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When they hear the term "Combat Troops," most people think of foreign lands and far away places. Most people forget that they have combat troops stationed right here at home ... these troops are their Fire Fighter

Tomorrow they will he husbands and fathers, perhaps your next door neighbor, but today they are suited and armed for a combat just as grim and just as deadly as any in the jungles and rice paddies of Vietnam. But, unlike any military engagement, when Fire Fighters go into battle it can only end with the death of the enemy ... and sometimes with the death of the Fire Fighter.

In the early morning hours of December 20th, 1969 the troops of the Detroit Fire Department's Ninth Battalion were sent into battle at Woodward and Hague, in the North central section of the city. The enemy was well entrenched and raging out of control. It soon became apparent that more troops would be needed to defeat the mindless howling beast which confronted them. A second alarm was sounded and more men were committed to the attack. Still the fire roared its defiance until the third and fourth waves of troops were finally able to kill it.

Every Fire Fighter knows that fire can be a coldly impersonal and murderous enemy, and he knows that he cannot always stand back at a safe distance to fight it. Often he must seek out the fire in dark and unfamiliar places where it lurks in billowing smoke, waiting to catch him in its terrible embrace.

Fire Fighter THOMAS H. KILLION, responding with Engine 35, the first company of troops to arrive at the scene, knew the character of his enemy. He knew that he could expect no mercy from that enemy, and he got none ... he died in combat. The enemy was defeated, as it always is, but the cost ... was so very high.

When death in battle comes to a Fire Fighter, as it did to TOM KIILION and it will again to other brave young men, it is never a pretty thing to see. When a defeated fire gives up its victims, it is a dark and wet and awful time for the "victors."

The lost one's comrades, drenched and grimy from the fight, stand shocked and helplessly by, unashamed of the tears on their faces as the lifeless body is carried out, and each one says his own silent prayer, "Treat him tenderly Lord, he was our brother . . . and we loved him."

This was submitted by Mike McGraw

John, good luck on your message board. This was printed in the Fire Fighter magazine in 1970 and it rings more true today than ever.

Mike McGraw

Lou Bitten was at the Woodward and Hague fire and sent me this description of that fire.

Hi John, just finished reading the article furnished by McGraw. Still have
tears running down my face. So my spelling and composition might not be
the greatest. I was at that fire that night and remember it vividly. Don't
know what I had for dinner last night but still have those moments
stamped in my mind for ever. When we finally breached the back wall the
water in the basement was a couple of feet deep. We started stumbling
around and came up with a plan .Dick Gerber, Gumshoe, and myself locked
hand and began making sweeps through the basement. After a few we got
lucky and saw a piece of boot in the water. It turned out to be Tom. The
three of us picked him up and really struggled to get through the back
door. We were in waist deep water, the fire was still rolling and it felt
like he weighed 400 pounds. The boys never stopped or quit. When we
finally got to the stairs going up out of the basement they were nothing
but ice. We backpedaled as fast as we could and finally made the top. Joe
D was there and told Bill E, No more pictures. When we took off his MSA
we saw the steam and first thought he was breathing. But it was a false
hope. His rubber coat came apart like tissue paper. Tom was a great friend
and good Firefighter. The scene in back of that store is never going to
be forgotten by a few of us. Some truly great firefighters rose to the
occasion that night and our careers are over but we will never forget
the intensity of combat.