Taking the heat

Visibility is zero as Firefighter Mark Tiu enters a vacated room. A fire alarm has been sounded and he is one of the first to arrive at the disaster scene. Crawling on all fours, he gropes his way past tables and chairs, searching for any bodies lying on the floor. At one corner he feels the unmistakable figure of a person. He calmly pushes aside a number of obstacles and quickly drags the victim to safety.

Outside, Mark’s colleagues greet him with smiles on their faces. He heaves a sigh of relief, then pulls the blindfold from his eyes and stuffs it into his asbestos coveralls. Happily, this "rescue" is nothing more than a training exercise. The "victim" is, in fact, Firefighter Jason Yu, another teammate. Mark is a 19-year-old college student, while Jason, at 22 years old, is a sales agent for a trading firm. Both of them are veteran members of the Fil-Chinese Volunteer Firefighters Association.

Commonly known as the "Binondo Volunteer Firefighters", this popular yet little-known army of part-timers has gained quite a reputation among Manila’s citizens. To the fire-stricken home owner they are indeed a welcome sight, their bright red firetrucks plowing through traffic with lights flashing and sirens blaring. They risk life and limb on a regular basis, without payment of any sort.

Wishing to learn more about this distinguished group, I head out to Chinatown for a day with the troops of the Divisoria Fire Station. Established four years after the huge Divisoria fire of 1960, this unit is one of the first volunteer groups established in Manila. To date they have battled thousands of fires – without ever losing a fireman.

"Being a volunteer firefighter isn’t the full-time job that most people think", notes Oscar Sy, the Divisoria Fire Marshall. "Most days we’re on our regular jobs like everyone else. Only during an emergency do we drop everything and head for the (fire) station."

On this quiet day, however, his crew is holding a training session. I watch the firefighters in full battle gear, scrambling to attach a firehose to their massive 8-wheeler tanker. In a matter of seconds they drench their "target" with a powerful stream of water. Other exercises are also performed: Jason once again plays the "victim", this time to be brought out a balcony and down a ladder. Divisoria’s firemen, like other volunteer units, undergo intensive tutelage by professionals in the firefighting community.

Oscar gives a nod of approval at the end of the session. These firefighters, he says, are truly commited men who are ready to take on any disaster. In fact, their sorties aren’t limited only to fire emergencies. They also respond to other calamities, offering help where it might be needed.

Much to my dismay (and relief), the day passes without incident. Though my thirst for action will remain unquenched, I consider myself lucky to have met these noble individuals. My mind wanders to a fire that I covered a few months back, when I witnessed a crew of volunteers enter a burning building. Despite the intense blaze (it was a general alarm, the worst kind) they clambered up the ladder and into a window, carrying a hose with them. A few seconds later they all scrambled out, followed by a fiery backdraft that shot five feet off the facade, sending waves of heat to the sidewalk below. I saw one of them hang on for dear life on a nearby flagpole. Visibly shaken, they gathered their wits and waited for the backdraft to run its course. Then they promptly regrouped, went up the ladder and continued the fight.

The fire was stopped a few hours later. The next morning those guys were probably back at their day jobs. A little sore, perhaps, and maybe carrying some burns–yet satisfied that they had done their duty, and once again triumphed over their deadly, fiery adversary.