Dialogue: New York's heroes an awful reminder of firefighter's role

By SUZANNE McFADDEN

On the brow of the hill overlooking Orewa Beach stands a long wooden sign, proclaiming "Ordinary People, Extraordinary Job".

It's not another election hoarding. It's a plea for firefighters.

The Fire Service in recent years has struggled to pull together enough crews to fill its trucks.

The situation was not helped by a bitter 10-year industrial dispute.

And then there was the catastrophe of September 11, when 352 firefighters were crushed to death in the line of duty on the other side of the world.

The New York Fire Department's loss was made all the more apparent by the images of tough guys in uniform sobbing, mourning workmates who had died trying to save lives.

You'd think it would scare people off the job.

Simon Mitchell, the New Zealand service's recruitment manager, feared so, too.

"The first images people saw on TV were so very, very sad," he says.

"But afterwards they watched how much firefighters give back to the community and how worthwhile the job really is."

Already the 0800 recruitment line has been buzzing with calls from people motivated by the deeds of the men and women of the NYFD, who have become the international heroes of the moment.

They are cheered and applauded in the streets of Manhattan between long shifts sifting rubble and carrying a perpetual stream of buckets out of the ruins of the World Trade Center.

It seems everybody wants to be a hero. American toy stores are selling out of children's dress-up uniforms for firefighters and cops.

At the Silverdale Fire Station, where the recruitment sign stands, the 53 firefighters there have been reminded why they chose their vocation, in spite of the dangers.

"I know all our firefighters are feeling strong and united now," says Frank Mackereth, deputy chief of the Silverdale district.

"We all know why we do this job. It has truly touched home."

The initial gut reaction of the crew at the Christchurch City station to last month's terrorist strikes was to fly to New York to help the rescue effort.

Many of them had worked in New York on an exchange visit a couple of years ago. They know men who disappeared in the graveyard of concrete and steel.

"We're all brothers under the skin," says Mr Mitchell, who works in the Christchurch station. "It was our automatic response to want to go over and help. It's just our philosophy: 'As people run away, we run towards it'."

The same reaction occurred in the US. So many rescue crews responded without being asked that the day after the disaster, New York authorities told fire departments to stay home.

The scale of the tragedy is enormous, but New Zealand firefighters are trained to cope with similar emergencies.

"People say that it would never happen here, but there's no reason why it can't," says Don Roper, executive director of United Fire Brigades Association, which looks after the country's volunteer force.

"We need to be prepared - and we are training for it every day, irrespective of the size or magnitude of the incident.

"What's different to a house fire with people trapped inside? Firefighters still have to intervene - to go in and save them. Basically the concept is the same. It's still a dangerous situation."

Since 1955, 20 New Zealand firefighters have died on duty. This country needs more men and women to fight fires, both professionals and volunteers.

Full-time crew number around 1500 and volunteers 11,000. In some towns, there are waiting lists; others are desperately short.

A recruitment drive for full-time staff has started. But it is by no means easy to get a ride on a fire truck.

The selection is long and complicated. Applicants must survive four tiers of elimination before they get to an interview.

They must pass self-assessment, literacy and numeracy tests, a demanding physical exam and a practical course where, most important of all, they must prove they can work in a team under pressure.

At the height of the elongated industrial row, brigades came under fire for being paid even during their down-time.

Yet what has happened in New York proves that firefighters the world over have a formidable job - and we need them to be ready around the clock, to come running in.

"When you need us, you really need us," says Simon Mitchell. "You've got to pay us, and look after us all the time. And you've got to understand, we're not layabouts playing pool in the station all day."

Still, Mr Mitchell and his colleagues would rather people thought the worst of them than have disaster prove why they are so valuable.