Embracing The Embers

Cameron Caine stood in soft powdery grey ash that was so deep it nearly spilled over the top of his police boots. He could still feel the heat of the ash through the leather. The Kinglake senior constable had gone with local CFA captain Paul Hendrie to look for friends in Ward Street, to the west of the Kinglake township. Although the sun was up it was still eerily dark with the ash floating through the air like a winter mist coating everything a ghostly off-white. A once vibrant local street was now chillingly quiet. No dogs barked. There were no sounds of traffic. No insects, no birds. No children. Everything was gone. The houses, the sheds, the people. Objects in the distance faded to a dull monochrome. Cameron and Paul were too bewildered to speak. They knew deep down their words would fall well short of describing what they were seeing. It was 7 a.m. February 8, 2009. About 13 hours since fires had ripped through the unsuspecting Kinglake Ranges communities, and about 13 and a half hours since Cameron had left for work and gazed at a stunning sunset filtering though the trees of the Kinglake National Park. It was only when that “sunset” began to flicker and move that he realized the fire was on Kinglake’s doorstep, unannounced. Turn the clock forward seven months and Cameron is standing alongside Australian Prime Minister Kevin Rudd on the Woori Yallock football oval in the Yarra Valley to the east of Melbourne. It’s the local grand final day. Cheer squad members from the Melbourne Demons, an Australian Football League club in the City, have come along to help and in blustery conditions hold on tightly to the remnants of the green and gold banner they’d made especially for the Kinglake side. Kevin, Cameron and five thousand others are waiting for Ross Buchanan to stride out onto the ground and lead them in a rendition of the National Anthem. But the organisers are getting edgy, Ross is missing. Cameron and Ross had both been to hell, Ross hadn’t come back. ----------------------------------------------------- When the fire arrives- Ross couldn’t see more than 20 metres because of the smoke, although he was vaguely aware of eucalypts combusting as if flamethrowers had been pointed at them .There were also loud explosions in the distance. Next door neighbour Wally Spezza and his 15 year old son Chris, Macca’s best mate, were trying to keep the flames away from their house while across the road Helen was fighting the fire with the pump Ross had fixed earlier in the day. Ross knew the CFA trucks wouldn’t be coming to his help, but where were the fire bombers and the helicopters they’d seen in action in 2006? Aircraft had in fact been requested as early as 12.30 that day but were ineffective because of the massive amount of smoke blanketing the region. From his backyard Ross could see young Chris Spezza on the roof of their home courageously trying to douse the flames with a hose. Chris was being showered by embers and was also dodging dangerous fireballs that were being hurled in his direction by the gusting winds. The fireballs broke free from a large conifer tree that was shredded by the scorching flames and winds. Wally left them momentarily and ran across the road to check on Helen, who’d been joined by two other people. All three were huddled under the carport with their hoses. A paddock of cleared land behind her house was the only thing saving it from destruction. Wally noticed his garage was on fire, the galvanized iron seemed to be burning. It looked as if the air itself was burning. How could that be, he wondered? Again the sky turned black and it was like a mini tornado of smoke and fire and wind was circling their houses and bearing down on them. Wally then saw something he’ll never forget, something that was emblematic of the helplessness of humans on that catastrophic day. Ross was standing in his backyard, where it meets the National Park; a diminutive figure with a humble hose in his hand. Monster flames, so huge that from Wally’s vantage point he couldn’t see the top of them, were shooting into the darkened sky. The tree canopy being consumed by the flames was almost 20 metres high and the fire seared off at least that distance again before disappearing into the smoke. It was a tsunami made of fire not water and it was as if their homes were helpless yachts trying to survive in a sea of flames. No sooner would they hose down one spotfire in the backyard than another would spring up elsewhere as those gale force winds applied a monster hair dryer to the dampened areas. It was becoming hopeless, Wally screamed out to Ross that they had to get out!! He described Ross’s expression as a look that said “I’d just stared at hell”. Ross dropped the hose and ran. He grabbed the laptop, the cat, the bird and a few other items and leapt into his panel van. All afternoon Ross had been focused on saving their home, now his concentration turned to saving his own life and he backed the van out into National Park Road. His window was about one third down and the cat, in keeping with the contrary nature of its species, leapt through the gap and sprinted back towards the house. With flames burning on his property Ross cursed and then gave chase. Minutes seemed like hours as he pursued the cat with fire burning all around him. He gave up but as he jumped back in the panel van he noticed that the grass was on fire around Bec’s car which she left behind when she was given a ride to Whittlesea that morning. Ross decided to leave the van and save the other vehicle. He headed-off down National Park Road not knowing where Wally or Helen were. In fact at this stage he hardly knew where Ross Buchanan was. The smoke was so thick that he could barely see the road in front so he hunched himself over the steering wheel and focused on the white line as it snaked its way under his front bumper. --------------------------------------- The heart of the fire- Danny said “we’re fucked mate, it’s really bad, the house is on fire”. Her brother repeated “we’re fucked, there are no CFA trucks.” Bec was beginning to panic, “can’t you get out?” Her brother’s last words to her were “Na, we can’t get out, we’re surrounded.” She replied “do the best you can mate!” From the hallway Macca, Mick and Jenny led a dash for the door. They didn’t know what awaited them outside but to stay inside meant certain death. In the confusion and in the blinding smoke they believed all the others were just behind them. But Aiden was the only one to follow. Jenny could feel him clinging to her. Outside the air was still searing hot and the flames threatened to consume them. But at least they could breathe. Macca looked around and was the first to notice Neeve and Danny and the girls hadn’t made it. He couldn’t leave his little sister and the others to die. In the chaos Ross and Bec’s beautiful 15 year old boy went back to help. He never made it out again. Macca, Neeve, Mel, Pen and Danny lost their lives in the safest house in the street. Two weatherboard homes in Reserve Road survived. Bec had borrowed Calum’s phone that morning and she couldn’t work out how to access the messages. She was so frustrated she felt like smashing it. She ran across the road to the Whittlesea fire brigade and begged them to send some trucks to Reserve Road in Kinglake. But the “fieries” said there was no way they could get through. Bec’s phone rang, it was her mother and just for a fleeting second she was relieved. But then Jenny cried these words down the phone “The children are gone”. Bec replied “What do you mean gone? Gone where?”