cold, he pitched forward into the arms
of a fellow firefighter.
For Shirley, the ordeal continued. As
the ambulance headed for hospital, the
paramedic bathed her burns in saline
solution and gave her nitrous oxide to
relieve her pain. If anyone deserves to
live, he thought, it is this girl who has
fought so hard.
Back at the mall, firefighters were
able to pour foam into the tanker.
Before, it would have endangered
Royd and the girl; now they quenched
the burning rig in just three minutes.
When Hyland revisited the scene the
next morning, he saw something that
will haunt him for the rest of his life.
For 70 metres the top layer of tar on the
road had burnt away, in places down
to bare gravel—except for a patch the
size of a kitchen table that was lightly
scorched by fire. This was where
Shirley had been lying.
“It was as if the devil was determined
to take that girl,” Haycock said later,
“and when she was snatched away, he
just gave up.”Shirley’s recovery was slow, and in-
cluded a series of painful skin grafts to
her legs. Orthopaedic surgeons found
the right calf muscle too badly da-
maged to repair and decided to am-
putate her leg below the knee.
Royd Kennedy now lives in Australia
and retired at the end of June in 2019
after 44 years in firefighting and emer-
gency service work. Shirley has three
young children.into her lungs. She stirred a little and
opened her eyes. “You tell your mum
yourself,” he scolded. “I promised I
wouldn’t leave you. Now don’t you
leave me!”
“I’ll hang on,” she murmured.
T
he rescue team had run into
trouble. Part of the trailer was on
soft ground, which was sodden
from all the water, and the airbag
under the wheel that was trapping
Shirley was sinking into the mud
instead of lifting. They blocked one
more time and inflated the bag to its
maximum, but the wheels had risen
only 10 centimetres. “We must have
her out now,” Warby told Glass.
Praying it would give them that extra
few centimetres of lift without tipping
the trailer, Glass shoved a small hy-
draulic ram under the chassis. He
held his breath. The trailer lifted some
more. Now he had a 15-centimetre gap
between ground and wheels; it would
have to be enough.
“Go for it!” he yelled. Royd gen-
tly, but quickly, untangled Shirley’s
legs from under the wheel; they were
crushed so badly they were like jelly
in his hands. Warby helped him jug-
gle her crumpled body from its tiny
prison. Then they carried her to the
stretcher. Just before Shirley was
lifted into the waiting ambulance, she
smiled at him and he bent down to
kiss her on the cheek.
“You’ve done it, Shirley,” he said.
Then, overcome by fumes, shock and
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