Article from Firehouse Magazine (probably copywrighted, but I live on the edge)
Soon after that, they heard a siren approaching; bouncing down the road was a 1954 Ford engine with three miserable-looking firefighters clinging to the tailboard. The engine then shot past the command post, into the main door of the warehouse and directly into the raging inferno inside. Looks of horror on the faces of the full-timers changed to astonishment as they watched the blur of activity inside. In ten seconds, the volunteers had charged hoses and were blasting water in all directions. In twenty seconds, the entire warehouse fire had been knocked down. In thirty seconds, all that was left to do was the overhaul. The engine backed out of the building to the cheers of the bystanders.
The owner of the warehouse was so pleased with what happened that he whipped out his checkbook and wrote out a check for a thousand dollars and presented it to the captain of the volunteers. "What will you do with the money?" he asked the french-fried captain.
"For starters," said the captain, who was busily counting and sorting his eyebrows, "We're gonna fix the #@%!&! brakes."