Out of the fire into the furnace.

Being a firefighter in the UK is quite different from being one in other countries. In the UK it is mainly a full time profession and is a very difficult career to get into. I recall one year when one brigade closed the applications at 10,000, there were 200 vacancies to fill over the whole year, which for the time was extraordinary. I was quite lucky back in the 70's it was a little easier. When I joined at 18, it was a 14 week course, residential from Sunday night to Friday pm. This was followed by two years on probation and a qualification examination, practical and theory after 5 years.

Passing promotional examinations did not mean you necessarily got promoted, there was a selection process and competition against others with the same qualification was quite cutthroat on occasions.

Also, in the UK it is a disciplined service, run like a cross between the British Army and the British Navy. It is steeped in tradition and there are numerous offences you can be charged with. Insubordination was one I usually came very close to, as was disobedience to orders, no wonder MT finds me such hard work at times. When I joined in 1974 (when MT would have been one year old) there were not any professional full time female firefighters, so it really was a male dominated career.

Just like the armed services, it was no place for the shy, meek or weak and we all worked very closely together. The day shifts were 9 hours and the nights 15 hours. In those days, on the night shifts you could get some sleep in the dorm from 10-30 pm, subject to emergency calls.

It was a great life, I never knew from one minute to the next what I would be doing . We could be drilling in the yard and five minutes later be battling a large fire or cutting people out of the wreckage of cars, trains, planes or even out of machinery.

A fringe benefit, a big plus in my book, was that women seemed to find firefighters particular desirable and some literally threw themselves at us. Although against the rules, we often had some 'company' on the night shifts, one had to of course hide ones comfort from the Officers on the station. Sometimes we were allowed parties on the station and these were often quite an 'event'. I particularly remember one such night where one young lady managed to get through eighteen of the men on duty, I was not one of them, I had one all to myself. I do not like to share, as  MT will attest.

We also had a bar on the station, which was open on the night shifts. We were of course expected to show some restraint, but of course sometimes restraint is a bit difficult after a few drinks. This was one area I did not personally abuse, I may have been a pretty headstrong reckless little shit in those days, but I took the job seriously. If I were to get pissed I would endanger the lives of the public I was there to protect, and or my colleagues and indeed myself. Entering burning buildings with all those flames, heat, smoke and toxic gases was scary enough, being sober seemed sensible even to me.

I often think that if MT had been in charge of us things would have been different, but then again we would probably all have ended up being in one big poly O/p relationship where forced homosexuality was the norm and beatings were mandatory at parade time.