Not yet.
When we reach the road, the first thing I see is the car.
It is on its side at the edge of the lane, half in the ditch, one wheel still spinning slowly as if it hasn’t understood the crash is over. Broken glass scatters across the tarmac. A hedge has taken part of the impact. There is a smear of mud along the roof, a strange bright flash of a shopping bag caught against the passenger window, and someone’s walking stick lying several feet away near the verge.
An older woman is inside, shocked and pale, trapped awkwardly but speaking.
An older man is behind the wheel.
Not speaking.
I take in the scene in pieces.
Position. Stability. Hazards. Access. Casualties. Crew. Road.
Then I start giving instructions.
The world becomes work.
Mish and Kev go to stabilisation. Dan moves with equipment. I speak to the woman first because she is conscious and frightened and trying to turn her head towards her husband even though she can barely move.
“My name is Pippa,” I tell her, crouching where she can see me. “We’re from the fire service. What’s your name?”
“Margaret,” she says. Her voice trembles. “My husband. Brian. Is he—”
“We’re going to look after both of you.”
“Is he all right?”
“We’re with him too. I need you to keep looking at me for a moment.”
Her eyes fill, but she tries.
Brave woman.
Terrified, trapped, and still trying.
The ambulance arrives while we are working to get her out. Police shortly after, blocking the road, moving people back, managing the traffic that has already begun to gather with that horrible magnetic pull accidents have.
AJ is next to the appliance.
Standing back. Still. Watching.
I register it and then let him go from my mind because Margaret needs us and Brian needs us more.
The first extrication is quick.
Not easy. Nothing is easy with a vehicle on its side and a casualty who is elderly, shaken and possibly injured in ways that adrenaline is hiding. But it is straightforward enough. Access. Protection. Careful movement. Clear instructions. Ambulance ready.
Margaret grips my sleeve when we free her.
“My husband,” she says again. “Please. I can’t see him.”
“I know. We’re working on him.”
“Don’t let them take me away.”
“Let the ambulance crew check you.”
