Retired Firefighters
&
Fire Service Personnel
Short Stories
Two British traffic patrol officers from North Berwick were involved in an unusual
incident, while checking for speeding motorists on the A-
One of the officers (who are not named) used a hand-
The radar had in fact latched on to a NATO Tornado fighter jet over the North Sea, which was engaged in a low flying exercise over the Border district.
Back at police headquarters the chief constable fired off a stiff complaint to the RAF Liaison office.
Back came the reply in true laconic RAF style. “Thank you for your message, which
allows us to complete the file on this incident. You may be interested to know that
the tactical computer in the Tornado had automatically locked on to your ‘hostile
radar equipment’ and sent a jamming signal back to it. Furthermore, the Sidewinder
Air-
Would you Adam ‘n’ Eve it A true story from down under in NZ
Saturday night -
Come back -
“Excuse me, Sir, may we have some of those leaves from your tree over there?”. Pointing vaguely into our garden. Me “Why?”
“This is for to make tea for the old people”
I think -
To keep a long story short -
He became a bit toey and said “Are you going to get it tested”
Yours truly replied “Now that I know what you are after, course I bloody well am, and should you come back, he will be loose”.
Found out it is ‘Khat’ or ‘Qat’ it is a class 3 drug here!!
There you are, I am a drug dealer! Got in touch with the old Bill and gave them the SP.
I will be cutting down a tree shortly!!
Should any of my non Brit mates not be able to understand certain aspects a translation is available!!.
In the year 2007 the Lord came unto Noah, who was now living in England (where else?)
and said, “Once again, the earth has become wicked and over-
He gave Noah the CAD drawings, saying “You have 6 months to build the Ark before I will start the unending rain for 40 days and 40 nights.”
Six months later, the Lord looked down and saw Noah weeping in his yard -
“Forgive me, Lord,” begged Noah, “but things have changed. I needed Building Regulations Approval and I’ve been arguing with the Fire Brigade about the need for a sprinkler system. My neighbours claim that I should have obtained planning permission for building the Ark in my garden because it is development of the site, even though in my view it is a temporary structure. We had to then go to appeal to the Secretary of State for a decision.
Then the Department of Transport demanded a bond be posted for the future costs of
moving power lines and other overhead obstructions to clear the passage for the Ark’s
move to the sea. I told them that the sea would be coming to us, but they would
not hear of it. Getting the wood was another problem. All the decent trees have
Tree Preservation Orders on them and we live in a Site of Special Scientific Interest
set up in order to protect the spotted owl. I tried to convince the environmentalists
that I needed the wood to save the owls -
When I started gathering the animals, the RSPCA sued me. They insisted that I was
confining wild animals against their will. They argued the accommodation was too
restrictive, and it was cruel and inhumane to put so many animals in a confined space.
Then the County Council, the Environment Agency and the Rivers Authority ruled that
I couldn’t build the Ark until they’d conducted an environmental impact study on
your proposed flood. I’m still trying to resolve a complaint with the Equal Opportunities
Commission on how many disabled carpenters I’m supposed to hire for my building team.
The trades union say I can’t use my sons. They insist I have to hire only accredited
workers with Ark-
To make matters worse, Customs and Excise seized all my assets, claiming I’m trying to leave the country illegally with endangered species. So, forgive me, Lord, but it would take at least 10 years for me to finish this Ark.”
Suddenly the skies cleared, the sun began to shine, and a rainbow stretched across the sky. Noah looked up in wonder and asked, “You mean you’re not going to destroy the world?”
“No.” said the Lord “The British government beat me to it.”
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A Farewell to Alarms by Ernest Downes
I squeezed the handles of the pliers on my multi-
I gazed at it for the last time, in a few minutes it would be tossed into my bag and ‘returned to stores’ with the rest of my kit.
I recalled how, when as a young man of twenty, I had struggled to fit a similar badge to a fireman’s cap for the very first time.
The cap badges of the British Fire Service are mounted on an eight pointed Silver Star based on the cross of St. John, each point or ‘tenet’ represents a personal quality that was deemed essential for a fireman to possess.
Those qualities were Tact, Gallantry, Dexterity, Observation, Perseverance, Loyalty, Explicitness and Sympathy.
Throughout my career I aspired to those personal qualities, but did not often achieve them.
