When I am called to duty, God, wherever flame may rage,
Give me strength to save some life, whatever be its age.
Help me embrace a little child, before it is too late,
Or save an older person from, the horror of that fate.
Enable me to be alert and hear the weakest shout,
And quickly and efficiently, to put the fire out.
I want to fill my calling, and to give the best in me,
To guard my every neighbor, and protect his property.
And if according to my fate, I am to lose my life,
Please Bless with your protecting hand, my children
and my wife.
What is a Fireman
He’s the guy next door - a man’s man with the memory of a little boy.
He has never gotten over the excitement of engines and sirens and danger.
He’s a guy like you and me with warts and worries and unfulfilled dreams.
Yet he stands taller than most of us.
He’s a fireman.
He puts it all on the line when the bell rings.
A fireman is at once the most fortunate and the least fortunate of men.
He’s a man who saves lives because he has seen too much death.
He’s a gentle man because he has seen the awesome
power of violence out of control.
He’s responsive to a child’s laughter because his arms have held
too many small bodies that will never laugh again.
He’s a man who appreciates the simple pleasures of life -
hot coffee held in numb, unbending fingers - a warm bed for bone
and muscle compelled beyond feeling - the camaraderie of brave men -
the divine peace and selfless service of a job well done in the name of all men.
He doesn’t wear buttons or wave flags or shout obscenities.
When he marches, it is to honor a fallen comrade.
He doesn’t preach the brotherhood of man.
He lives it.