Page 83 of Anchor Point

Then I set to work. “Lieutenant. SITREP. I’m without comms.”

He was busy working the pumps, looking at the hoses and back to the gauges. “Engines from Two, Three, and Four are en route.”

In that moment, I felt like the most useless chief ever. I didn’t have a radio. I couldn’t take scene command. I didn’t have bunker gear. All I could do was stand there and?—

“Extra radio in the cab, Chief,” he yelled over the noise of the pumper.

I went to grab the radio and established command. Mac would hear my voice and know Rosie was on scene with me.

Water flowed into the hoses as the first two interior crews approached the structure. Despite the personnel packed up and ready to go, and the ones waiting to go in next, we’d need more backup if we were going to save the historic building. We needed all hands on deck, plus mutual aid. I made a quick call to the county chief and requested help to cover zones and provide an additional aerial truck.

Moments later, a rescue squad truck and a second engine from the outlying stations pulled in.

The police department established a perimeter. A relief ambulance stationed behind the trucks.

With a glance to ensure that Rosie was still safely tucked where I’d left her, I walked toward the opposite end of the courthouse to get a visual of the crew entering.

I saw Mac pointing, leading his crew. His bunker gear hung on his hips, jacket on but unbuttoned. Well-used helmet on his head.

Seeing him was a relief I hadn’t known I’d needed. Just one moment of clarity and stability. Mac was that touchstone.

I clicked my mic to tell him that mutual aid had been requested. Nothing. My radio was dead.

Jogging across the square to him, I called his name as I got closer. He scanned me quickly, and his expression lightened almost imperceptibly.

“Do you have an extra radio in your truck?” I asked. “Mine died, and we’ve got flames showing on the first floor. South side. I need you to relay that.”

Around us, the square was packed with firefighters in bunker gear. Plump hoses filled with water crisscrossed the lawn. Smoke rose in the early evening sky. Red lights flashed from the tops of the engines, reflecting off the glass of nearby businesses. The whole scene was chaotic, and yet, it had a beautiful rhythm to it.

“No radio.” He scowled, yelling over the drone of the diesel engine. “The damn spare won’t hold a charge.”

Inadequate equipment on a life-and-death scene—the idea made me nauseous.

Things had to change. I’d started the process, but there was still more to accomplish.

I pitched the useless equipment into the truck. “I need you to establish command, because I have no comms.” I knew full well this was not my best option. As chief, I should be in charge of the scene. But without the ability to communicate, my hands were tied.

“Okay.” Ever confident, capable. That was my Mac. “Where’s Rosie?” The worry in his voice mirrored my own and nearly set me over the edge.

“She’s at the back of Engine One. I’m going to check on her now. I’ve called in mutual aid. County should be here with their aerial soon.”

Relief flooded his features, I imagined both at the news that Rosie was fine and that help was on the way. “Good.”

“If this thing gets any hotter, we’ll have to go to defensive stand.”

His jaw went taut. “Give us a chance, Chief. We can’t give up. Trust us. Let’s see what we can do.”

Of all the people on this scene, I trusted Mac the most. He was the only one I would’ve relinquished command to. He stood before me, tall and proud and strong and one hundred percent ready to give his all.

With a nod and a long look that I hoped said so many things I couldn’t voice, I turned over command, taking his radio and announcing, “911, NFD 1201 turning command to NFD 1222.”

“10-4, NFD 1201. Establishing NFD 1222 as Incident Command.”

I stepped back and watched as Mac shifted into leader mode.

In that moment, I’d never felt like more of a failure. My crew needed me. The citizens depended on me, and I was left without a radio. No way to dictate decisions, to support my crews. They could get my decisions through Mac, but it wouldn’t be my voice directing them. Letting them know I was in charge, that they could trust that I would take care of them.

I prayed that the mayor wasn’t on scene and watching me hand over command.

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