Don’t Be That Guy… See the Whole Picture

Author: EHT Lead Instructor Captain Steve Heidbreder

I would like to recount to you a lesson learned during a recent structure fire I arrived to as the first-due engine company.  The following incident was a vivid reminder to me that sometimes we’re just lucky.  Sometimes we miss something and get our company in a position where all we have is luck and our brothers to watch our back.  Even after twenty-five plus years in the fire service, sometimes you miss something.  Sometimes you take a short cut you shouldn’t.  Sometimes you’re glad “Luck” was on that hose line with us….

The silence of oh-dark-thirty is broken by three shrill beeps, followed by the robotic voice alerting the companies to a run.  Tones…..lights…..the dispatchers voice – structure fire in the first-due.  The brain attempts to shake the cobwebs of sleep and process the information.  The address is close, we’ll be on our own for a little while.  What’s the construction of homes in that neighborhood? Are the residents out or was this called in by a neighbor or someone passing by?  Quickly don my gear, watching to make sure my three firefighters are buttoned up.  Is the driver clear on the address?  Make sure to locate the closest hydrant using the CAD map as we make our way through the deserted streets.

As we arrive we drive past the address getting a view of three sides and leaving the front open for the quint.  Looking at the house I notice the front door open with smoke banked down two-thirds of the way to the floor.  I don’t see any other signs of fire from the cab.  Two police officers and several family members are standing in the yard pointing to the door.  After giving quick final orders to the company, I approach the frantic woman rushing to meet me in the yard.  “It’s upstairs and to the right, upstairs and to the right!” 

I proceed to the front door to observe conditions and am met by a police officer stating “It’s upstairs and to the right!” 

I look behind me to see the last kinks being flaked out of the inch-and-three-quarter hose before it will be charged.  The firefighters are donning face pieces and going on air.  I do the same, looking back at my Nozzle and Back-Up firefighter to tell them I’ll meet them at the top of the stairs which are right inside the front door.  Both look at me and acknowledge as they finish buttoning up their gear.

I get to the top of the stairs and perform a quick sweep to make sure there are no victims close.  Heavy smoke making visibility near zero.  No heat…. strange.  Is it in a back room and venting out a window?  Nothing showing up on the TIC…… strange.  Make a quick dash to the front bedroom, sweep for victims – nothing.  Still no fire or heat.  Now I’m finally starting to register what my brain has been trying to tell me.  Something’s not right here.  This should have been so easy, a quick dash up the stairs, open a door, flow water, fire out.  As I make my way back to the top of the stairs I’m met by the Nozzle and Back-Up Firefighter as they are advancing the hose line up the stairs.  I tell them to hold at the top of the stairs while I check the third bedroom and that I’m having trouble finding the fire……strange.

About this time I start hearing radio reports from the second-due company and Battalion Chief about a fire in the rear of the house.  Rear of the house I think?  Where is this fire venting from?  The next radio call is from my Door Firefighter and is much more ominous…. “Cap, we got fire in the kitchen, first floor, it’s coming at us….”  Strange……  When the realization finally hits, it takes my breath away.  We’re above the advancing fire.  I missed it.  I’ve put us in a bad spot.  I didn’t check the rear……

A mad scramble of firefighters and hose attempt a tactical retreat down the stairs to reposition our line.  Our company training paid dividends that early morning. My Door and Back-Up Firefighters were able to reposition our hose and allow for a quick advance down the stairs and then to the rear kitchen.  “First thing to go right for me at this fire” I remember thinking to myself.  Between the second-due company getting a line to the rear and our now properly positioned line, we made quick work of what turned out to be an exterior siding fire that caused the sliding glass door to fail allowing fire to extend into the kitchen and the garage. 

The fire the homeowner saw “upstairs and to the right” turned out to be flames extending up the exterior siding and past the window she looked out of in the upstairs bedroom.  Luck….. I think I love you!

I was furious at myself for making such a stupid mistake.  I had plenty of time to do the one thing I’ve been preaching as a training officer for more years than I’d like to count.  Do a 360 of the fire building!  Did I that night?  No!  I let the homeowner and police officers do my size up.  I let them do my job as a fire officer and the results could have been very serious.  I have no excuse.  I simply blew it.  I arrived on scene with five firefighters dressed and ready to go to work.  A luxury few if any of my suburban counterparts across the country enjoy.  I had four firefighters to supervise placing one line in service and I let them down.  I hope my friend and mentor Captain Gustin can forgive me for allowing others to do my size up.  He’s been preaching that gospel for as long as I’ve known him.  We’ve shared horror stories about what happens when you don’t check the rear.

As any good training officer would do, when overhaul operations were completed I gathered the other company officers for a quick tailboard critique.  I pointed out my mistake and the consequences that could have occurred had the second-due company and my Door FF not had their heads in the game.  A great lesson learned and passed on.  Next I gathered my company together for our own review.  Again pointing out that by not doing a 360 I put us in danger and vowed to them I would never again let the homeowner or police officers do my size up.

As anyone reading this knows, firefighters will look for any excuse for humor.  No matter where, what time, or what the situation.  After giving them my solemn vow, the silence is broken by one of the Brothers…. “so… I guess from now on you’ll just be known as Captain 180?”  The others don’t even try to hide their laughter, not even the probie.  Sigh, I love my job I remember telling myself repeatedly.  To add insult to injury, when we return to duty following a four-day, there is a new name plate on my gear locker.  The name plate you see in the picture at the top of this article.  And so Captain 180 was born. “I love my job, I love my job….”

To this day, I touch that name plate every morning when I’m getting my gear out and ready for a shift.  I promise myself I won’t put my company in a bad situation by not doing my job as an engine officer.  I will always check the rear!  I hope you will too.