"Camp Slugs and Mushroom Clouds"
By Ross7
Chapter One
Station 51's A-shift paramedics had been assigned—and confined—to the Domingo Canyon Brushfire's base camp for the past seven hours and fifty-three minutes.
The two men were tired of taking vitals and irrigating eyes. They were tired of treating cases of dehydration, heat exhaustion and smoke inhalation.
Most of all, they were weary of being referred to as 'camp slugs'.
Slugs is firefighter slang for 'slackers'. Slackers are anyone not actually on the fireline. There are 'engine slugs', 'heli-slugs' and, of course, the dreaded 'camp slugs'.
Roy flashed his pacing partner, with all the pent up energy, a sympathetic smile.
Johnny made a terrible 'camp slug'. Confining John Gage to a base camp was like locking a wild mustang stallion up in a box stall.
John just couldn't wait for their tour in the 'Staging' area to finally end, so he could take his turn on the actual fireline—the fire control line that is scraped, 'scalped' or dug clear down to mineral soil, to create a fire barrier.
It was far more prestigious to be working on the fireline, than to be slacking off back at base camp all day.
Finally, at two minutes to three, Squad 16 pulled into the staging area to relieve them.
Gage gladly passed the Rehab' Zone's responsibilities over to their replacements and went racing off to receive his next assignment.
The chief in charge of Fireground Operations spotted the paramedic emblems on the new arrivals' helmets and immediately arranged for the pair to be split up.
DeSoto was sent to a fireline on the left flank of the fire, and his partner was deployed to a crew working the line directly ahead of them.
Johnny reported to his crew chief and was briefed.
The crew chief reminded his new lineman of the importance of accountability, constant communication and situation awareness.
Gage was then informed that their crew's closest Safety Zone was on the backside of the ridge that ran directly behind their current fireline.
After being advised of the need to be extra vigilant, due to the swirling wind frequently shifting directions on them, John was issued an aluminum fire shelter and an Adze hoe, and put to work—on the fireline.
An Adze is ideally designed to grub out, trench, and scalp a fire break through even the densest of vegetation—with copious amounts of elbow grease, that is.
Speaking of copious amounts of elbow grease…
51's paramedics had been scalping away on the fireline for close to three backbreaking hours, creating a three to five foot swath of bare ground, effectively establishing a perimeter along the brushfire's left flank.
Suddenly, word came across the radio channels that a fuel supply truck had broken down, and the nearest dozer had just run out of fuel, making it unavailable to them for the next forty-five minutes.
A few seconds later, the fireline crews received more bad news from their lookouts. The wind was shifting directions on them—again.
The lookout for John's crew also reported some 'spotting'. The fire was producing sparks or embers that were being carried along by the wind and which were starting 'spot fires' beyond the zone of direct ignition by the main fire. Their lookout was worried a cascade of spot fires might cause a blowup.
As a result, handline construction on the fire's left flank was immediately halted.
Everybody along the fire's left flank suddenly found themselves engulfed in a wall of dense, black, acrid smoke, making for zero visibility. So much for 'accountability'.
The call quickly came down the fireline for the crews to move into their respective Safety Zones—areas that had been cleared of all flammable material.
The fire crews used these clearings for escape, in the event their firelines were to be outflanked, or in case a spot fire caused fuels outside the control line to render the fireline unsafe.
Along with clearing firebreaks, dozers were always working to create and maintain Safety Zones that were close at hand to the fire crews.
Once they reached their Safety Zones, firefighters and their equipment would be 'relatively' safe, in the event of any 'blowups' in the vicinity.
Halfway up the ridge, whilst blindly heading for his crew's Safety Zone, John literally stumbled upon the concrete foundation of an old house. The firefighter figured the home had probably been a casualty of another canyon brushfire, decades earlier.
As he was traversing the old homestead's overgrown backyard, John happened to step upon the rusted out cover on the entrance to an abandoned fallout shelter. The fireman's boots broke through the rotted hatch and he dropped twenty-five feet straight down, into the buried underground chamber.
When his fireline tool's long, wooden handle hit the dirt floor of the subterranean cavern, the Adze head flew up and conked the falling firefighter on the left side of his head. The blow knocked his helmet off and rendered him unconscious.
TBC