More tales from the Hose Store :Firefighting in Winter

 I remember back in the 70’s seeing a photograph in  FIRE magazine (imaginative crowd are the firefighting fraternity) of a Fireman in Canada. It was obviously mid-winter and he was stood on a pavement (or sidewalk) directing a jet of water up onto what I imagine was a fire in an upper storey. He was dressed in a helmet and those thick canvassy overcoaty things that US Firemen used to wear along with gloves and welly boots. He had obviously been there a while however, because his face, beard, helmet, gloves and coat were covered in a thick layer of icicles that were also hanging from his hose and branchpipe. I remember thinking, apart from the thought that I would have tried to plug that hose leak, that I had never been that cold and could I have stood being that Fireman.

 Point one of course is that, even with the recent freeze in mind, we don’t get weather like that in the UK. The second thing though is that he was dressed for the weather. In England in the 70’s a Fireman was protected against very little. Tunics were plain serge with no lining or room for a sweater beneath and they were neither waterproof nor fireproof. Our only issued wet weather clothing was a navy blue ‘schoolboy’ mac that we were anyway forbidden to wear with fire kit. I remember many a cold winter night spent at traffic accidents at or near Scotch Corner with only a couple of layers of Damart vests and long-johns permitted as a concession to modern clothing. All different now of course.

 Firefighting in buildings in winter is a bit like taking a sauna with your clothes on. When you first arrive it is of course red-hot and you get roasted as you approach the flames. As you put the fire out it gets cooler but steamier and sweatier. When you finally put the fire out the cold winds blow through the holes and gaps and broken windows that you have made and you begin to freeze in your soaking wet serge. Particularly if some pi££ock who hasn’t been told to pack it in is still squirting you with ice-cold water from the street.

 Then comes the best bit. Pulling all the ceilings down to make sure the fire hasn’t hidden itself away somewhere and then it becomes dust, plaster and Drip…Drip…Drip…usually down your neck, for hours. Add to that the pint or so of cold water in each boot and the rivulets of ice water trickling past your wedding tackle.

 Visit the same Watch a couple of days later and you will hear only  sniffle… sniffle.. ATISHOO    ATISHOO !

 One last thing…when you look at your muscle-bound  Fireman Calendar for 2010…the above might explain why Fireman January has got such pointy nipples!

Ricky T Outhouse.