Where There Is Smoke There Is Fire!

A peek at a stressful day in the life of a firefighter!
by R.A. Naegele

The sun was shining, and it was a fairly warm day in Central NY, as the Griffiss Air Force Base Fire Department personnel sat down to eat their lunch. It had been a morning of training in the "live fire pit area", where jet fuel was ignited, and the crash trucks practiced maneuvering around a simulated aircraft, and extinguished the flames.

We had just finished washing down our truck, and left it outside the station to dry. As we settled into our seats to eat, they were "running" up a jet engine on KC-135 Stratotanker, tail number 522, just across the street on the tanker parking ramp. Suddenly, the sound of the whining jet engine was replaced by a loud, but hollow sounding "whhhummpp"!

As we all turned to the windows, we could see people running away from the aircraft parking line, and there was thick black smoke billowing skyward, as orange flames lapped 30 or 40 feet in the air. We later learned that the engine being tested, had flown apart, exploded, and ripped holes in the fuel cells in the wing of the aircraft.

We immediately abandoned our lunches, ran for our trucks, and donned our protective gear. We were pulling up on the nose of the aircraft, before the alarm was even sounded by fire control. As we approached the aircraft, as the "first truck on scene" we were responsible for trying to extinguish a path to the cockpit and to attempt a rescue of the flight crew.

I was a young "rookie". This was my first actual aircraft fire. I, as junior man on the crew, was assigned as the "nozzle man" on the handline. My crew chief was behind me on the hose line, and we advanced toward the aircraft, sweeping our nozzle back and forth, cutting a path through unbelievable flames and smoke.

We were making little headway, as the aircraft's fuel cells had been ripped wide open, and 93,000 pounds of jet fuel was being poured onto the fire and was flowing across the parking ramp 2 or 3 inches deep and burning.

As we moved toward the aircraft, doing our best to protect the cockpit area, the hose line went limp. the P-2 crash truck, carrying 2300 gallons of water, was pumping at a rate of 1400 gallons a minute, and had expended it's load of water and foam.

Needless to say, things got hot in a hurry. We were immediately surrounded by heavy black smoke, and flames began to close around us. Our training allowed us to act without panic, and to retrace our steps back along the hoseline to the safety of the crash truck. As we pulled away from the scene, to re-supply with foam and water, the other trucks from main station were arriving and pouring foam on the fire. Our hearts sank as we could see the metal skin of the aircraft, burning off like tissue paper. A pall came over our crew, as we all contemplated our inability to successfully reach the cockpit for rescue. We assumed that the crew was most likely lost in the flames. A brave young airman working in the area, jumped into the pilot's seat of the adjacent aircraft, on the downwind side of the fire, started the engines, and taxied the tanker out of harm's way. By doing so, he prevented the fire from spreading to the other aircraft on the line. He was a true hero!

It was a full hour later, before we could breathe a breath of thanks for the safety of the crew. It turns out that they had exited the aircraft on the opposite side from where we were stationed in our truck, jumped off the wing, and run to safety. It was a huge load off of our hearts and shoulders. That whole hour had been consumed with thoughts of failure, and sadness contemplating the crew trapped in the intense flames as fire consumed the cockpit.

It as a long and hard fight, and we spent the better part of the night minimizing the amount of fuel getting into the drainage system, and cleaning up the remaining spilled fuel. It could have consumed many more aircraft than it did. it could have had a much larger impact on the environment, and it would have been a much larger human tragedy as well, had the crew not escaped the flames safely!

Those of us involved in the attempted rescue, in the face of intense fire and exploding fuel cells, as well as the airman that moved the other tanker to safety, were all given letters of heroism by the Strategic Air Command, Commander. That letter was made a permanent part of my personnel record, and counted for points when I applied for jobs through merit promotion system for my entire civil service career of well over 20 years.

In my own mind, I was very proud of that recognition, as a rookie firefighter. However none of us ever believed that we had done anything heroic. We simply utilized our training, doing what we practiced often, and did our jobs to the best of our ability.

Was I brave?? Hell no!!. I was hot, tired and scared to death! You could not have driven a sewing needle up my butt with a sledge hammer I was so damned scared.

That was the day that I received my "baptism by fire". It was a sobering reminder that although we had few fires at the base, the magnitude of the ones we did have, and the type of resources we protected, made the job very dangerous. With that in mind, I took training very seriously, and instilled that seriousness in all of the young troops that I trained over the duration of my firefighting career.

Anyone that begrudges firefighters the time spent playing cards or watching TV, should take time to consider the time they spend training, and the danger they face on a daily basis. When the average citizen is running away from a fire, the firefighter is running into the flames to save either your lives or your property.

Griffiss AFB is no longer an Air Force Base. My old crew chief, Billy Newman from Oriskany is no longer with us. He passed away shortly after he retired with over 20 years of crash firefighting service.. I will always remember his hand on my shoulder, and his encouraging and reassuring words in my ear, as he guided me out of the flames when the truck ran out of foam. He was an experienced, and courageous man, and very dedicated to his profession, and to protecting the people and assets of Griffiss AFB.

May Bill Newman rest in peace, and may firefighters everywhere, have a guardian angel like him to place a hand on their shoulder when they are in a dangerous situation. God bless them all. I will treasure the letter of heroism, and my memories of my days as a firefighter until the day I pass from this earth. It was an experience I would not trade for all the gold in Fort Knox.