the face behind the glass - pt.1

[wytchcroft]

this is the first part of a quick story i scribbled down after being inspired by an article about antique fire fighting equipment in ru_steampunk here -
this image is taken from there.

The face behind the glass.

 

“Let’s hear it for dear old Blighty!” The Boys all sang and hardy voiced the lot of ‘em, enough to bring a tear to a chap’s eye, rising above the clang of the wagon and the slither of the ladders. And of course the roar of the blaze we had arrived to extinguish.

“Move yourself Malcolm, get that pump working lads!” his nibs, the Chief waving them beefy arms of his. “Come on Boys let’s –“
And we were ducking as with a vicious crack a whole section of the house front split and burst send splinters and chips in our direction, red hot they were.

Ducking was no easy task – the layers of padding, the iron boots with their waxy coating, the stiff coats and brass fastenings left us with the choice of squatting or sprawling, and squatting was slow and sprawling left you down for the count like a bleedin’ beetle till a couple of the men could get you up on your feet again. I went for the ground myself as it happens – y’see there’s less smoke and more air at least that way – and I was round the side of the fire lorry so I could afford to lie there for a bit.

I was sort of angled by the road surface so I was actually looking up and I could see the mess the fire was making of the building and I hoped to sweet merry heaven that there weren’t no/one inside. Whatever building it was – and who knew? – it musta been grand at some time coz it was tall and the windows was all wide and the front had sort of paintings or something on the wood. Couldn’t tell you what they was mind, aint never been up on art or much of a reader neither but they was fancy that much was plain.
“Up yer come sunshine!” I was suddenly being hoisted back onto my feet – three men from behind.
“Thanks lads!”

“Get yer ruddy face on then – and don’t hang about!”
This was Bert, he would be going in there with me – we did it like that, six to eight men moving cautious in pairs of two. “Like ants into the Ark,” the chief always said.
Bert was snapping down the visor of his helmet even as he as finished speaking and then he cuffed me on the shoulder for emphasis.
“Alright son, alright!” I yelled, indignant like.
My helmet was still in my hands, I’d clutched it to me like a rugby ball when I took the tumble. Always a bastard to fix on yer head – but I was getting the hang of it. Once the great square thing was slapped over me noggin I jostled through them crew members who were running too and fro with hand buckets, mostly sand and water, and came up to the pump man.

“Alright Doug, hook me up,” I called through the faceplate jerking a thumb up in case the big bruiser couldn’t hear me. Doug was the kind of fella the Chief aspired to be – fat chance of that though, you can’t turn a pair of pliers into an hammer now can yer?
 

I turned around and Doug shoved the tricky air-pipe into the back of the helmet. I wanted to peer behind me and check that the pump was working, that them scamps were doing what they s’posed to and getting the wheel spinning – I never did trust kids – but backwards was out of the question without getting myself wound up and strangled in the air tubing or puling the damn thing out. In any case Doug was done and he sent me packing with a great kick that nearly had me over again. Honestly, I was looking like a right amateur that night.

Never mind that though – Bert had me right, grabbing me by the shoulder straps and fixing us together with a snap. I couldn’t see his face too clear through the bottle glass of his helmet but the polished bits of metal around the face plate showed me a nice reflection of little Alf and Franky cycling away like billy-o to get the air going down the pipes, that reassured me a bit, the kids was doing something right for a change. I gave Bert the same sign as I gave Doug and we turned frontwards ready to take ourselves into the thick of the inferno.
 

end of part one


 

Comments

[stoshagownozad.livejournal.com]

Good start - let's see what's going on!

[wytchcroft.livejournal.com]

thank you:) i'll be posting the rest today, i hope you enjoy it. it's not very long:):)

[browncoat2x2]

Ah, read this backwards! :D

I LOVE the suits! And all the tiny details that make everything going on seem that much more real; diving for cover, having to be hoisted up, the way he'd held his helmet, staggering under the kick to get him going, all that stuff. Really good stuff!

[wytchcroft.livejournal.com]

ha ha!:)
Who's wearing the charm boots today? YOU ARE!:):)

i really appreciate these comments!:):)

[browncoat2x2]

Hee hee!
*dances in my charming boots*

you're welcome! :oD

[wytchcroft.livejournal.com]

i see your furry hat a-wiggling!:)

[wytchcroft.livejournal.com]

ps - did you look at the article in the link?
it's fantastic stuff - which i am a natural sucker for! :)

[browncoat2x2]

That helmet is amazing. It's unbelievable, isn't it, to think of people actually wearing that and going into a burning building; just the weight of it, the bulkiness, the fear of your hoses melting! Goodness...

It *is* so delightfully steampunk too, which I love. :oD

[browncoat2x2]

So many terrible things could happen... imagine a collapse behind you, that, if it didn't cut off your air supply by melting or crushing your hose, would certainly have you trapped there! You'd always have to make your way out exactly the way you came in, without stepping on the hose yourownself! Yeeesh!

[wytchcroft.livejournal.com]

you can understand why the story! the stuff just demanded a response:)
hey and firefighters - hells bells! (lightbulb moment!)
i'm gonna have Ray make a cameo! (rushes off to change character name).

[reginaclarejane.livejournal.com]

Ooh- exciting! And the language here really does justice to the heartiness of the fellas and lends a real sense of being right in the action!
Okay, on to the next part!
:)

[wytchcroft.livejournal.com]

gulp! - thanks!:)