About 10 years ago, my department responded to a ripping house fire in a 3,000-square-foot beauty, and I was company officer that day. My company’s first engineer (FE) was a captain on a career department and, with the way things worked out, we hadn’t had the opportunity to work together yet. (I call him the FE because we were short-handed, and Ira, our usual engineer, was coming in POV from another direction.)
On arrival, the FE sets the pump and does the “engineer thing.” My firefighter (Burkes) and a boot firefighter from a mutual aid department pulled the line while I did the walk-around, killed the utilities and forced the door. In goes Burkes and the boot. Shortly after the FE is relieved by Ira, the FE meets me at the door; Burkes and the boot are back outside now. The FE and I start in and up the stairs with the deuce (2" line). Other companies are now arriving.
At the top of the stairs, we can hear ammunition cooking off all around us. After about five minutes without making any progress, the FE says, “I can't see $^!*; here you take the nozzle,” which I did. A few minutes later, we were still making no progress. I could also hear the occasional “tink” on our air cylinders and helmets, so we decided that we were in the wrong place at the wrong time and quietly proceed to the nearest exit in an orderly fashion.
Jump ahead 10 years ...
A few weeks ago, the guys in the station were telling “war stories,” and I walked in just in time to hear someone telling my war story from this incident. To make matters worse, the person telling the story wasn’t even there that day. (We’ll call this guy “dude”.) The only difference in the story was that dude’s had a better ending. The young boots around the table were all in awe of dude’s skills that fateful day 10 years ago. But I wasn’t.
No, I wasn’t mad that dude was telling my story — I was astonished. Dude hasn’t been one to do something like this in the past. For one thing, dude is a stand-up guy. And dude has enough stories of his own. They aren’t as good, and he can’t tell them that well, but he does have stories.
So I called dude to aside and asked him why he’s telling my story? He told me that the story he’s telling is just the way he remembers the fire (that he wasn’t at). I guess I gotta give him credit for at least sticking to his story.
Dude certainly isn’t the first firefighter to tell a tall tale or to stick to it even when cold busted. We all know these guys, and we all put up with them, mostly for the entertainment they provide. But dude is doing himself more harm than good. Other firefighters who were at the call that day or who’ve heard my story — and the stories of others who were there that day — are now looking at dude in a different light, and wondering, “Dude, what’s up with you?”
Here’s the bottom line: Tell your own stories. If you’re having trouble making them entertaining, shut up and listen to those of us who can tell a good story ... or join Toastmasters.
