Hidden under the shade of the Station 1 Firehouse Area Support Group – Kuwait, firemen conversed in the bays – news was exchanged; orders were assigned; training was announced.
At 8 a.m. around Kuwait, the scene is similar at the 10 firehouses under the ASG – Kuwait banner. With approximately 70 firemen employed over six different camps throughout Kuwait, communication is paramount to ensure safety during emergency responses. However, according to Gary French, a station captain at Station 1 fire department ASG – Kuwait, the most difficult aspect of the job lies outside the firehouse walls.
“The hardest part of our job is probably getting people outside of the department to get an understanding of what we do,” said French. “The stigma to overcome is that all we do is sit around, watch TV and don’t do anything all day.”
In initial edition of “The Daily Grind,” Third Army/USARCENT Public Affairs office decided to shed this stigma by embedding me inside the walls of the firehouse – from the intense training days to the life inside the bays.
Day One: June 10, 2012
I arrived at Station 1 Firehouse at 7:30 a.m.; a half-hour before roll-call and an hour and a half after the firehouse wake-up call. Firefighters performed last-minute cleaning duties while station captains exchanged information for the coming day.
At the 8 a.m. roll-call, station captains relayed fire truck assignments and announce today’s training, which was fire hose familiarization, a drop-ceiling simulation, and a search-and-rescue exercise.
After formation, I am informed that I have been assigned to the Heavy Rescue truck. A vehicle, which is appropriately nicknamed the “Tool Box,” holds 672 pieces of equipment – a number that is only magnified after taking a tour through each compartment.
“After roll-call we check out every piece of our apparatus to make sure it’s functioning; that it’s present,” said French, who is a 12-year veteran of the United States Air Force. “If there is a piece of equipment on the truck, we have or will train with it at some point during the month.”
Out of all the equipment on each of the trucks, none is as foreboding as the ladder (or aerial) on Ladder Truck 1. Standing at 77 feet, with a workable distance of 72 feet, the ladder serves multiple purposes in an emergency.
“We can use it for vertical ventilation, which gives us the chance to get to the top of a roof and ventilate the building by creating holes,” said Kenneth Burson, a station captain at Station 1 fire department Area Support Group – Kuwait. “The other capability the ladder has is to perform a technical-rope rescue such as when we gain a high-anchor point and repel down for water rescues.”
As intimidating as 77 feet sounded, the vulnerability I felt high above the firehouse created an overwhelming sense of respect for not only the apparatus but the courage of firemen. The muscle fibers in my forearms and fingers burned with tension. My grip on the rungs tattooed ridges into my palm. Despite being attached to the ladder with a harness, the prospect of moving no less entering a burning building seemed impossible.
“To us, it’s not chaos because we do this over and over again,” said French. “When we go to an emergency it’s our responsibility to remain calm and remain focused so that we can get something out of this emergency without chaos.”
However, as Colorado Spring, Colorado native Burson admitted, their composed demeanor is attainable through a respectful fear of fire.
“Anybody, on this job, that tells you when they go into a working fire that they are not afraid is lying,” said Burson. “In fact, to be perfectly honest, anyone that tells you they are not afraid; I don’t want to work with them because you have to have a healthy respect for the moment.”
Once back on the ground, I am given a full firemen’s uniform – boots, pants, jacket, gloves, hood and helmet. After several failed attempts at dressing in the 60-second time-limit, it is easy to understand what French explained as the “importance of repetition.”
“One of the things we do in the fire services is we always do everything the exact same way every time,” said French. “If we lose power on this base, and it’s completely black and we have to respond to an emergency; we know exactly how our turnouts are set up.”
After finally settling in the uniform, the firemen put me through an exercise with the fire hoses, which involves running and turning on the hose. Easy in theory, but moving in the oversized uniform is as stressful as it is awkward.
“The hose you used today would have two to three staffers for that kind of line,” said Burson, who further explained that the hose, used on a working fire, will release up to 130 pounds-per-square-inch of water. However, standing out the firehouse, I struggle in attempting to hold a hose pumped to 80 psi.
After lunch, Captain Burson, several firemen and I are brought to a training site across Camp Arifjan. The site, which is constructed out of several shipping compartments, is a mock-building for search-and-rescue simulations.
The first simulation, called the “drop-ceiling exercise,” forces a firefighter to crawl through a two-foot high, 25-foot long tube that is covered in cables and wires. If the idea of climbing inside of a tube with cables and wires did not sound claustrophobic enough, the entire task must be completed blind-folded in order to simulate the darkness of black smoke.
There I stood in the shipping compartment in my full-firemen uniform – plus a gas mask and oxygen tank – watching other firemen try to navigate their way through the tunnel. Watching attempt after attempt, it became obvious that getting temporarily stuck was inevitable. However, Burson explained that in those moments one must abstain from stress.
