- Joined
- Oct 11, 2018
Once upon a time, this Diet Coke swiller was fully intending on going into volunteer fire fighting after military service. On first ship, we had quite a few fires that I was involved in fighting - a pretty decent fire in a rather large electrical cabinet (big blowers that smoked out), a couple of fires in pumps (one electrical, one actually started by oil that spread into lagging), a grease fire, a couple of trash fires. Also fought some flooding, which was soggy and not fun.
Then on second ship, we had a turbine generator quite literally explode. I was in the space next door shooting the shit with my guys (might have been the on watch supervisor at the time). The entire damned ship shook, the explosion was audible through the damned walls and over the noise of the space, every electrical breaker started tripping and bus transfers started shifting, lights flickered, fans failed. I bolted to the other box because it sounded like it came from there. In the forty seconds it took me to get there, the space was already filled with smoke. I legitimately panicked thinking my guys in that box were dead. Got into the space less than 2 minutes later once I got firefighting gear on. Found everyone alive but actively fighting the largest fire I'd ever seen (and this includes the deliberately set ones they pit you against at firefighting school). We had it out in less than 5 minutes, but the damage was extensive.
For 2 weeks after that, thanks to the damage caused by that fire, fan motor controllers kept bursting into flames. We had a fire in our fucking ventilation system. I 'lost' two Sailors to PTSD (as in they freaked out so fucking badly they couldn't go into the plant anymore without sobbing, pissing themselves and/or mentally shutting down to the point that they became utterly useless - since they couldn't do their jobs anymore, they were processed out).
Sure, thanks to those experiences, I break out into cold fucking sweats around fires that aren't nicely contained. I feel sick whenever I see news footage of ship-board fires. I gave up on any thought of volunteer fire-fighting despite all my training because I can still see those flames in my nightmares and feel the heat burning my face around my mask, feel the burning through my coveralls and my boots sticking to the deck as they started to melt; I can't imagine voluntarily running to flames again unless it's in my vicinity and I have to immediately respond, because I start to choke up and hyperventilate even when taking action. We had firework mortars fall over and fire into a buddy's garage a year after the generator explosion - me and one of my guys that'd been involved in fighting that fire sprang into action without thinking and had extinguishers on it before it blew, despite the fact that the garage was starting to go up (it went sputtering up against a wall with paper shit everywhere around it - took a bit to put all that out). Damned near passed out after, having to crouch down and get my breath back. My buddy that fought it with me just flopped into the grass. It took us a while, but we were grinning and joking about it within an hour. So PTSD? Nope.
Maybe fire isn't equivalent to having to drink skim milk and watching meth mom and meth dad smoke their lives away, but holy fuck, how mentally weak do you have to be to not be capable of moving forward with life and taking the opportunities granted by continued livelihood one step at a time?
Oh, wait. That doesn't win you victim points. Never mind, I r dum.
Then on second ship, we had a turbine generator quite literally explode. I was in the space next door shooting the shit with my guys (might have been the on watch supervisor at the time). The entire damned ship shook, the explosion was audible through the damned walls and over the noise of the space, every electrical breaker started tripping and bus transfers started shifting, lights flickered, fans failed. I bolted to the other box because it sounded like it came from there. In the forty seconds it took me to get there, the space was already filled with smoke. I legitimately panicked thinking my guys in that box were dead. Got into the space less than 2 minutes later once I got firefighting gear on. Found everyone alive but actively fighting the largest fire I'd ever seen (and this includes the deliberately set ones they pit you against at firefighting school). We had it out in less than 5 minutes, but the damage was extensive.
For 2 weeks after that, thanks to the damage caused by that fire, fan motor controllers kept bursting into flames. We had a fire in our fucking ventilation system. I 'lost' two Sailors to PTSD (as in they freaked out so fucking badly they couldn't go into the plant anymore without sobbing, pissing themselves and/or mentally shutting down to the point that they became utterly useless - since they couldn't do their jobs anymore, they were processed out).
Sure, thanks to those experiences, I break out into cold fucking sweats around fires that aren't nicely contained. I feel sick whenever I see news footage of ship-board fires. I gave up on any thought of volunteer fire-fighting despite all my training because I can still see those flames in my nightmares and feel the heat burning my face around my mask, feel the burning through my coveralls and my boots sticking to the deck as they started to melt; I can't imagine voluntarily running to flames again unless it's in my vicinity and I have to immediately respond, because I start to choke up and hyperventilate even when taking action. We had firework mortars fall over and fire into a buddy's garage a year after the generator explosion - me and one of my guys that'd been involved in fighting that fire sprang into action without thinking and had extinguishers on it before it blew, despite the fact that the garage was starting to go up (it went sputtering up against a wall with paper shit everywhere around it - took a bit to put all that out). Damned near passed out after, having to crouch down and get my breath back. My buddy that fought it with me just flopped into the grass. It took us a while, but we were grinning and joking about it within an hour. So PTSD? Nope.
Maybe fire isn't equivalent to having to drink skim milk and watching meth mom and meth dad smoke their lives away, but holy fuck, how mentally weak do you have to be to not be capable of moving forward with life and taking the opportunities granted by continued livelihood one step at a time?
Oh, wait. That doesn't win you victim points. Never mind, I r dum.
Thread tax: AL is fat and stinky and stupid. I would not risk being in close enough proximity to hear her vapid bullshit nor smell her foul stench, much less get close enough to have sex with her.
Edited to remove electrical ratings because reasons
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