MAYHEM MADE SIMPLE: FIREMEN LEARN TO BATTLE BLAZE RIGHT WAY

To a novice standing outside a burning building, it often looks like firefighters are not doing a whole lot to put it out.

They walk around the outside of the building, generally doing a lot of pointing and talking to each other, while dragging hoses and ladders around. Some of the braver souls dart in and out of the building as their air supplies dictate.

Then miraculously the fire is out; the show is over.

But from the inside -- crouched behind the man with the hose -- it all makes perfect sense.

"When you get right down to it, there's a lot of order and regimentation in this insanity," said Cape Girardeau Fire Chief Robert L. Ridgeway. "There has to be. When there is no order, someone gets hurt."

On Thursday, the fire department burned a story-and-a-half house at 1117 N. Main to the ground. The house was one of several condemned by the city after last year's flooding. Firefighters have spent a greater part of the spring doing similar training exercises north and south of the city.

But before completely razing the house Thursday, Battalion Chief Mark Hasheider set three smaller fires, challenging veteran firefighters to put them out.

In the midst of their ranks Thursday was a rookie Southeast Missourian reporter who learned much from the experience.

The first time firefighters entered the house after a room in the northwest side of the home had been ignited (with the aid of a little bit of kerosene, wooden pallets and straw bails). Black smoke hung thick in the air.

When the firefighters crouched low to the floor, they could watch the flames climb the walls of the rear room. After a blast of water was directed at the flames, the entire house filled with thick, white smoke -- so thick it was nearly impossible to see the man in front of you who was crouched only inches from your knees.

"White smoke is good," Ridgeway said. "It means the water has hit the fire. The white smoke mainly consists of steam, which means we're headed in the right direction."

Then the ladder company of the department "arrived on the scene" and knocked some holes in the walls, setting up large, gasoline-powered fans to move the smoke out of the house.

When firefighters could finally see their foe, the men holding the hose moved forward, again driving the flames back.

Before the firefighters were called into the house a second time, Hasheider let the fire spread and grow, as it was being fed by fresh air pouring through the holes in the walls from the prior run.

The heat inside the building was so intense, that plaster popped off the ceiling and fell to the floor, smoking. The fire ran up the walls of the northwest room of the house, and out onto the ceiling of the front room.

Despite wearing layers upon layers of fire gear, the heat was so intense it felt like you were standing next to a bonfire in shorts and a T-shirt.

Again, firefighters knocked the flames down, blasting a fresh gust of steam toward the men with the hose. Firefighters ducked their heads and let the steam roll over them on its way out the front windows and door.

When firefighters entered a third time, the flames had engulfed the southeast room of the house, but were burning freely due to a lack of doors and windows. It took no time for firefighters to knock the flames down and clear the smoke from the house. But even after they did, the walls were radiating an intense heat that could be felt standing 2 feet away.

When the house was left to burn to the ground, the fire department again utilized its ladder company -- this time with the ladder truck itself.

The ladder was extended out over the house, as both nozzles in the basket spewed hundreds of gallons of water per minute on the house next to the one being laid to rest.

"You can see the steam coming off that house," said Fire Capt. Mearlin Allen, pointing to the house due north of the one ablaze. "We have to keep it watered down so it doesn't decide to catch fire, too."

The heat in the basket, two stories above the burning home was intense, even with the water being poured in the direction of the flames.

After each exercise, Hasheider met with the firefighters to discuss what went well, and what did not.

"After a while, you start to have a pretty good feeling about what you're going into, by the way or where the smoke is coming out of the building," said Ridgeway. "But there are no constants. Everything changes.

"We do this kind of thing to keep our men on their toes and prepared for any situation," he added. "It just makes good sense."