My name is Pete Critsimilios and I am a New York City Fireman. I work in Engine 37/Ladder 40 in the Harlem section of New York. I am currently assigned to the Academy where I am an instructor for the newest firefighters. "I have no ambition in this world but one, and that is to be a fireman. This position may in the eyes of some be a lowly one. But we who do the work that a fireman does believe it to be a noble calling. The nobility of the occupation thrills us and stimulates us to deeds of daring, even at the supreme sacrifice." These words were written almost 100 years ago by Edward F. Croker, one of the first chiefs of our Department. The words were true then, and now, almost 100 years later, they are still true. On September 11, 2001, 2 planes struck the Twin Towers of the WTC in downtown N.Y.C. 2,528 civilians were killed. 7,500 civilians were injured. 147 people were killed on the airplanes. 23 New York Police officers were killed. 37 P.A.P.D. officers were killed. 343 New York City firemen were killed. The morning of 9/11 the United States, and N.Y.C., the NYPD, the PAPD and the FDNY got knocked to our collective knees. That afternoon, we stood back up again. My fire unit reported to the W.T.C. early the next morning. We were met with a scene of complete devastation. Fires continued to burn in, around, and under the debris pile. We put on our helmets and went to work. While at the site, the FDNY changed, adapted, and evolved. We worked till exhausted and then simply rolled up our coats, laid our heads down on them and went to sleep. We woke up again and went back to work. This proved to be too physically and mentally draining, so our tours of duty were changed to 24 hours on and 24 hours off. This schedule was modified even further to allow quicker rotation and quicker rest periods. This was not an environment to work tired and dulled. If you stood in one place too long the bottom of your boots melted. Large pieces of steel, some weighing 10-20 tons were at every conceivable angle and could crush you at any moment. The air was filled with acrid smoke. The footing was dangerous. There were voids 30-40 feet deep. In some places, the rubble pile was 7-8 stories high and extremely unstable. This was a place that could still hurt you, could still kill you. When our knees became burnt, bruised, and cut, we procured kneepads so that we could work more efficiently. If a tool did not work, we modified it; we adapted it to the task at hand. We were fluid, we thought on our feet. We were getting the job done. To build buildings like the Twin Towers takes a special kind of man. These are called men of iron, or Ironmen. When the Twin Towers collapsed, these Ironmen came by the hundreds. They came without being asked, they came without compensation. They came with torches to cut the massive, twisted steel so that we might reach some of the victims or our fallen brothers. Behind these Ironmen came the Operating Engineers. Convoys of men driving every piece of large equipment you could imagine: cranes, bulldozers, earth-moving equipment, container trucks. They came on their own, without being asked. Behind the Engineers came Firemen from all over the United States. From Chicago. From Boston. Detroit. Los Angeles. Texas. When one of us got tired and sat down, one of them stood up and took our place. When you took a break and went to get something to eat you sat next to an Ironman from New Jersey. He sat next to an Operating Engineer form Brooklyn. He sat next to a Fireman from Chicago. He sat next to a rescue worker from Colorado. The Twin Towers were gone, but the people, the spirit, was not. Far away, and long ago, in a brutal and unforgiving place, a man once said: “Uncommon valor was a common virtue.” We will never know the many acts of courage and heroism displayed on 9/11 at the Twin Towers. What we do know is a young Fireman named Daniel Shur was rushing into the WTC when he was struck by a person who jumped form the upper floors. Danny was killed instantly. The Fire Department Chaplain, Father Michael Judge went to Danny to administer Last Rites. Father Judge was in turn struck by falling debris and was also killed. Father Judge died as he lived, a man of God, ministering to his beloved Firemen. We do know that a Fireman from 74 Engine, Jeff Johnson led many of his brothers out of the collapse. We do know that Capt. Pat Brown, one of the most decorated men in the history of our Department, was on the upper floors when he gave his last radio transmission. “This is Capt. Pat Brown, Ladder 3, evacuation going smoothly.” He was cool, calm and collected. We do know that a young Fireman from my firehouse, Kevin Reilly was in the lobby of the WTC and went up into the Tower, without hesitation. We do know that my Battalion Chief, Rich Picciotta went into the Towers and took with him a bullhorn, a device to amplify the human voice. This action alone saved countless lives. While on the upper floors, Chief Picciotta gave the orders to evacuate. He used the bullhorn to announce it and many people responded. While on a lower floor, Chief Picciotta was met with an unbelievable sight. Dozens of people with various states of disabilities. Wheelchairs, crutches, heavyset people. Chief Picciotta quickly rounded up 50 Firemen who began evacuating the people. Chief Picciotta was on Ladder 6 carrying down a heavyset woman named Josephine. At about the sixth floor the Tower came down on them. They were trapped for 5 hours. 12th B.C. Mark Ferran along with Ladder 43 finally got to Chief Picciotta, Ladder 6 and Josephine. They were badly shaken, but alive. We do know that the FDNY, assisted by the NYPD and the PAPD rescued 20,000 people. 20,000. The largest rescue effort in history. The FDNY paid a heavy price for that rescue. We lost 343 men. No ranks were spared. From the Chief of Department to our newest members right out of the Academy. We lost men with 30-40 years in the FDNY. We had catastrophic losses to our Rescue units, our highly trained elite units. Our Squad Companies suffered terrible losses. From our Midtown Manhattan companies, horrific losses. Sometimes 10, sometimes 12, sometimes 15 men. We lost some of the greatest big city firemen the world has ever seen. From my firehouse, 3 men, gone. We were witnessing history, becoming part of history, and it was breaking our hearts. We have a code in the FDNY. It is a code we live by and sometimes, we die by. It is etched in our minds and carved in our souls. We leave no one behind. NO ONE. EVER. The FDNY has maintained a presence at the WTC 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, for 10 months. For 11 months, we have been going to FDNY funerals. It has been hard. It has been tough. But we will not rest. We will not stop, until we bring everyone home. I am very proud and honored to be here today. I am proud to be here as an American, to represent my country. I am proud to be here as a person of Greek background, to be in the land of my forefathers. I am proud to be here as a Greek Orthodox Christian to not only join with other Greek Orthodox Christians, but with people of all faiths, all races. People of common good will who are shocked and outraged at the terrible events of 9/11. But I am most proud to be here as a Fireman. To stand with my brother firefighters in the Thessaloniki and Athens Fire Departments. We stand together in brotherhood. For you see, I have no ambition in this world but one, and that is to be a Fireman. Thank you. God bless you. And God Bless America.

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