A few weeks earlier, with retirement looming large on the horizon, I had sat idly
in front of a computer staring at the Government ‘Fire Gateway’ Website. I noticed
a link to a self selection multiple choice questionnaire designed to help you decide
whether you have the potential to be a successful fire-
I took the test, and was assessed in the nine essential qualities required of a modernised
fire-
‘Your responses suggest that you may not be suited to a career as a firefighter and
that you may find some of the day-
‘You should reconsider whether you are really suited to the role of firefighter’.
‘Your responses suggest that you have the potential ability to meet the requirements to be a firefighter in the following areas: Effective communication, Problem solving’.
‘It would be difficult for you to meet the requirements to be a firefighter in the following areas: Working with others’.
‘It would be very difficult for you to meet the requirements to be a firefighter in the following areas: Commitment to diversity, Confidence and resilience, Commitment to excellence, Openness to change, Commitment to development, Situational awareness’.
The computer definitely ‘says no’; but I have been in ‘the job’ for 30 years, 20 of those years as a Station Officer I thought indignantly. I took some time to reflect on my dismal results.
Working with others: ok, I can live with that criticism; I know I prefer to work alone, or to be in charge, I have always forced myself to be a team player.
Commitment to diversity: I try to comply with all my employers’ policies on diversity even though the politically correct restrictions they imposed extend well beyond ‘the job’ and caused me to behave very cautiously in my private life. I wouldn’t want to prejudice my livelihood by failing to toe the required line. Thankfully, I always managed to suspend my conscience, and became a master of ‘doublethink’. I recall with an ironic smile that George Orwell’s real name was Eric Blair.
Confidence and Resilience: More ‘Newspeak’ I suspect! I have served for thirty years during which time I have undergone setbacks in my professional life and tragedy in my personal life, but here I am after 30 years. I know I can persevere, but it gets harder as the years go by.
Commitment to Excellence: I admire true excellence, when many of my superiors do not, they just want to do the minimum required to end up in the upper quartile of the next ‘league table’ , therefore effort must only be expended in those areas that attract little ticks in the boxes of BVPI’s, LPI’s, FAPI’s IPDS, FSEC. Spin not substance is the order of the day.
Openness to change: I am open to change, where change is for the better, but these days change seems to be driven by career crazed senior officers trying to create the socially engineered dream world required by their transient political masters.
Commitment to development: I was always prepared to develop essential skills, but admit I was very cynical about learning rubbish that I thought unnecessary, and far removed from the traditional roles of ‘the job’.
Situational awareness: I guess that means at incidents? I loved going to fires, still do even now! I would never wish a fire on anyone, but when they do occur, well, let’s get stuck in and stop it where we saw it! Fires mean a bit of excitement, danger, challenge and a chance to test your leadership where it really counts, and of course they get you away from in front of the computer!
My mind wandered from the computer screen back to a fire station lecture room in January 1977. Six very young looking recruit firemen were undergoing an induction week before being shipped of to Training School at Washington Hall, Chorley, Lancashire.
My colleagues and I were being given a ‘Trouser Pressing Lecture’ by a little martinet of a fireman with a dapper moustache and a ‘slashed peak’ on his cap.
He told us a few home truths about ‘the job we had just had the privilege to join.
The essence of what he said that day has remained with me for thirty years.
‘You will be beasted all the time at training school, but stick it out because the job is a lot more relaxed when you get back on station. Beware when you join a watch though, as you will come across some lazy individuals who don’t care a bit about the job, they will try to lead you astray, don’t be taken in. You just remember, everytime the bells go down there is someone out there who is in trouble, and you and the others on your appliance are probably the only people who can help them.
I mused on a few of the changes since ‘old Arra’ was on Blue Watch, and wondered
what he would make of things today. Probationary firemen had shiny shoes and short
hair in his day, now development firefighters have pony-
Instead of firemen reaching up, the appliances squat down so that firefighters can reach the ladders on the roof. Firemen learnt topography, firefighters have mobile data terminals and satellite navigation. Firemen tested their hydrants, firefighters peddle free smoke detectors door to door. Firemen called senior officers ‘Sir’, firefighters are on first name terms with the Chief Officer. Drill, once a daily institution, is now an occasional activity that takes place when a concensus of firefighters thinks themselves in need of a little light refreshment.
