When human power beats fire power
Heroes, heroines of inferno
WHEN a flood of wax spilled during last weekend’s warehouse inferno, on to paving outside, fire engines inside were suddenly in danger of being caught between two raging fires.
Fireman Mduduzi Ngubeni had the job of walking inside to deliver the order to the vehicles to retreat, earning him the job description “Walking SMS” among his colleagues.
Once outside, visibility was zero in the smoke and the drivers had to use the lights of the vehicle ahead to make their way across the huge, potentially dangerous puddle of wax.
“It was my first time seeing wax in that volume,” said Shalako Comeroden, who thought to himself, “you’re going to make magic” as he brought the vehicle out of harm’s way.
They are members of the platoon that was on duty at Durban’s Central Fire Station when the bell sounded, alerting them of the fire their divisional commissioner Trevor Stevens said was without a doubt, Durban’s biggest. He has served the city for 37 years.
“The next biggest was at Cato Creek in the early 1970s and it wasn’t even half as big.”
His voice was among the many shouts of instructions, ordering things to be done.
“When a fire is happening you can’t talk normally. It’s noisy. It’s not really about shouting. It’s about getting a message across,” he said.
Stevens said it had been difficult to even describe the magnitude of the fire, which was in a warehouse that could fit 35 soccer fields under one roof and was 650m in length. The puddle of wax was the size of a soccer field.
He also emphasised that fire fighting over 10 hours, from 9.30am to 7.30pm when his platoon went off shift, was exhausting.“You sweat, you lose nutrients and that cannot be replaced by a drink of water. It’s physically and mentally draining.”
Stevens said he was extremely proud of the team who went in well equipped and were super fit.
Alson Thabede said he had been introduced to his career through running friends, but said fire fighting was “a different story” to running.
“You don’t know where the tears come from as you keep thinking, I must save something.” Ngubeni went on to say that the heat of the moment – going in and out of the building equipped with breathing apparatus that allows for 35 minutes of fire fighting – there was even room in his mind for a quick surprise on suddenly seeing a colleague joining him in the action. “I thought Bateman was on leave,” said Ngubeni. Indeed he was.
“I was at home in Glenwood,” said Justin Bateman. “I had just gone outside to get some sun and suddenly there was no sun. When I saw there was a huge black cloud I knew it was a huge fire and that my guys would be on to it.
“So I went to be there with them.” Being “in” meant sometimes getting cooked on the skin, inside their jackets.
“You can feel it. The heat goes through your jacket,” Thembela Hlongwane recalled.
When this happens, you step back a metre or two, said Segran Moodley.
For Witness Ngcobo, the heat penetrated a little too far. She suffered shoulder burns and was whisked off to St Augustine’s Hospital. “While I was being treated, I worried about the rest of the crew. I wondered what could happen to them. When I got home I sat glued to the television and chatted to other crews.”
Grace Masango kept the firefighters in water, rushing between the scene and Jacobs Fire Station to fill up tankers. She also worked on the hoses.
“The whole department – people from all regions – were there. We had enough manpower and woman power.”
The platoon may be the city’s heroes but they praised residents for providing food, drinks and cards on which pupils wrote messages of gratitude and admiration.