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- Apr 23, 2018
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DCFD; Part 4
Smiley, a new lid and Stuffy
During my day tours I arrive extra early, although change of tours is at 0900, it is not uncommon to have guys reporting for duty by 0700. The technicians relieve the going off duty technician, but for other firefighters your two options are either ?run the pipe/line?, the preferable option or perform ?Layout? and thus become the back-up firefighter, the not-so-desirable position. Basically, whoever gets in first among the firefighters usually relieves the going off duty lineman and will ?run the line? for the shift. There is no ?roll call? assignment. Since DCFD firefighters wear their uniform to and from the firehouse, you sign into the log book, put the other firefighter?s gear away, replace with yours, and you?re ready to go.
After relieving the night tour group the first order of business is to procure breakfast. Since relief is usually accomplished by 0800 hours, firehouses in DC have breakfast in lieu of lunch. Being from ?New Yawk?, I am introduced to ?scrapple?, ?grits? and ?SOS?. I will also enjoy the best pancakes I have ever had that was made by one of our Lieutenants. Lieutenant John Hammond covered our Platoon when Captain Mac moved on for promotion. Lt. John made what he called ?Hunters? pancakes. For his pancake mixture he used a can of beer instead of water, sour cream and baking soda. To this day, I have never tasted pancakes as light, moist and fluffy...the yeast in the beer is the secret! Oh yeah, he topped it off with warm blueberry compote.
Lt. John Hammond, not only made the best pancakes in the world, but a fine gentleman and superior fire officer I ever worked with...more stories about him soon! We still stay in touch, too!
Recently I have become the ?Coffee Club? honcho. Since many members in the firehouse do not drink coffee, the house tax does not cover the purchase of coffee, this arrangement goes for many of the DC firehouses as well. As the coffee honcho I maintain a logbook and collect $5 a week from members that drink coffee and make sure we have plenty of coffee stocked. This day I volunteer to procure breakfast at the nearby Safeway supermarket that is one block away from the firehouse, an alleyway between the firehouse and supermarket makes it a short walk. There I?ll pick up breakfast items for today's shift and a case of ?Chock Full o'Nuts? coffee for the coffee club.
a young JohhnyGage sitting in front of quarters.
Across the street from the firehouse is a private half-way house for special needs adults. There are about ten senior residents that reside in the converted brownstone styled home. The residents cannot wander far from the property, they mostly shuffle up and down the sidewalk in front of the home. However, a few are allowed to cross the street to the firehouse where there is a coin operated soda machine towards the back of quarters. And like clockwork two of the residents march robot like to the rear of the firehouse for their fifty cent sugar fix, rain, sleet or shine like a moth attracted to light. The two start early morning...during the course of the day they may make four or five determined pilgrimages for the bottled soda. the first is ?Smiley?, he doesn?t talk, he is about fifty years old, very well dressed, always sporting a tie and sweater, sorta like Mr. Rogers character, and always in a happy mood with a fixed grin. Like Mr. Rogers he has the same sneakers, too. Only problem is that unwittingly, Smiley walks up behind you without making a peep, there he will silently stand with his hands folded behind his back rocking on his feet. Eventually you become aware of a ?presence?, turn around...jump, blindsided and startled... ?Jesus, Smiley make some noise!?. Once he has your attention, he moves on to get his soda. If it is early morning when the bay doors are down, you?ll eventually notice a human shadow standing at the front door of the firehouse where Smiley peers through the wired window until recognized, he doesn?t bother to knock. The second character is a heavy woman that always wears a frock dress in anytype weather. She is robotic, does not make eye contact or noise, when the apparatus doors are open, she just marches through the firehouse, drops two quarters into the soda machine, punches the same soda selection, retrieves the bottled soda, does an about face and marches out. At times when the bay doors are closed, she will stand in front of them until they are open and then march by. It does not matter if you are drilling, doing hose change, hosting a school class, or washing the rigs...both God Blessed characters are committed to fetching that soda pop at all costs.
Another character from the halfway house does not come into the firehouse, we call him ?Captain Jack?, the seafaring type captain. He wears an old blue sailor hat with the gold lifesaver and rope embroidered to the front. He paces back and forth across the street and only stops to hand roll a cigarette. It is not uncommon for us to sit in front of the firehouse between runs in the late afternoon or early evening. But when the Captain stops pacing, we all watch...he holds his left hand palm up with a piece of cigarette rolling paper, with his right hand he distributes the right amount of tobacco onto the paper, then he magically ?rolls? a perfect cigarette by just manipulating his left hand, licks to seal the paper with his tongue. The act is amazing to watch. That old salty codger!
