Report From Engine Co. 82 - Dennis Smith [40]
There is a long hall at the top of the stairs. The bearing wall which once separated the hall from the apartments is now a crumpled mass of plaster and metal lathe. I can see the rear wheel and the sprocket of a bicycle protruding from the debris. It’s a sad part of this business to see the ruins of what must once have been a child’s most valued possession. But I’m glad it’s only the bike. It’s much sadder when we have to dig the little owner of that valued possession out from under a mess like this. Fortunately, the occupants of this building all made it to safety, but each foot of the building will be searched nonetheless. I can remember finding the body of a man who died from heat exposure in a fire. We had been told that the man had moved out of the place, that he was living with his daughter. We found him in his pajamas, lying dead on the bathroom floor.
The smoke is heavy now, but it is broken by the wind pushing through the caved roof, and it is lifting. Our noses are running, even with the inconstant smoke, and we have to keep our heads low. Heat and smoke rise, so a fireman usually stays as close to the floor as possible.
Kelsey is on his stomach, and crawling through what was once a doorway on his left. Lieutenant Welch is beside him, directing the beam of his portable lamp before them. The nozzle is opened, and Kelsey is swinging it wildly, but with confidence. He pushes into the apartment rooms, slowly but progressively, killing the fire as he goes. Suddenly, he jerks up to his knees. He closes the nozzle, shoves it down his right boot, and reopens it. The water spills over the boot top.
“What’s the matter, Bill?” Knipps asks.
“I don’t know,” Kelsey answers. “I must have gotten something down my boot.”
“Did it burn ya?”
“I don’t know, but it hurts like hell.”
“Lemme take the line,” Knipps says, as he moves up.
“No, it’s all right. Let me make the next room.”
“C’mon take a blow. We have the whole goddam floor to go yet,” Knipps says, almost pulling the nozzle from Kelsey’s hands.
“Yeah, go take a blow Bill,” Lieutenant Welch says. “See how bad it’s burned.”
Kelsey has no choice now. He moves out, and I take my place behind Knipps. “Give me some more line,” Knipps yells. Carroll and Royce struggle to hump the hose in. We pass through what is remaining of the last two rooms. The bulk of the fire is extinguished, but there is still smoke coming from behind the walls by the window frames. A ladder company will have to rip holes in the wall so that we can get to the source of the smoke.
We can back out of these rooms for the time being. There is still fire in the other apartments. Knipps hands the nozzle back, and I hand it to Carroll. “It’s about time,” he smiles, and his teeth are emphasized against his smoke-darkened face. The floor is burned through in places, and Lieutenant Welch cautions Benny and Royce to be careful.
Vinny Royce is saying “That’s it, Benny, that’s it. Move in, move in,” but Benny is a seasoned firefighter, and needs no words of encouragement. He moves quickly in and out of rooms, over and under arched beams laying across their path, moving the nozzle in a circular motion as he goes.
Vinny, Lieutenant Welch, and Benny return to the hall, and are about to enter the last set of rooms. “I’ll take it now Ben,” I say.
“No, that’s okay. I can manage,” Benny replies. Benny is one of my closest friends, but he wouldn’t give the nozzle over to his mother if it meant a free trip to Ireland.
There is only one tactic for me to employ, and if it fails I’ll be boxed out of any action at this fire completely. “Listen Lou,” I say to Lieutenant Welch, “the easiest way to do this, probably, is to relieve each other on the nob.”
Lieutenant Welch smiles, and I can see he knows what’s going on. It doesn’t matter to him who has the nozzle, because he is next to the man all the time, and anyone in Engine 82 can do the job. “Dennis is right, Benny,” he says. “Let