Hot, dirty and dangerous: What it’s like on the fire frontline

It’s 2pm on a Monday in October when the fire alert is sent: “5-day strike team - immediate deployment”.

After three quiet years, El Niño is declared and in seeming anticipation fires have erupted along and east of the NSW ranges. Firefighters have been battling the blazes north west of Casino for several weeks. The strike team is being sent to strengthen and deepen containment lines on the Bean Creek fire while the local RFS take some respite. The Bonalbo crews are also dealing with the recent loss of their long-serving and respected senior deputy captain John Holmes while battling the blaze.

Backburning along the border of the Bean Creek fire.Credit: Nick Moir

Within an hour of the alert being sent, a mixture of crews from Sydney and surrounds have indicated their willingness to help. By the following morning, around 25 volunteers - many of whom have taken leave from their jobs and scrambled to organise family life in their absence - have assembled in their trucks and meet at Ourimbah on the Central Coast for the 650km haul to Casino.

Arriving at the Bean Creek fire the following morning, the pain of the loss of a member is clear on the faces of the firefighters. The committed strike team listens as the crew leaders and group captain convey the strategy for the day and outlines the area’s hazards.

It’s hard, steep and dry Eucalypt forest filled with an understorey of lantana which tears at clothes and skin alike as firefighters push into the thick maze to start backburning and deepen the control line which has only just been pushed in by dozers, their presence indicated by a moving pall of dust and clanking of tracks.

Bulldozing containment lines near the Capeen Mountain fire north west of Casino.Credit: Nick Moir

Signs of the battle in the previous days are marked by scribbled defence plans on the back of an abandoned truck and pink fire retardant covering cars, a homestead and surrounding trees.

The backburn is pulled into the main fire against the wind by the seemingly magical tease of well-placed spot and line ignitions. A skilled fire practitioner on a benign day can seem like a puppet master, pulling each fire in a direction it would not normally want to go. The rapidly rising air above each fire creates a vacuum underneath and pulling the surface winds towards it.

Crews start to “black out” using a rake/hoe tool called a McLeod to lift wood and glowing embers, crushing the heat into the dirt. Dry cow pats prove difficult to extinguish and so soon a flurry of glowing cow pat frisbees are flung back away from the edge.

Crews start to “black out” using a rake/hoe tool called a McLeod to lift wood and glowing embers, crushing the heat into the dirt.Credit: Nick Moir

Under hot dry winds any ember that crosses the line can reignite the blaze so within 20 or so metres of the edge every log is upturned, every burning tree extinguished and ashes doused with water. It is hot, dirty, dangerous work. Throughout the day burned trees collapse across the fireground.

The crack and crash of its fall causing all to cringe and several times, crews have to scatter as one groans, cracks and falls in an explosion of burning, wood, ash and embers.

Despite the conditions the crews banter and gee each other up: “Did you miss your smashed avocado toast, Cottage Point?”; “I’m glad Eastern Creek is here, we can get them to hotwire the truck if we lose the keys!”

The strike team crews are a mix of ages and occupations though mostly men on this deployment. It is a great leveller, 60-year-olds taking orders from members half their age or younger and that’s how they like it.

Smoke lingers of the fire reduction site.Credit: Nick Moir

Terry Brett is covered in scratches, dirt, blood and ash. A member of the remote area firefighting team, he has seen many campaigns across the state in areas only accessible by helicopter.

He despises the lantana, but the kind shine in his eyes belies the enjoyment he takes from doing this brutal arduous work. His satisfaction is replicated across the crews as they relive the day in dying light on a nearby dry pasture and a chopper takes one last pass over the fireground.

Terry Brett , RFS volunteer and RAFT member, after pushing through hundreds of metres of lantana. Credit: Nick Moir

The two-and-a-half-hour drive back to our accommodation is filled with laughter and gentle ribbing.

There is a stubborn satisfaction in achieving our task and helping our new Bonalbo friends in this difficult time, also knowing that one day our own districts may need help and that these hard-wearing volunteers will answer our own call for help. In the meantime the strike team requests continue for Kempsey, Inverell, Scone…

End of day: crew members take stock after a day of dousing flames and strengthening containment lines.Credit: Nick Moir

Nick Moir is the Herald’s chief photographer and has covered fires as a photographer since 1997. He is also a volunteer firefighter in the northern beaches Ingleside brigade. This was his first out-of-area deployment.