***********
Today I am putting my new leather New Yorker helmet into service. When our class was sworn in and we received our firefighting turnout equipment, all items were distributed new except our MSA plastic helmet. I received an MSA plastic helmet with plastic frontpiece that had a Washington DC Fire Dept badge decal in the center, over the badge another arching clear decal that said in black ?FIREFIGHTER?. On the side of all DCFD?s helmets are reflective stencils with your company number. Engine Companies received a white reflective background with red lettering that stated ?E-21?. Truck companies had a green background with white lettering and Rescue companies had a black background with white lettering.
If you bought a leather helmet, you were given the option of wearing it instead of the MSA job. My helmet was given to me as a parting gift from the volunteer fire company I was with on Long Island. During my time employed by NYC EMS I had moved closer to the city line cutting down my commute from my hometown. There I joined the local volunteer fire department that bordered Queens, NY called Valley Stream, Truck Company 1, The company had a Mack Tower Ladder and a good group of young eligible future FDNY firefighters, I immediately felt right at home. I was with the VSFD for about a year when Washington DC Fire Department called early August 1979 and told me I was scheduled to be appointed. At the time Truck Company 1?s policy was to purchase a leather New Yorker helmet and present it to you as a parting gift.
The helmet was purchased by a VSFD member and friend of mine who worked for a local firefighting supply company named Mike Moran. Just before I left NY and headed south, at a local gin-joint with VSFD members attending my ?hiring? celebration...Mike presented me with a brand spanking new black leather helmet with Bourke shields and a Black frontpiece that had a blank insert. Along with the helmet I received a signed ?Good Luck? card a little cash and a fine going away party that was well attended and very memorable.
E 21 Third Due apartment house fire "well off", term DCFD used instead of "JOB".
***************
I am now off probation, and at this point I have almost two years on with the DCFD. It is early morning and through the firehouse bay doors, I can see the red streaks of the sun as it is about to break through the dark sky, the ?crack of dawn?. I have been on watch for almost three long, boring hours, the only thing that keeps me awake and company is the vocal alarm announcing runs to other companies throughout the city. I could have awaken the other firefighter that would have the final watch... but what's the sense, now, both of us will be up. At the desk, I am wearing my bunker pants and knee high boots with a short sleeve sweatshirt as the apparatus floor is very cool this December morning, wearing my turnout pants is custom to DC firefighters, this will also afford me a quick response... I decide it's time to make a fresh pot of coffee for me and the incoming troops. In the kitchen, I'm careful to spoon out the correct amount of coffee into the filter. Too little coffee and the pot is weak, too much and the pot becomes bitter and strong. I eagerly await the first cup, it seems to take forever... After the final drip I grab a nice hot cup and head back to the desk at the front of the firehouse, it is close to the time that the fresh troops will be reporting in for their day tour. The first sip of coffee is remarkable, a simple pleasure of life. The night has been very quiet and there is peace and tranquility in the air, just the radiator on the apparatus floor hisses on occasion. Time for another sip of joe?.
The first firefighter through the firehouse door is ?Stuffy? Wilkens. He greets me and about to sign into the journal affecting my relief since I?m running the line...Simultaneously the vocal alarm blurts??BOOOP, BOOOP?, the desk computer starts to ?chirp? and the department phone rings (very rarely does the department phone ring so early in the morning. But a ?light-duty? member from E 21 is assigned to the Communications Office and gives the firehouse a ?heads up call? when he is sure we will be going to work)..The vocal alarm comes alive; ?BOX ALARM ENGINE 21, 9, 11, 28 TRUCK 9, 6 RESCUE SQUAD 2 and CHIEF 5; RESPOND 2611 ADAMS MILL RD FOR FIRE IN THE BUILDING?... I press the acknowledge button that goes back to the communication center telling them we are responding then bang the gong four or five times to awake the troops and activate the lights in the bunkroom, then quickly answer the department phone; ?Engine 21; Firefighter Gage?? on the other end is our light-duty member; ?You?re going to work!?....I slam the phone down and announce to the WD and officer the address and information, the box location is at the end of the street and we will be there within seconds. From peaceful serenity, the firehouse explodes with activity.
