Be a Man. Put on Your Purse

The radio strap (more commonly known in my department as a purse) first started to make its appearance in my agency about 10 years ago.  It is an available, yet not required, piece of equipment that the majority of my department chooses not to wear.  In some circles it is incredibly belittled, and personally, I heaped my share of ridicule upon individuals who wore it. Somehow I ignorantly overlooked the fact that its use would have stopped the aggravating occurrence of my radio falling out of my damn chest pocket.  Instead, I would just periodically flail around in the darkness 'til I'd come across my lifeline to the outside world and stuff it back into its useless holder. I wear a strap now because I have come to recognize its vital use, and I try to convince others on an individual basis to do so as well.

Just the other day, I was speaking with a good friend, one hell of a fireman and a newly made officer, about the reasons why he chooses not to wear one.  He told me, straight faced, that he personally had never had his radio fall from his turnouts on the drill ground or fire scene.  Trying to keep the "Motherfucka Please" look from my features, I suggested he wear it not for himself, but for his crew. At this point "The Look" must have started to cross my face, because the conversation got awkward.  So I figured I needed to take a step back and try a different tact another time.  On my drive home the next morning, I realized I had to make it personal. That's what we do on the job, right?  It's one of the powerful ways in which we learn.  Mistakes beget growth, both on an individual and a collective basis, if shared and learned from.  So I've decided to tell how my personal change of heart about the strap occurred.  It happened about 5 years ago as I was trying to help a woman, a woman on fire.

The box came in right after house work, say 10 am.  It was in our first due, and I recognized not only the address but the apartment number as well.  I was riding the Irons that day, so as we arrived I was out of the jumpseat fast, tools in hand.  Two story center hallway apartment, nothing showing.  Our Engine was on a hydrant behind us, and I could see their B team grabbing a can.  I knew that they'd be right behind me, so I hauled ass to the second floor.  I also knew that the door would be unlocked because the woman who lived there was a parapalegic who called us frequently when she fell from bed.  As I entered the front room, I could see moderate smoke coming from her bedroom, along with agonized screams for help.  Turns out that it was only a mattress fire, but she was still on it with the side safety bar locked in place.  I reached into the bed and snatched out her small frame, smothering her burning clothes with my turnouts and gloves. She had been smoking in bed on home oxygen.  I realized this after her now smoldering clothes began to reignite from the O2 flowing from the melted tubing wound about her.  After I tore the tubing away from the cylinder and stopped the flames, I reached for my radio mic to give a report and call for an ambulance, but it wasn't there.  Her writhing, coupled with my actions, had ripped my radio off my turnouts, and I couldn't see it on the floor.  Fortunately, after one dumbstruck moment, the Engine made the room.  I forcibly grabbed one of them and called for ALS help over his radio as he stood there as my mic stand.  We then swooped her up and took her out to an ambulance that had thankfully already been added to the box.  I never saw her again, but I will never forget her.  If I was wearing a strap would it have changed her outcome?  No.  But it would have taken away that momentary feeling of ineptness I had when I realized my radio was gone. The feeling of being part of the problem, not its fix.  Honestly, I've never really talked about this event, because when I think about it, I can still hear her pleading, and I remember that sense of ineptitude.  I'm sharing this story now to help better frame my opinion about the importance of the strap.  To help convey its true nature as a vital piece of fire equipment, not a piece of imagined east coast flair.  I couldn't tell you how many previous times I've had my radio fall out during drills and fires, but there were a number of them.  I can tell you that after this call, I never wanted it to happen again.  And since I've worn a strap, it never has.

I'm proud of my department for many reasons, one being the mandatory use of the strap for all new recruits over the past few years.  Probies learn from day one of its importance and ease of use. However I have my issues with my department as well.  Those of you who have attended a Brothers in Battle class have heard of the two firemen from my agency who fell through the first floor to the basement at a good working fire.  Yet the significance of one of their radios being torn from their chest pocket during the fall and the continuous keying of its mic on the fire channel by a piece of debris does not carry the importance in my department that I feel it deserves.  We all know our radios are one of the most vital tools we carry on the fire scene.  Not only for the routine situational updates, but more importantly for those worst case scenarios we cannot anticipate. Shouldn't we ensure for ourselves and our crewmates that it is always there when needed?  This post is meant for my friend and for those in my department and elsewhere who ignore or who are simply ignorant of the strap's vital function: to protect our lifeline.  So please.  Be a man, and put on your purse.

An indepth report, on the strap vs the pocket, can be found by Googling- Fairfax Radio Report.