I set foot inside a burning building. Will I remember what to do? Will I be able to command? Will my men listen to me? The questions running through my head leave me searching for answers I don't have.

Oh sure...I've been scared before, every fireman has. I know we don't talk about it, or admit to it for that matter, but we all face the fear demon on a daily basis. As we speed along the streets of Los Angeles, our lights flashing and our sirens blaring, the buildings disappearing at an alarming rate, I mentally grab my stomach and haul it back into my abdomen. I’m not about to display my vulnerabilities. Not now, not here, I had to be in command and if these guys sensed my fear, it could prove fatal. 

I remind myself how terrified I had been as a boot, riding to my first blaze. I thought for sure that I'd make a complete ass out of myself. I did of course. Our engineer, Dave (Frenchy) English, fired up mine and my partner's, Tom (Iron Man) Barron's, line and I immediately fell flat on my ass. Tom reaches down with his burly hand, clutches my turnout just above my top button and hauls me back to my feet. Then, he looks me straight in the eye and says, "You don't stay on your feet kid, you'll be dead by the end of the year, and it won't be no fire that buries ya!" I never let a line catch me off guard again. 

Because Tom continued to ride me for a good seven months, I convinced myself he disliked me, but I was wrong. Tom took his role as mentor very seriously, and I've often found myself reaching back to those early years in the department, especially Tom's diligent guidance, with fondness and understanding. He was whipping me into shape and for that I'm eternally grateful. I can't be sure, but I hope I've managed to impart some of the wisdom I've acquired during my ten years to some young probie who thought he knew it all.

As we continue to snake our way along the roads of LA, I think back to my first day as an engineer. I was horribly excited and yet once again scared to death. Growing up, I always wanted to drive a fire engine. Even thinking about it now, gives me a thrill I can’t quite describe. It’s like waking up on Christmas morning to discover Santa Claus found you at your new home. That was the ultimate job in my young mind. I never thought much beyond driving the rig though. I failed to realize the huge responsibilities that went along with the rank of engineer. Upon learning of the other duties involved, my desire only grew. I figured I had the mental fortitude to remain focused in any situation, to help my fellow firefighters who run into those burning buildings everyday of their lives. I enjoyed the adrenaline rush of firing up those lines and making a mental note of which firefighter was at the other end of each. I learned what each of those men’s weaknesses and strengths were. Making sure I didn’t knock the guy flat on his ass, as my first engineer did to me; wait let me rephrase that, as I let my first engineer do to me. 

Glancing at my engineer, Phil Avery, I realize my responsibilities haven’t really changed that much. I’ll need to learn each of my men’s strengths and weaknesses, only I’ll have to do this in a rather short period of time if I have any hope in hell of gaining their trust. Which makes me think of Hank. What a great leader he is. I hope I can be half the captain and half man he is. If I can, I know I’ll do fine. I’m still scared to death though. How do I gain their trust? I know I can do this. I’m a mature adult who knows how to fight fires; it’s just been a few years since I had to. Of course, I’m in charge now, that’s different. I guess I’ll just have to think back to the few times I had to take charge when Cap was injured. I didn’t think about it so much as I just did what comes naturally. There’s a job to do and you just do it. Will that work as a captain? A captain who has to think about what kind of fire we’re responding to, and size up any and all information I’ll receive by civilians when we roll up. The civilians, what was it the captain’s manual says? The property owner or innocent bystander can be an invaluable source of information. Listen to what they have to say and weed out the useful data. Weed out. Will this come naturally, or is this something that you develop over the course of a few weeks, a few months, or even years? Man, there’s just so much to think about. 