The job was once run as a disciplined service, now it is run as a branch of the Social Services. Ranks are roles, and solid, practical Fire Officers tested by examination and experience have been replaced by inept ‘managers’ who PRINCE from department to department, often clueless about the realities of ‘the job’.
I recalled the advertisement for firefighter vacancies I had seen recently. The main part of the advertisement was extolling the exciting challenges of Community Fire Safety, and the opportunities that existed to network with local partnerships. Firefighting was mentioned in the small print at the foot of the page as an occasional activity that may inconvenience the performance of ‘prevention’ duties.
Firefighting hasn’t changed much though, the kit is better these days, the BA sets are lighter, modern RTA gear lets us extricate casualties before they die on us, and we now have the proper equipment and training to carry out water and rope rescues, but it is still a dirty, strenuous and sometimes dangerous job. You experience some situations that you will only ever want to share with others in ‘the job’. Because they alone will understand. It is, and always was a decent and honourable occupation, with the immense satisfaction of delivering help to others when their need is greatest.
The mist cleared from my eyes and I peered through my spectacles to focus again on the computer screen perched on the desk in front of me.
I was still puzzled why I had done badly in the test, when after all, I was in ‘the job’.
Slowly the answer dawned on me, the modernizers were now recruiting people with the qualities to do ‘a job’.
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A true story from Associated Press
Just when you think you have heard everything!!
Do you like to read a good murder
mystery? Not even Law and Order would attempt to capture this mess. This is an unbelievable
twist of fate!!!!
At the 1994 annual awards dinner given for Forensic Science, (AAFS)
President
Dr. Don Harper Mills astounded his audience with the legal complications of a bizarre
death.
Here is the story:
On March 23, 1994...... the medical examiner viewed the body of
Ronald Opus,and concluded that he died
from a shotgun wound to the head. Mr. Opus
had jumped from the top of a ten-
to commit suicide.. He
left a note to the effect indicating his despondency.As he fell past the ninth floor,
his life was interrupted by a shotgun blast passing through a window,which killed
him instantly. Neither the shooter nor the deceased was aware that a safety net had
been installed just below the eighth floor level to protect some building workers
and that Ronald Opus would not have been able to complete his suicide the way he
had planned.
The room on the ninth floor, where the shotgun blast emanated, was occupied
by an elderly man and his wife. They were arguing vigorously and he was threatening her
with a shotgun! The man was so upset that when he pulled the trigger, he completely
missed his wife, and the pellets went through the window, striking Mr. Opus. When
one intends to kill subject 'A' but kills subject 'B' in the attempt, one is guilty
of the murder of subject 'B.' When confronted with the murder charge, the old man and
his wife were both adam ant, and both said that they thought the shotgun was not
loaded. The old man said it was a long-
The
continuing investigation turned up a witness who saw the old couple's son loading
the shotgun about six weeks prior to the fatal accident.
It transpired that the old
lady had cut off her son's financial support and the son, knowing the propensity of
his father to use the shotgun threateningly, loaded the gun with the expectation
that his father would shoot his mother.
Since the loader of the gun was aware of
this, he was guilty of the murder, even though he didn't actually pull the trigger.
The case now becomes one of murder on the part of the son for the death of Ronald
Opus.
Now comes the exquisite twist. Further investigation revealed that the son
was, in fact, Ronald Opus. He had become increasingly despondent over the failure
of his attempt to engineer his mother's murder. This led him to jump off the ten-
The son, Ronald Opus, had actually murdered himself. So the medical
examiner closed the case as a suicide.
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Justice
This took place in Charlotte North Carolina. A lawyer purchased a box of very rare
and expensive cigars, and then insured them against, among other things, fire.
Within a month, having smoked his entire stockpile of these great cigars, the lawyer
filed a claim against the insurance company.
In his claim, the lawyer stated the
cigars were lost 'in a series of small fires.' The insurance company refused to pay,
citing the obvious reason, that the man had consumed the cigars in the normal fashion.
The lawyer sued and WON!
Delivering the ruling, the judge agreed with the insurance company that the claim
was frivolous.
The judge stated nevertheless, that the lawyer held a policy from the company, in
which it had warranted that the cigars were insurable and also guaranteed that
it would insure them against fire, without defining what is considered to be unacceptable
'fire' and was obligated to pay the claim.
