C'mon...almost the entire British armed services were forced to cover as firemen during the fireman's strike, we got a week's worth of 'training', issued a pair of wellies (wrong size), a plastic helmet and a donkey jacket...then we had to degrease the Green Godesses and replace all the perished 1940's rubber and canvas hoses which had been sitting in civil defence warehouses for nearly 50 years...then we threw ourselves into burning buildings with wet rags over our faces (very few of us were trained to use BA) and set to hosing up the carnage following serious road accidents.
We were as akin to proper firefighters as we were to wandering troupes of Malasian trampolinists...a proper Fred Karno's army. We tried our best but did more damage to property through our over enthusiasm and ignorance than we prevented...and if it hadn't been for some of the local fire chiefs who broke their strike action as a mercy purely to stop us killing ourselves, the casualty rates among us would have been worse than your average shooting war.
Did we save lives? Sure. We might have lacked modern equipment and training but we didn't lack courage...but proper firemen we certainly weren't
In the space of 2 years, 77-79, I covered the fireman's strike, the ambulance drivers strike and the fuel tanker drivers strike and doubled up as a bin lorry driver when they went on strike too... amongst others. It was a tough time in the UK...strangely enjoyable for us as servicemen getting to play at different jobs of course but hard on the professionals (and their families) whose jobs we were forced to cover. (Refusal, regardless of our personal sympathies for the strikers, due to our sworn oath of allegiance to the crown, would have levied a charge of sedition).
Back then in 1977, as a professional soldier with the rank of Corporal, a fully trained tank commander with 2 active duty tours in Northern Ireland under my belt, I was paid less than a junior traffic warden
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