After I finally turn out the company, I run to my spot on the apparatus where my gear is in standby to ?run the line?... however, incoming firefighter ?Stuffy? has grabbed his gear and tossed my gear on the floor, ?I got it? he states as he mounts the rig in my place... ?I?ll put your gear away when we get back.''... He is relieving me on the line, snookered!...Now, all night long, anyone who wants to put out fire, yearns for this moment and I?m now I?m going to be shut out, and quite frankly a little pissed, but I?m not going to make a scene. ?That?s the way the cookie crumbles? as they say?
As the engines fire up I grab my gear from the floor, I remember that the front seat of the pumper is open!... Wallah! I?ll ride with the pumper! The members slide the poles and scurry to their position as the WD fires up the rig and the company turns out. One block from the firehouse is the location, the building is a large six story apartment house, the rigs whip out of quarters, it has not been a full minute. And, since the location is just up the block from the firehouse the other companies will take a little time to arrive... in the meantime the line is being prepared to be stretched by ?Stuffy?. On the back of the Engine are three pre-connect lines of inch and a half hose. There is the three hundred fifty foot pre-connect, the two hundred pre connect and the one hundred fifty feet of pre-connect. A single firefighter can stretch the two hundred and one fifty pre-connect by throwing the load over a shoulder, advance to fire by letting the lengths peel off. However, the three hundred fifty requires two firefighters to employ the line.
The wagon pulls up to the location and the pumper locates a nearby hydrant to pump from, but oddly, nothing is showing. ?Stuffy? goes to the backstep and shoulders half of the three hundred fifty feet load of inch and a half, while the layout firefighter shoulders the other half with anticipation of stretching to the top floor, the officer and two firefighters stretch to the front of the building...All of a sudden, a couple of single pane windows on the first floor burst and erupt with fire, a flashover has occurred. Two windows on the first floor now push out bright billowing orange flames, the first floor apartment is ?well off? (the term DCFD uses to define a ?job?). The engine officer now realizes that they have stretched way ?too much? hose for a fire not more than a length or two from the apparatus and tells Stuffy to drop the folds.
I?m watching this confusion unfold not far from the backstep of the wagon...I previously donned the pumper drivers SCBA and made sure the whole bed of three hundred fifty feet of hose clears, now I?m standing by just below the one hundred fifty feet of pre-connect, just in the right spot... The engine officer sees me, ?Start that 150!? ...with that I shoulder the load and proceed to the front of the steps...of course firefighter ?Stuffy? is trying to pry the lengths and nozzle from my hands. But I got a solid grip! I say with determination and conviction...?Maybe tomorrow, but not today?
Into the vestibule the first due truck has now arrived and gaining forcible entry, on the apartment door...once opened, the vestibule is now banking down with black, angry, hot smoke...with the door popped, the hose-line swells with water. Stuffy is my ?back up? much to his chagrin with the engine officer beside me...I crack the nozzle handle to expel the rush of compressed air and turn the nozzle tip to straight stream (even though proby school professed ?narrow fog?), being the FDNY buff that I was, I was a firm believer of straight stream. Now, with the powerful water flowing, inch by inch the officer and I crawl methodically into the blazing apartment, the hot steam enveloping and stinging us through our heavy gear. Ahead of us looks like a blazing sun of flame, I swept the straight stream in a tight clockwise circle. The fire was super hot and not letting up much, we encountered another room to the left completely ablaze...I turned the nozzle into that room to knock down the fire as the extreme heat continued to shroud us, I can feel the heat compressing through my turnout coat and bunker pants. Recently I purchased a hood, and was thankful that I now had that covering my ears as they were scorching through the hood protection... Inch by inch the boss and I moved forward on our knees as a team, his confident remarks supporting my advance??you got it Johnny, another inch...yeah, you got it...how ?bout another inch, that?s it keep movin? in, steady now, almost there?... The fire was remarkably hot, everything in the room was consumed with a bright orange flame, ventilation was limited to a few small windows, with the reach of the straight stream, slow and steady advancement we finally knocked down all visible fire. Whew, it was now time to take a blow, a sense of relief comes over us, except for Stuffy, he is not too happy that I got the ?pipe?...well, maybe tomorrow, but not today!
Typical DC fire.
Engine 21, "Alley Rats" operating in the alley as usual.
Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed! Next DCFD Truck work! KMG-365
Smiley, a new lid and Stuffy
During my day tours I arrive extra early, although change of tours is at 0900, it is not uncommon to have guys reporting for duty by 0700. The technicians relieve the going off duty technician, but for other firefighters your two options are either ?run the pipe/line?, the preferable option or perform ?Layout? and thus become the back-up firefighter, the not-so-desirable position. Basically, whoever gets in first among the firefighters usually relieves the going off duty lineman and will ?run the line? for the shift. There is no ?roll call? assignment. Since DCFD firefighters wear their uniform to and from the firehouse, you sign into the log book, put the other firefighter?s gear away, replace with yours, and you?re ready to go.
After relieving the night tour group the first order of business is to procure breakfast. Since relief is usually accomplished by 0800 hours, firehouses in DC have breakfast in lieu of lunch. Being from ?New Yawk?, I am introduced to ?scrapple?, ?grits? and ?SOS?. I will also enjoy the best pancakes I have ever had that was made by one of our Lieutenants. Lieutenant John Hammond covered our Platoon when Captain Mac moved on for promotion. Lt. John made what he called ?Hunters? pancakes. For his pancake mixture he used a can of beer instead of water, sour cream and baking soda. To this day, I have never tasted pancakes as light, moist and fluffy...the yeast in the beer is the secret! Oh yeah, he topped it off with warm blueberry compote.
Lt. John Hammond, not only made the best pancakes in the world, but a fine gentleman and superior fire officer I ever worked with...more stories about him soon! We still stay in touch, too!
Recently I have become the ?Coffee Club? honcho. Since many members in the firehouse do not drink coffee, the house tax does not cover the purchase of coffee, this arrangement goes for many of the DC firehouses as well. As the coffee honcho I maintain a logbook and collect $5 a week from members that drink coffee and make sure we have plenty of coffee stocked. This day I volunteer to procure breakfast at the nearby Safeway supermarket that is one block away from the firehouse, an alleyway between the firehouse and supermarket makes it a short walk. There I?ll pick up breakfast items for today's shift and a case of ?Chock Full o'Nuts? coffee for the coffee club.
a young JohhnyGage sitting in front of quarters.
Across the street from the firehouse is a private half-way house for special needs adults. There are about ten senior residents that reside in the converted brownstone styled home. The residents cannot wander far from the property, they mostly shuffle up and down the sidewalk in front of the home. However, a few are allowed to cross the street to the firehouse where there is a coin operated soda machine towards the back of quarters. And like clockwork two of the residents march robot like to the rear of the firehouse for their fifty cent sugar fix, rain, sleet or shine like a moth attracted to light. The two start early morning...during the course of the day they may make four or five determined pilgrimages for the bottled soda. the first is ?Smiley?, he doesn?t talk, he is about fifty years old, very well dressed, always sporting a tie and sweater, sorta like Mr. Rogers character, and always in a happy mood with a fixed grin. Like Mr. Rogers he has the same sneakers, too. Only problem is that unwittingly, Smiley walks up behind you without making a peep, there he will silently stand with his hands folded behind his back rocking on his feet. Eventually you become aware of a ?presence?, turn around...jump, blindsided and startled... ?Jesus, Smiley make some noise!?. Once he has your attention, he moves on to get his soda. If it is early morning when the bay doors are down, you?ll eventually notice a human shadow standing at the front door of the firehouse where Smiley peers through the wired window until recognized, he doesn?t bother to knock. The second character is a heavy woman that always wears a frock dress in anytype weather. She is robotic, does not make eye contact or noise, when the apparatus doors are open, she just marches through the firehouse, drops two quarters into the soda machine, punches the same soda selection, retrieves the bottled soda, does an about face and marches out. At times when the bay doors are closed, she will stand in front of them until they are open and then march by. It does not matter if you are drilling, doing hose change, hosting a school class, or washing the rigs...both God Blessed characters are committed to fetching that soda pop at all costs.
Another character from the halfway house does not come into the firehouse, we call him ?Captain Jack?, the seafaring type captain. He wears an old blue sailor hat with the gold lifesaver and rope embroidered to the front. He paces back and forth across the street and only stops to hand roll a cigarette. It is not uncommon for us to sit in front of the firehouse between runs in the late afternoon or early evening. But when the Captain stops pacing, we all watch...he holds his left hand palm up with a piece of cigarette rolling paper, with his right hand he distributes the right amount of tobacco onto the paper, then he magically ?rolls? a perfect cigarette by just manipulating his left hand, licks to seal the paper with his tongue. The act is amazing to watch. That old salty codger!
