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  The Ladder Company cuts a large hole in the roof, creating an escape route for hot gases.
   

It was a hot and muggy August morning as I walked into the fire station to begin my twenty-four-hour shift. I drive the ladder truck at Fire Station 16 in Virginia Beach, Virginia.

One of the most important jobs of the Ladder Company is to cut holes in the roofs of burning buildings so the hot smoke and gases can escape. After the smoke escapes, the Engine Company can see better to quickly locate and extinguish the fire.

The first thing I did that morning was to talk to the ladder-truck driver from the previous shift. We talked about the calls his shift had gone on and about a minor equipment repair he’d made.

I jumped into the driver’s seat, checked the seat belt and mirrors, turned on the red lights, and began my equipment check. The driver is responsible for making sure that everything about his truck, from the siren to the oxygen bottles, is in place and working, ready for a call.

Afterward I walked into the kitchen and sat at the table with the seven other fire fighters. The captain began telling us what needed to be accomplished during our shift.

Suddenly a voice came over the fire radio, and the room fell silent.

“Battalion 1, Engine 3, Engine 16, Engine 20, Ladder 16. House fire, 400 block Gimbert Place. Caller reports flames visible. Time out, 0845 hours.”

I wrote the address on my hand (a piece of paper can get lost) and hurried out of the kitchen with the rest of the fire fighters. I paused at the map on the wall to find the street. Jon, who drives Engine 16 (our pumper), checked the map to locate the closest fire hydrant.

As the others pulled on their fire coats, boots, and gloves, Jon and I started our trucks. We all rolled out of the station into rush- hour traffic.

  As the smoke lifts, the Engine Comapny goes in to attack the fire.
   

As we neared the fire, we could see a column of dark brown smoke. We had a “worker.” Larry leaned back and yelled, “We’ve got a big one!” to Mike, who was in the jump seat.

The pumper stopped at the fire hydrant. I drove on to the house. Thick black smoke was puffing out of the eaves of the roof and from all the windows.

Larry and Mike jumped off the truck and grabbed chain saws to cut a hole in the roof. I put on my mask and air tank and picked up a flashlight. My task was to go inside, find the electrical panel, and cut off all the circuit breakers to protect us from electric shocks when we sprayed water.

I hurried around the building to locate where the electrical wires entered the house. Then I put on my gloves, dropped to my knees to get below the hot smoke and gases, and crawled through the front door just as the fire fighters were dragging the hoses up to the door.

I searched for victims as I made my way to the electrical panel even though we had been told that no one was inside. We do a continual search for victims on every call, using flashlights and feeling with our hands. Our priorities are always the same: save lives first; save property second.

At the electrical panel, I turned off every switch. I could hear Mike and Larry on the roof with their saws. As soon as they made a hole, the hot gases and smoke began to lift. The Engine Company found the fire in the living room and opened the hoses. I heard the hiss of water turning to steam.

Above our heads, we could hear a fire raging. Since it burns upward, fire often advances into the structure above it, and this one had already traveled up into the second floor.

We all looked for the stairs. I found them and crawled up into the hot, smoky darkness with my flashlight. I could feel the temperature rising as I climbed.

At the top, a wall of fire faced me. I yelled into my radio, “Get up here with that fire hose!” Seconds later, I heard the other fire fighters coming up the steps, and I felt the nozzle bump the back of my legs. I reached down and grabbed it, pulled it up to my chest, pulled back on the handle, and opened it fully. As the gush of water hit the flames, the hallway went from an orange blaze to total blackness.

  Any "hot spots" are completely extinguished before we leave.
   

“Are you ready to advance?” I yelled. Together we crawled down the hallway, searching each room and opening the nozzle to extinguish any “hot spots”—places that were still smoldering. The fire was out.

We crawled out of the house. A fresh crew had arrived, and they took over as we rested on the lawn. I slipped out of my coat, which was dripping with sweat. Someone handed me a cup of water.

Later, back inside, we made sure the fire was completely extinguished by tearing out walls and plasterboard to expose all the charred wood and soak it down with water. When we reached fresh, uncharred wood, we knew the fire had traveled no farther.

Back at the firehouse, we cleaned the equipment, rolled the hoses, filled the pumpers, and washed the trucks.

After lunch we ran several minor calls, performed a practice drill, inspected a few buildings—and at six o’clock we all sat down for a big hot dinner cooked by Larry.

At ten o’clock I made my bunk and went to bed. We ran a few more calls that night—a few medical calls, a fire alarm in a warehouse, and a car fire—but they weren’t serious.

At eight o’clock the next morning, with my truck in ready-to-go condition, I talked to the oncoming driver about the calls we’d had. Then I said good-bye to the others and drove home. I had two days off to rest up, but I couldn’t wait to get back . . . fighting fires is what I do.

 

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