Like I said, I’m a mature adult who knows how to do this job. Sure, I may have to make some adjustments along the way. Like when I became an engineer. That turned out to have a big impact on my personal life. Gone were the days of late night bar hopping and carousing. As a lineman, these activities didn’t seem to affect my day job. I found out rather quickly, I couldn’t keep up that pace as an engineer. Drinking till all hours of the morning and going to work hung over on occasion didn’t seem to slow me down as a linemen. It was a totally different story as second in command. I’m not proud of those days, no wonder I didn’t find the love of my life and get married until I became an engineer. What woman would want a womanizing fireman in her life? Don’t get me wrong, I know a lot of engineer’s who can carry on that life style and still perform their jobs. Heck, I know many paramedics who can, too. Maybe it was just age that calmed me down. Who knows? I suspect that I won’t come across many captains who spend their nights off going to bars and picking up loose women.

Feeling the engine coming to a slow stop, my thoughts revert back to the present. Opening the door I jump out taking in my surroundings. A small stucco bungalow has smoke billowing out its back window. “Jones, Dodd, inch and a half…round the back.” I heard myself yelling. 

A woman comes running towards me, “I’m not sure if Steve and Marnie are still in the house or not. They live here. Marnie’s pregnant! You have to do something!” 

“Ma’am, thank-you for your help. We’ll do everything we can.” I place my hands on the woman’s shoulders and gently guide her away from the house and the engine, directing her across the street. “Now, please stay away from the fire.” 

Trotting back towards the engine, I glance quickly towards Avery, he’s doing his job with nothing but the utmost professionalism and I suddenly swell with pride. This is my engineer. He doesn’t need any guidance. I realize I’m not going to have to tell him to make sure the bystanders stay back and away from the house. He’ll look after things out here. I grab my SCABA gear and pull out my linemen’s as well, taking one in each hand. 

Running towards the house, rounding the corner and entering the backyard, I see my linemen. Each has a hose in his hand. They’re about to enter the house when I yell, “We may have a couple still in the house.” As they place their respective hoses on the ground, I hand each of them their gear and help Jones when he struggles with his straps. They part to allow my entrance. There’s an unspoken rule in the department, stating the captain is the first man in and the last man out. This is my first time being first man in. I’m scared. I haven’t entered a burning building in many years. The heat is almost over whelming. I’d forgotten how stifling it could get. I give a small prayer of thanks to my gear. 

“Dodd, take the right, Jones, the left” I head towards the kitchen, feeling pretty sure I’ll find the source of the fire there, since the smoke is heaviest here. Entering the small room, I see what was once a cooking pot on the gas stove. Flames are shooting up around it like there’s no tomorrow. Unfortunately, not only are the curtains now on fire, but the cupboards are starting to smoke as well. 

“CAP, I found someone.” I hear Jones muffled voice over the roar of the fire. 

Reaching Jones, I realize we’re going to need a squad. “Engine 126…we need a squad.” 

My H-T crackles with Avery’s response, “10-4, Cap.” 

Dodd approaches, “Nothing, Cap.” 

“Let’s get outta here.” 

We take our victim outside and carry her to the engine. Avery sees our approach and already has a blanket spread with oxygen waiting. Jones places the woman on the blanket while Dodd starts to place the oxygen on her. Once Dodd starts the oxygen supply, I regroup. 

“Let’s go, Dave.” 

Jones and I return to the hoses’ at the back of the house and start the battle of putting this fire out. As we start to enter the house, I hear the sound of a squad’s sirens in the distance. I feel relief. I can’t imagine what it’s going to be like working out of a station that doesn’t have a squad. In my opinion, every station in the city should house paramedics. I’ve learned first hand what an invaluable asset they are. 

The fire turns out to be an easy one to extinguish. After the paramedics' arrival, Dodd shows up to help his partner and me. After instructing my men on their clean up, I leave to see if the paramedics need any help.  They’re in the process of placing the woman on the ambulance gurney and strapping her in. She’s conscious now and looks terrified. I can empathize. As my first response as a captain starts winding down, my adrenaline level starts to drop and I’m feeling a bit shaky. 