***********
Today I am putting my new leather New Yorker helmet into service. When our class was sworn in and we received our firefighting turnout equipment, all items were distributed new except our MSA plastic helmet. I received an MSA plastic helmet with plastic frontpiece that had a Washington DC Fire Dept badge decal in the center, over the badge another arching clear decal that said in black ?FIREFIGHTER?. On the side of all DCFD?s helmets are reflective stencils with your company number. Engine Companies received a white reflective background with red lettering that stated ?E-21?. Truck companies had a green background with white lettering and Rescue companies had a black background with white lettering.
If you bought a leather helmet, you were given the option of wearing it instead of the MSA job. My helmet was given to me as a parting gift from the volunteer fire company I was with on Long Island. During my time employed by NYC EMS I had moved closer to the city line cutting down my commute from my hometown. There I joined the local volunteer fire department that bordered Queens, NY called Valley Stream, Truck Company 1, The company had a Mack Tower Ladder and a good group of young eligible future FDNY firefighters, I immediately felt right at home. I was with the VSFD for about a year when Washington DC Fire Department called early August 1979 and told me I was scheduled to be appointed. At the time Truck Company 1?s policy was to purchase a leather New Yorker helmet and present it to you as a parting gift.
The helmet was purchased by a VSFD member and friend of mine who worked for a local firefighting supply company named Mike Moran. Just before I left NY and headed south, at a local gin-joint with VSFD members attending my ?hiring? celebration...Mike presented me with a brand spanking new black leather helmet with Bourke shields and a Black frontpiece that had a blank insert. Along with the helmet I received a signed ?Good Luck? card a little cash and a fine going away party that was well attended and very memorable.
E 21 Third Due apartment house fire "well off", term DCFD used instead of "JOB".
***************
I am now off probation, and at this point I have almost two years on with the DCFD. It is early morning and through the firehouse bay doors, I can see the red streaks of the sun as it is about to break through the dark sky, the ?crack of dawn?. I have been on watch for almost three long, boring hours, the only thing that keeps me awake and company is the vocal alarm announcing runs to other companies throughout the city. I could have awaken the other firefighter that would have the final watch... but what's the sense, now, both of us will be up. At the desk, I am wearing my bunker pants and knee high boots with a short sleeve sweatshirt as the apparatus floor is very cool this December morning, wearing my turnout pants is custom to DC firefighters, this will also afford me a quick response... I decide it's time to make a fresh pot of coffee for me and the incoming troops. In the kitchen, I'm careful to spoon out the correct amount of coffee into the filter. Too little coffee and the pot is weak, too much and the pot becomes bitter and strong. I eagerly await the first cup, it seems to take forever... After the final drip I grab a nice hot cup and head back to the desk at the front of the firehouse, it is close to the time that the fresh troops will be reporting in for their day tour. The first sip of coffee is remarkable, a simple pleasure of life. The night has been very quiet and there is peace and tranquility in the air, just the radiator on the apparatus floor hisses on occasion. Time for another sip of joe?.
The first firefighter through the firehouse door is ?Stuffy? Wilkens. He greets me and about to sign into the journal affecting my relief since I?m running the line...Simultaneously the vocal alarm blurts??BOOOP, BOOOP?, the desk computer starts to ?chirp? and the department phone rings (very rarely does the department phone ring so early in the morning. But a ?light-duty? member from E 21 is assigned to the Communications Office and gives the firehouse a ?heads up call? when he is sure we will be going to work)..The vocal alarm comes alive; ?BOX ALARM ENGINE 21, 9, 11, 28 TRUCK 9, 6 RESCUE SQUAD 2 and CHIEF 5; RESPOND 2611 ADAMS MILL RD FOR FIRE IN THE BUILDING?... I press the acknowledge button that goes back to the communication center telling them we are responding then bang the gong four or five times to awake the troops and activate the lights in the bunkroom, then quickly answer the department phone; ?Engine 21; Firefighter Gage?? on the other end is our light-duty member; ?You?re going to work!?....I slam the phone down and announce to the WD and officer the address and information, the box location is at the end of the street and we will be there within seconds. From peaceful serenity, the firehouse explodes with activity.
