The fire station bells ring loudly. The PA in the bunk room is blaring so loud it sounds as if Charlie Brown’s teacher is talking. The address comes over the speaker. “Box 3369 for the structure fire reported occupants trapped on the second floor.” It’s 2:26am and between your heart racing and your feet shuffling there is this moment of silence. . . . Then reality smacks you in the face. Racing to the pumper to get our gear on the diesel engines start. “LETS GO GET EM BOYS!” yells the officer. Sirens and horns, horns and sirens. Cars are moving out of the way like we are the ones on fire. Dispatchers are giving updates, the driver and officer are talking over the radio squawk, the air pack is giving you a fit with the seat belt and the straps and 
the face piece won’t latch on and the…….then you feel the truck slow and see the glow out your window. Thoughts race through your mind like the Daytona 500. Sounds begin to dampen and then sound, similar to a starting pistol at a race…. Psssshhhhhhhtttt – the air brake is set and four doors fling open on the engine. Orders are being barked for ladders, water, tools, and size up. A man runs up to you with soot across his face and pleads…”My wife is upstairs in the bedroom. I couldn’t get her to go with me through the smoke.” Without hesitating, ladders are raised and glass is being rained down like a hail storm. Smoke obscures your view, smoke detectors are sounding in the room, crawling through the smoke that is so thick you can’t see three inches. Sweep to the right, use your tools… and all of a sudden you hear a faint voice from the distance. “Help me” whimpers from what seems to be miles away. You crawl towards the sound with only the voice guiding you. Yelling out in a mask that keeps smoke out and also muffles your voice you make a sweep … THUD. “We got her, over here.” With the help of your partner the civilian is carried down the ladder to the grass below. She is unresponsive and not breathing. Ripping the gear off as fast as you put it on you check for a pulse……none. Pounding on a stranger’s chest for what seems to be hours you hear a cough, a moan, and before a Hollywood moment can unfold paramedics are whisking you and the woman up to be placed in an ambulance. “What’s going to happen to that lady,” you ask. The paramedic says “Let’s take a look at that burn you have.” Not realizing first and second degree burns have began to blister your chest, neck and hands. The pain was not felt when crawling through the heated gases. The pain is bearable because of adrenaline. “I’m fine,” you tell the medic. “We should get it looked at by a doc,” the medic barks. You give the medic a look that could would stop a freight train. There’s still a fire to fight. Funny thing what adrenaline can do to a heart beat.
Why do we do this? Ask 100 firefighters and you will get 200 different answers. Most common answer is helping people – but why? It’s a rush. A unexplained urgency that never seems to slow as we age. Hard to explain what gets the heart beating..Firefighting