Why I won't forget my first fire call

For context, I've been a junior firefighter for a little over a year now, and I've been working at a very old and argueabley haunted firehouse. Junior firefighters can go on calls, however we obviously are not interior firefighters, we provide exterior support and scavenge for anything that survived the fire when it's been put out.

My first call happened three months into my career, I was excited and nervous, I rode with the chaplain, another junior, and three interior firefighters, (not including those in the front seats) one of whom I didn't recognize, I thought this was because there were still people I hadn't met, and that was true, I still only knew a hand full of people at the station. So I sat in the extra seat you have to pull down, also, on the truck and engine, we put on sound cancelling headsets to drown out the loud siren and help us communicate, they're a bit weird and you have to hold the microphone less then a half inch up to your mouth to talk and be heard, on the way there the other junior said something and I couldn't hear it so I just assumed he said something about this being my first call or something.

We arrived on scene, and the first thing I noticed after the fire, was the crowd, so me and the other junior provided crowd control while the engine showed up with exterior firefighters. I honestly don't remember much from this, the prior excitement had boiled into fear and anxiety. The three interior firefighters went in and, truth be told, the fire wasn't all that bad in hindsight, however I would see much worse fires. Anyway, I'm not sure how much time passed but before I knew it, the fire was still burning the house and two if the interior firefighters were back outside, as their air cylinder had run out.

Then I remembered the third guy, and I asked the other junior how long the guy sitting across from me on the truck had been at the station, as he seemed to have great composure and could maintain calm breathing in a fire. I had only seen him in turnout gear, so I didn't know his body type. The other junior looked at me and said, "we only had two interior firefighters on the call with us, and I told you on our way there that you didn't need to sit in the spare seat."

Confused, I approached the chaplain and asked him if we had three interiors on the truck with us, he said no. When the fire was put out, we went inside and did our thing, I found no trace of another firefighter. When we got back to the station, I asked the chief about the man, I gave a good description I think, and the chief gave a confused but interested stare. He brought me to the off duty room upstairs and showed me a picture on the wall and pointed to a firefighter in his turnout gear along with a much younger chief and asked me if that was the man I saw. It was and I told him this.

He told me his name, and that he passed away from lung cancer in 2002. A lot of firefighters die this way sadly and I doubt he was the only one to die this way at our station. I believe he was watching over me on my first call, as I'm sure he did with the other junior.