After I finally turn out the company, I run to my spot on the apparatus where my gear is in standby to ?run the line?... however, incoming firefighter ?Stuffy? has grabbed his gear and tossed my gear on the floor, ?I got it? he states as he mounts the rig in my place... ?I?ll put your gear away when we get back.''... He is relieving me on the line, snookered!...Now, all night long, anyone who wants to put out fire, yearns for this moment and I?m now I?m going to be shut out, and quite frankly a little pissed, but I?m not going to make a scene. ?That?s the way the cookie crumbles? as they say?
As the engines fire up I grab my gear from the floor, I remember that the front seat of the pumper is open!... Wallah! I?ll ride with the pumper! The members slide the poles and scurry to their position as the WD fires up the rig and the company turns out. One block from the firehouse is the location, the building is a large six story apartment house, the rigs whip out of quarters, it has not been a full minute. And, since the location is just up the block from the firehouse the other companies will take a little time to arrive... in the meantime the line is being prepared to be stretched by ?Stuffy?. On the back of the Engine are three pre-connect lines of inch and a half hose. There is the three hundred fifty foot pre-connect, the two hundred pre connect and the one hundred fifty feet of pre-connect. A single firefighter can stretch the two hundred and one fifty pre-connect by throwing the load over a shoulder, advance to fire by letting the lengths peel off. However, the three hundred fifty requires two firefighters to employ the line.
The wagon pulls up to the location and the pumper locates a nearby hydrant to pump from, but oddly, nothing is showing. ?Stuffy? goes to the backstep and shoulders half of the three hundred fifty feet load of inch and a half, while the layout firefighter shoulders the other half with anticipation of stretching to the top floor, the officer and two firefighters stretch to the front of the building...All of a sudden, a couple of single pane windows on the first floor burst and erupt with fire, a flashover has occurred. Two windows on the first floor now push out bright billowing orange flames, the first floor apartment is ?well off? (the term DCFD uses to define a ?job?). The engine officer now realizes that they have stretched way ?too much? hose for a fire not more than a length or two from the apparatus and tells Stuffy to drop the folds.
I?m watching this confusion unfold not far from the backstep of the wagon...I previously donned the pumper drivers SCBA and made sure the whole bed of three hundred fifty feet of hose clears, now I?m standing by just below the one hundred fifty feet of pre-connect, just in the right spot... The engine officer sees me, ?Start that 150!? ...with that I shoulder the load and proceed to the front of the steps...of course firefighter ?Stuffy? is trying to pry the lengths and nozzle from my hands. But I got a solid grip! I say with determination and conviction...?Maybe tomorrow, but not today?
Into the vestibule the first due truck has now arrived and gaining forcible entry, on the apartment door...once opened, the vestibule is now banking down with black, angry, hot smoke...with the door popped, the hose-line swells with water. Stuffy is my ?back up? much to his chagrin with the engine officer beside me...I crack the nozzle handle to expel the rush of compressed air and turn the nozzle tip to straight stream (even though proby school professed ?narrow fog?), being the FDNY buff that I was, I was a firm believer of straight stream. Now, with the powerful water flowing, inch by inch the officer and I crawl methodically into the blazing apartment, the hot steam enveloping and stinging us through our heavy gear. Ahead of us looks like a blazing sun of flame, I swept the straight stream in a tight clockwise circle. The fire was super hot and not letting up much, we encountered another room to the left completely ablaze...I turned the nozzle into that room to knock down the fire as the extreme heat continued to shroud us, I can feel the heat compressing through my turnout coat and bunker pants. Recently I purchased a hood, and was thankful that I now had that covering my ears as they were scorching through the hood protection... Inch by inch the boss and I moved forward on our knees as a team, his confident remarks supporting my advance??you got it Johnny, another inch...yeah, you got it...how ?bout another inch, that?s it keep movin? in, steady now, almost there?... The fire was remarkably hot, everything in the room was consumed with a bright orange flame, ventilation was limited to a few small windows, with the reach of the straight stream, slow and steady advancement we finally knocked down all visible fire. Whew, it was now time to take a blow, a sense of relief comes over us, except for Stuffy, he is not too happy that I got the ?pipe?...well, maybe tomorrow, but not today!
Typical DC fire.
Engine 21, "Alley Rats" operating in the alley as usual.
Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed! Next DCFD Truck work! KMG-365