Nodding towards the house, I approach Avery, “Dave and Jim could use your help.” 

Looking up from his instrument panel, Avery responds with a, “Sure, Cap.” 

Watching my engineer walking towards the house, I failed to notice one of the paramedic’s take up residence beside me. I feel a hands gentle pat between my shoulder blades. “How ya doing, Cap?” 

Hearing John Gage’s voice and feeling his hand slip from my back brings a smile to my face. “Pretty good, John. How’s your victim?” 

“She’ll be okay, just a bit of smoke inhalation. Given her condition, we’re taking her in just to be on the safe side.” 

“She say if her husband was in the house?” 

“Says he left for work half an hour ago.” 

“Good. You should get going, pick that partner of yours up.” 

Walking towards the squad, “Ya, take care, Mike…uh…Cap.” Johnny throws over his shoulder. 

Hearing Johnny use my name brings a smile to my face again, “You too, Johnny. Say hi to the guys.” 

“Will do.” Johnny climbs into the squad and turns the engine over. As he pulls away from the curb, he gives a little wave out the window. 

I stand watching the little red truck until it turns the corner. Making my way towards our engine, I bend over and pick up our yellow blanket, fold it and place it into its proper compartment. Seeing my fellow station mate makes me remember how fortunate I am to be doing the job I do. I work in an environment, which breeds teamwork and strong friendships. As captain I’ll be setting the tone for my men. What kind of work relationships we have. Heck, I can even help the development of friendships away from the station as well. It’s up to me. It’s my job to make sure these men feel like brothers. That’s an enormous burden, but one I’m more than willing to embrace. 

Closing the compartment door, I turn towards the house and hurry to join my men with the task of cleaning up. I know as captain I only have to over see this task, but I decided when I took the exam that I was going to be a hands on captain. I never want my men to think I’m asking them to do something I would never do myself.

As I enter the house’s kitchen, three heads turn in my direction. “How’s it going?” I ask. 

“It’s a pretty straight forward job. Nothing’s popping up. I think we can be assured it’s out,” Jones responds. 

“Mind if I take a look?” 

“Sure.” 

Reaching into the hole in the wall, I pull a piece of it away to expose the guts of the house. After taking a few minutes to inspect what my men had already, I pat Avery on the back and exclaim, “Let’s get back to the barn.” 

“Good” 

“Right, Cap” 

“Sure thing…” Were the responses I received.

We make our way back to the station in silence. I have no idea what each of my men is thinking. For my part, I’m thinking about what a great start to an incredible journey I just had. After Avery backs the rig safely into the apparatus bay, I climb down, place my turnout coat on the side mirror and make my way into my office to complete the paper work for this, my first run. As I step foot into the room, I over hear Jones saying, “Cap Stoker’s an okay guy. We had nothing to worry about.” 

“Worried! Who was worried?” Dodd cried out. 

“You’re kidding, right? All week long you’ve been going on, wondering what the new cap would be like!” Avery howled. 

“I did not! As I recall, it was you who said the new cap better not step on your toes. That you, and no one else, was in charge of the rig.”  

“Shh, he’ll hear you.” 

Dodd and Jones laughed as the sound of the telephone ringing could be heard in the background. 

I sit down at my desk, shaking my head and take out a sheet of paper, placing it into the typewriter on my desk. “Great, my own bunch of twits! The manual didn’t say anything about how to deal with this.” 

 “CAP, phone.” 

“I’ll take it in here.” 

“Station 126, Captain Stoker speaking.” 

“Hey, Mike. Just thought I’d give you a quick call, welcome you to the ranks,” Captain Hank Stanley responds.

“Cap, just the man I need to speak to.” I smile as I realize that Captain Mike Stoker has finally arrived.

Author’s notes: Thanks go out to Audrey for sharing her thoughts and her beta. Jill, for her laughs and encouragement, and a handful of others (you know who you are) for your encouragement as well. ~ Sharon

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