Rather than endure lengthy and costly appeal process, the insurance company accepted
the ruling and paid $15,000 to the lawyer for his loss of the cigars that perished
in the ‘fires’.
NOW FOR THE BEST PART
After the lawyer cashed the check, the insurance company had him arrested on 24
counts of ARSON!!! With his own insurance claim and testimony from the previous case
being used against him, the lawyer was convicted of intentionally burning his insured
property and was sentenced to 24 months in jail and a $24,000 fine. This true story
won First Place in last year’s Criminal Lawyers Award contest.
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Pocket Tazer Stun Gun, a great gift for the wife
A guy who purchased his lovely wife a pocket Tazer for their anniversary submitted
this:
Last weekend I saw something at Larry's Pistol & Pawn Shop that sparked my
interest. The occasion was our 15th anniversary and I was looking for a little something
extra for my wife Julie. What I came across was a 100,000-
The effects of the tazer were supposed to be short lived, with no long-
WAY TOO COOL
Long story short, I bought the device and brought it home. I loaded two AAA batteries in the darn thing and pushed the button.
Nothing . . . I was disappointed. I learned, however, that if I pushed the button and pressed it against a metal surface at the same time; I'd get the blue arc of electricity darting back and forth between the prongs.
AWESOME !
Unfortunately, I have yet to explain to Julie what that burn spot is on the face
of her microwave. Okay, so I was home alone with this new toy, thinking to myself
that it couldn't be all that bad with only two triple-
There I
sat in my recliner, my cat Gracie looking on intently ( trusting little soul ) while
I was reading the directions and thinking that I really needed to try this thing
out on a flesh and blood moving target.
I must admit I thought about zapping Gracie
( for a fraction of a second) and thought better of it. She is such a sweet cat.
But, if I was going to give this thing to my wife to protect herself against a mugger,
I did want some assurance that it would work as advertised. Am I wrong?
So, there
I sat in a pair of shorts and a tank top with my reading glasses perched delicately
on the bridge of my nose, directions in one hand, and tazer in another. The directions
said that a one-
All the
while I'm looking at this little device measuring about 5" long, less than 3/4 inch
in circumference; pretty cute really and ( loaded with two itsy, bitsy triple-
What happened next is almost beyond description,
but I'll do my best . . .
I'm sitting there alone, Gracie looking on with her head
cocked to one side as to say, 'don't do it dipshit,' reasoning that a one second
burst from such a tiny little ole thing couldn't hurt all that bad. I decided to
give myself a one second burst just for heck of it. I touched the prongs to my naked
thigh, pushed the button, and . . HOLY MOTHER OF GOD . . WEAPONS OF MASS DESTRUCTION
. . . WHAT THE HELL I'm pretty sure Jessie Ventura ran in through the side door,
picked
me up in the recliner, then body slammed us both on the carpet, over and over and
over again.
I vaguely recall waking up on my side in the fetal position, with tears
in my eyes, body soaking wet, both nipples on fire, testicles nowhere to be found,
with my left arm tucked under my body in the oddest position, and tingling in my
legs.
The cat was making meowing sounds I had never heard before, clinging to a
picture frame hanging above the fireplace, obviously in an attempt to avoid getting
slammed by my body flopping all over the living room.
Note: If you ever feel compelled to 'mug' yourself with a tazer, one note of caution: there is no such thing as a one second burst when you zap yourself. You will not let go of that thing until it is dislodged from your hand by a violent thrashing about on the floor.. A three second burst would be considered conservative.
IT HURT LIKE HELL. . .
A minute or so later ( I can't be sure, as time was a relative thing at that point, ), I collected my wits ( what little I had left ), sat up and surveyed the landscape.
My bent reading glasses were on the mantel of the fireplace.
The recliner was upside down and about 8 feet or so from where it originally was.
My triceps, right thigh and both nipples were still twitching.
My face felt like it had been shot up with Novocain, and my bottom lip weighed 88 lbs.
I had no control over the drooling.
Apparently I shit myself, but was too numb to know for sure and my sense of smell was gone.
I saw a faint smoke cloud above my head which I believe came from my hair.
I'm still looking for my nuts and I'm offering a significant reward for their safe return..
P.S. My wife, can't stop laughing about my experience, Loved the gift, and now regularly threatens me with it. If you think education is difficult, Try being stupid....
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