“Inaction is just as bad as the wrong action; just like being in the military, you have to put the stress to the back of your mind,” said Burson.
Conversely though, Burson admitted that there are moments in the emergency services when that is not always possible.
“For me personally, by far the toughest day I have had to deal with here was the day we found out we lost one of our own firefighters in a motor vehicle accident,” said Burson, who also worked on the site of the World Trade Center collapse after 9/11. “When you respond off-base to a motor vehicle accident; you do your job; you kind of put all the sights, the smells and all the emotion aside and deal with it afterwards. But when it’s one of your own it’s really hard to keep that emotion in the back of your mind.”
Minutes after exiting the tunnel, exasperated and disoriented, Cpt. Burson tells me to keep on the gear for the search-and-rescue portion. A simulation, which is also performed blindfolded, included two firemen entering the mock-building for an emergency rescue.
Despite a confused sense of direction and a waning endurance, my partner and I were able to navigate our way through the building to the victim.
“You don’t need to actually see what you’re doing because you can feel what you’re doing,” said Jeffrey Hernandez, station captain at Station 1 fire department ASG – Kuwait. “Whatever may seem like chaos to somebody else to another person it may seem like, ‘OK, this is my environment, this is what I’m used to and this is what I trained for.’”
Back at the fire department at 7 p.m., the firehouse is an ant farm of firemen preparing for dinner. Whether it is firefighting, training or cooking one thing remains a constant throughout the firehouse: the brotherhood.
“All my guys, including me, are thousands of miles away from our families, so we must look out for each other and that brotherhood; we rely on it,” said Burson.
At the dinner table, between bites and laughter, it becomes clear that the camaraderie within these walls is not only paramount but quite similar to that of the military.
“It’s like being in a war zone; when you are with your squad that is your family,” said Hernandez, who is a veteran of the United States Marine Corps. “When you wind up trusting another guy with your life you wind up creating a bond with them just like no other.”
Day Two: June 10, 2012
Although wake-up call is not until 6 a.m., the house is bustling with activity at 5:15 a.m. – some firemen wash the fire trucks, some sweep the bays, while the captains create truck assignments.
“We move people around to keep them fluid, so they don’t get stagnate on any one truck,” said French. “It allows them to gain experience on every single apparatus and piece of equipment.”
Between checking the ignition and siren on the trucks, I am informed by Cpt. Burson that we will be taking part in one of the most grueling training exercises – Hazmat Level A – after the vehicle inspection.
Prior to the simulation, I sit through a beginner’s course on information about the hazmat suit, the proper decontamination process and a brief overview of various chemicals in the area.
The hazmat suit, which stands at over seven-feet tall, is cryptically described by Burson as a “body bag with a window.” The interior temperature of the suit alone, not counting body temperature, will have an increase of 35-40 degrees from the exterior temperature. Over a five-minute period, several firemen helped me into the hazmat suit, along securing an oxygen tank and gas mask.
“This Level A suit can not only be used for hazmat but for CBRN (chemical, biological, radiological, nuclear) and since we are in the Middle East; that is our biggest concern” said Burson.
In order to gain a respect for the exaggerated size of the suit, firemen had me perform menial tasks such as replacing batteries in a remote, making a cell phone call and ripping pieces of duct tape. Although simple in explanation, the tasks forced me to truly concentrate on my breathing and finite motor skills.
From there, Cpt. Burson explained what several firemen described as “one of their hardest moments of training” in the fire service. Partnered with another fireman, I must place an injured victim onto a SKED litter and drag the litter around the building one full lap. Once back at the original position, I, along with my partner, will move the injured victim from a Talon-litter and drag the victim for another full lap around the building.
With each step, I am reminded of the 120 degrees outside of the suit, with an apparent searing temperature inside of 155-160 degrees. At the finish line, several firemen help me undress as I collapse into a chair.
Hours later, firemen gather at the soccer field to participate in their mandated, three times-a-week workout. The workout, which involves getting dressed in full uniform (including oxygen tank and gas mask), is specifically designed to practice firemen movements in a working fire.
The workout is as follows: Walk one lap; 30 second plank; 10 push-ups; crawl the width of the soccer field; 30 second plank; 10 push-ups; walk the length of the soccer field; 30 second plank; 10 push-ups; low-crawl width of the soccer field; 30 second plank; 10 push-ups; walk the length of the soccer field; 30 second plank; 10 push-ups.
As I crossed the finish line, unable to catch my breath, I reached out for stability on the back of another fireman. Each fireman, standing in a collective circle, clung to one another for support – a scene that prompted the words of Cpt. French to echo in my head.
“In the fire service, we are a family,” said French. “Cops they do their shift and they go home; we are home; this is my house.”
