"Weren't you guys trying to grow something out here a while back?"
The wagon driver turned from the engine's pump panel and rubbed a thoughtful hand on his chin.
"Yeah, we had tried growing corn out back of the firehouse… don't think it worked, though."
As he turned back to the engine, I couldn't seem to restrain the incredulous smile that played at my lips.
Where in the hell did they assign me?
—————
Several shifts back, I received orders from on high that I was to report to my permanent assignment. So, I said goodbye to Southeast D.C. and ventured northward to a station colloquially known as "The Farm."
(And yes, that is in fact Foghorn Leghorn on the patch.)
Engine 26 is located in Northeast Washington, in a neighborhood called Brentwood. I can't speak much for the area—since I'm still just barely learning how to get around—but it seems like a pretty standard layout; some nice stuff, some ghetto stuff, and a whole bunch of high-potential-to-burn-to-the-ground stuff.
I'm never certain what to expect in a new house, so I try to keep quiet and let more senior firefighters (read: everyone who's not me) be the first to say anything; in the case of certain guys, they're the first to say everything. Much to my relief, the crew has proved to be significantly more pleasant than I expected. In addition to Engine 26, "The Farm" is also the quarters of Truck 15. All together, the two crews have been acting as very helpful resources for the wonderful chunk of my life known as my probationary period.
Luckily, the guys at E15 were nice enough to give me a heads up about being a "probie," so I had no trouble falling into the "hey rookie, make the coffee, answer the phones, put the flag up" routine.
Now, I just have to weather the probationary questions and official tests—two of which will be administered by the First Battalion Chief.
Monthly tests… learning the local alarm area… remembering EMS protocols (why did I become a paramedic again?)… completing computerized trip sheets… cleaning up…
Some days my head spins. Everyone says that this little whirlwind will all be over soon; I'm not sure if that's true or not, but I do know this: it's one hell of a way to keep busy.
Study hard, rookie. Study hard.
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