Chapter 237 Tree Hill Fire Rescue St#1
Tuesday, January 24th, Late Morning
In the office/bunk room for Rescue Company 27 of the Tree Hill Fire-Rescue Department, a tall ginger-haired man sat at his desk. J.L. "Huck" Burke, Lieutenant, Tree Hill Fire-Rescue Department, looked over his latest reports. He ran a hand over his closely cropped hair, in a way of thinking.
There was a knock on the door jam. Huck looked up from the report to see one of his crew standing in the open doorway.
"How can I help you, Smedley?" Huck asked.
"I was going through the paper today, and I found an article you'd find interesting, Lou," Smedley said.
Huck made a face and shrugged, "Let's see," he said.
Smedley walked in and laid down the tabloid-style paper. The firefighter pointed to a picture of two cars wrapped together, and there's a picture of Huck and Smeadley standing by them.
"That was my first night as Lieutenant here," Huck said, with a nod.
Smedley nodded, "Yeah, we caught a hell of a pin job there," he said.
Huck nodded.
(Flashback in italics)
The gong sounded off in the rooms and halls of Tree Hill Fire Rescue Headquarters. Huck sat up and shook his head. At this hour, it was seldom a good thing.
"Car 20, Engine 29, Rescue 27, report of a motor vehicle accident with entrapment, intersection of Mercantile Street and Ocean Avenue, time of alarm Zero Two Two Seven Hours," came over the in-house speaker from the dispatch center.
Huck spun to sit on the side of his bunk. He slipped his feet into his bunker pants and pulled them up as he stood up. The pants came up, and Huck set the suspenders on his shoulders. He fastened his pants and headed out to the stairs. He was down on the apparatus floor in mere moments from the time the alarm comes in.
He walked over to the front of the department's only heavy rescue truck. Huck rested his hand on the crest of the department on the front door of the rig. After a moment, Huck reached for his turnout coat and slipped it on. The rest of his crew started to show up. Huck nodded, opened the front cab door, and climbed into his seat. Getting settled in his seat, he looked around the crew.
"Are we ready, Bogart?" Huck asked.
"Let's see," Bogart, the driver, said, "All set?" he called to the back seats.
"We're set!" came from the back seats.
"Let's do this!" Huck said.
Bogart nodded and pressed a button; the overhead door started to roll up; he next started the engine and put the rig into gear. Once the door was open enough, the rig began to roll out. Huck grabbed the radio mic, "Rescue 27 is responding," Huck said.
"Roger, Rescue 27, PD is reporting there are confirmed multiple entrapments," The dispatcher replied.
"Roger," Huck said, and turned to the backseats, "You heard that we have work to do. Smedley, when we get there, check the other car, take Oakley."
"Got it, Lou," Smedley said.
Huck looked towards Bogart, "Come in from Mercantile," he said.
"Got it, Lou," Bogart said.
The rig moved through the minimal traffic, down Mercantile Street. About a block away from Ocean Avenue, they could see the wreck of the two cars. One of them looked like it had done damage to multiple vehicles and objects.
"Let's block traffic on Ocean Ave," Huck said.
"Got it, Lou," Bogart said.
"Rescue 27 has arrived on the scene, confirmed two car MVA," Huck said over the radio.
The massive rescue rig pulled through the intersection and blocked traffic. Huck reached for his black helmet with his brand new white and blue shield with the number 27 on it. Once the rig stopped, Huck was off the rig and moved around to the rig's front.
The car closest to him was a midnight blue Ferrari 458 Italia, not a typical vehicle for the area. Huck slowly moved forward and looked at how mangled the car is. The construction of modern cars is that the vehicles will look badly deformed, but the people inside are fine; the car would take the force's brunt. Leaning into the nearby window hole, the glass is now spread all over the place in the car and street; he noted two blonde women were in the car. The woman closest to him, the passenger, looked like she took a beating. This woman's well-muscled arm looked badly dislocated at the shoulder.
Huck moved his gloved hand forward and checked to see if she was still alive. He found a pulse and brushed back her bangs; he took a penlight and checked her pupils. They showed signs of a head injury. Making a note of this, he went to check the second woman in the car. He couldn't get to her; the other care was in the way.
After finishing his walking around, Huck met back up with Smedley and Oakley in front of the rig. "What do we have?" Huck asked.
"Five in the SUV," Smedley said, "Three of them are kids."
"Rescue 27, Car 20, what do you need?" The Chief asked over the radio.
"Car 20, Rescue 27, we're going to need seven ambulances and a Truck Company. We have seven entrapments, several critical in two cars," Huck reported over the radio.
"Roger Rescue 27," The Chief replied.
Huck looked to the crew, "Butler, Davis, get these cars stabilized. Smeadley and Oakley get the tools, and let's get to work," he said.
The crew nodded and went about their tasks.
"Yeah, eight victims, three of them fatal," Huck said.
"A hell of a first night," Smedley said.
"Yes," Huck said, "It was, but we got it done, and before the truck arrived."
"A hell of a job," Smedley said.
Huck nodded and turned back to the picture in the paper. The car closest was the color of midnight blue.
"I saw your name on the Lieutenant's list," Huck said to Smedley.
"Yeah, I'm surprised how high I came out," Smedley said.
"You're in the promotional range," Huck said.
"Wow!" Smedley said.
"Within months, you'll be back on an engine," Huck said.
"I'm hoping for one of the trucks," Smedley said.
"New Lieutenants tend to end up on the engines," Huck said.
"That sucks," Smedley said, with a laugh.
"Yeah, it was; I got lucky with my engine and truck assignments; I was at twenty-eight and then moved to twenty-six," Huck said.
"Not all of us could be so lucky," Smedley said.
"That's true," Huck said, and handed the paper back to Smedley, "Thanks for bringing this to my attention."
"You're welcome," Smedley said, collected the newspaper and left.
Huck nodded, opened a drawer, and pulled out a file with his name on it. Opening the file, he pulled out a piece of paper, he read it.
(The writing on the paper in italics)
For actions taken for a motor vehicle accident at the intersection of Mercantile Street and Ocean Avenue, the crew of Rescue Company Twenty-seven stabilized and extricated eight entrapped victims quickly and efficiently before their Emergency Medical and addition fire support arrived. The members of Rescue Company Twenty-seven are a credit to the Tree Hill Fire rescue Department and the Town of Tree Hill. On behalf of the mayor, city council, we award the members of Platoon C of Rescue Company Twenty-seven the Mayoral Distinguished Unit Citation.
Huck nodded, slipped the sheet of paper back into the file. Closing the file, he put it back into the drawer. After a minute or so, he closed the drawer and went back to writing his report.
The gong went off. Huck spotted and looked up to the ceiling.
"Car 20, Engine 21, Engine 23, Engine 29, Truck 22, and Rescue 27, report of a structure fire at 3027 Wittington Lane, time of alarm one one four three hours," came over the in-house speakers from the dispatch center.
Huck put down his pen and got up, heading to the stairs, down to the apparatus floor, and onto the rig.
