Sitting in the back seat of the fire engine, my heart thudded in my chest.
“Nicole, you do this one,” the officer in charge that day, Peter, said.
“Okay,” I said, nervously. We got to the car that was engulfed in flames and jumped out of the truck. I grabbed the high-pressure hose and with another volunteer, Richard, behind me, I cautiously approached the blaze.
Pointing the nozzle at the flames, I sprayed the hose.
It took about 20 minutes but eventually the fire was out.
“Great work, well done,” Peter said, smiling.
“Thanks,” I grinned. I felt both relieved and absolutely pumped.
It was 2003, I was 16 and had just attended my first fire as a volunteer for Taradale Fire Brigade.
No-one in my family was a firefighter,…
