Monday, 20 August 2012

What is a Fireman?


He’s a man’s man with the sharp memory of a little boy who never got over
the excitement of engines and sirens and smoke and anger.

He’s a guy like you and me with warts and worries and unfulfilled dreams.

Yet he stands taller than most of us.

He’s a fireman.

He puts it all on the line when the bell rings.

A fireman is at once the most fortunate and the least fortunate of men.

He’s a man who savours life because he has seen too much of death.
He’s a gentle man because he has seen to much
of the awesome power of violent forces out of control.
He’s a man responsive to a child’s laughter because
his arms have held too many small bodies that will never laugh again.

He’s a man who appreciates the simple pleasures of life,
hot coffee held in numb, unbending fingers, the flush of fresh air pumping through
 smoke and fire convulsing lungs,
a warm bed for bone and muscle beyond feeling,
the comraderie of brave men,
the divine peace of selfless service and a job well done in the name of all men.

He doesn’t wear buttons or wave flags or shout obscenities
 and when he marches, it is to honour a fallen comrade.

He doesn’t preach the brotherhood of man.
He lives it.

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