There’s something about the tones. Regular people don’t hear it, and people new to the job are unable to pick it up, but the firefighters who have been around for a while hear it instantly. When “that” tone hits, instinct takes over.
“We’ve got a job!”
Before dispatch says a word, they drop whatever they were doing, hit the poles, take the stairs, open the doors, and converge on the apparatus like bears to honey.
Grown men and women, alive with anticipation and a glint in their eye roll through the streets—different stations, different trucks, different crews, and different missions all with the same objective; to get the job done. They are all on the same team; it’s the fire, or leak, or derailment or whatever it is that draws them together for battle. The fight is what creates the bond and makes the magic of the job come alive.
Each person in each crew has a job to do. Every crew must meet the objective, and every emergency depends on a controlled, well-trained, and experienced team working as one to get the job done. It’s hard work. It’s dirty. It’s exhausting.
And it is a blast.
Doing a job as important as firefighting, knowing the risk involved is very real, understanding that people as good, well-trained, and motivated can and do get killed…none of these things lessen the joy that is felt before and during our response. And once the job is done, and the adrenaline is gone, and the pain hits us we still enjoy every second of it. Packing hose in the middle of a freezing night with stiff turnout gear and frozen hair as the city sleeps is made bearable by the banter, the camaraderie, and the satisfaction that comes from doing the job, and doing it well.
And the quiet times between the mayhem?
We wait.
Our work lives are spent with our work families. We wait, argue, play, ignore each other, make meals, watch movies, clean up, rest, work, train, and wait some more. Knowing that we will never wait long for those tones to hit makes the waiting all the more precious. There is a state of alertness while on duty that puts a charge into everything we do. It is nearly impossible to be miserable once you are into the station groove. Taking out the trash, knowing that any second you could be strapping on a pack and pushing yourself to the limit, makes even that mundane chore kind of pleasant.
The job is a lot of things, and the greatest thing about the job is it’s a lot of fun. Knowing that our courage and ability has been tested and we have passed that test allows us the freedom to walk through our districts with pride and confidence. Knowing that the people around us are of like mind and spirit and will respond with the same gusto as ourselves creates a palpable energy. You can feel it in the rig under the lights and sirens as the distance between you and the smoke condition in the distance closes, and fire appears. It is in the pitch black hallway as you crawl toward the heat, in the bottle of air we breathe and the work we do.
Some people are fortunate and find work that is enjoyable. Others will tell you that if you can love your job you will never work another day in your life. And then there are the firefighters. They are the ones who do the dirtiest, most heartbreaking and exhausting work imaginable, break bones, breathe cancer-causing air, bleed, collapse and sometimes die. And at the end of the day, they firmly believe that theirs is the greatest job in the world.
People who haven’t lived it will never understand. How could they?
Michael Morse is a retired captain with the Providence (RI) Fire Department and the author of EMS by Fire: The Making of a Fire Medic, and a number of other books and articles pertaining to the fire service.
This commentary reflects the opinion of the author and does not necessarily reflect the opinions of Fire Engineering. It has not undergone Fire Engineering‘s peer-review process.
