I was thinking in case of road closures. He had been up and down all night taking calls from his Forestry workmates who were preparing for a disaster day around Nelligen and Batemans Bay. Andrew had been working on fires up the north coast, then south. For four months he has rarely been home and, when he was, it was to try to sleep, wash clothes and repack his fire kit. Sienna Condie watching the red sky as the fire approached her Conjola home. Credit:Katrina Condie He was working 14 hour days, up to seven days in a row. He missed all the kids' end of year activities - presentation day, concerts, dances, including our youngest daughter Grace being announced school captain. Every night he has told me how his team was able to save property, homes and even lives in remote areas of bushland. He was exhausted, physically and mentally.

I was in town on New Year's Eve when my neighbour called. She was screaming: "We can see flames from the end of our street, where are you, what do we do?" I told them to just get out. I rang Andrew who was heading to his dad's farm which was alight. He told me his work depot had burnt down in Batemans Bay and he lost his personal stuff. Firefighters Andrew Condie and Trent Froud on secondment at the National Interagency Fire Centre in Idaho, where they fought fires in 2018. As he drove past Conjola towards the farm, five minutes up the road, he saw smoke near our village. He called me and said he was worried for our house. I was in shock, but still thought it would be OK. My neighbours rang again. They had passed Andrew on the road and he told them to keep going as fire was approaching fast. My good friend with her son in the car drove through flames, crying on the phone to her husband that they were going to die. She made it to the beach.

From Mollymook we watched the black plumes rising as Conjola burned. I had no idea what was going on or where Andrew was. Reality hit. We may actually lose our home. We could lose him. Andrew has fought fires all around the country and overseas. He was in the thick of it at Tathra in 2018 and Pappinbarra on the north coast near Port Macqaurie in November. He managed up to 3000 troops on a massive fire in the US last year. He had never seen anything like this. The remains of the Condie family home. Credit:Katrina Condie Before the flames even got to our street, the home opposite exploded and the roof blew 10 metres in the air. Andrew had been putting out spot fires around our homes and on our roof. He ran into the house and drank water, grabbed his bagpipes and threw them in his car. He thought it was going to be OK, but turned to see a wall of flames coming over the hill from the other side. Again, before the flames hit, the windows in our house blew out from radiant heat. His shed and its contents melted; our caravan went up in 20 seconds. With his slip-on firefighting unit, he put out a fire on a nearby verandah and raced to save the last home that he could see standing.

About an hour later I got the call we had been dreading. Our home was gone, along with as many as 80 others just in our little hamlet. The fire had come from both the west and north west. Two fires that met and turned into a firestorm right near our home. Loading He headed down the road towards the lake to seek shelter. His mum and sister, along with three dogs and a cat, were huddled under a blanket at the beach, with hundreds of locals and visitors. He used the last of his water to put out some spot fires near his parents' house. He left and headed to town to find us. His grandfather's little timber house, where he had lived after returning from World War II, was gone. The girls and I were at a friend's house in Mollymook. At about 7pm, Andrew appeared black-faced, pale, a walking zombie. After saving other people’s homes for months, he was shattered to have not been able to save ours. We all hugged and cried more. He ate for the first time that day. Andrew had no clothes, only the fire suit and fire boots he was wearing. Our good friend opened his shop the next morning and gave him jeans, shirts and undies.

Early on New Year's Day, we went "home". In the fire vehicle we were able to get through. I felt sick driving out. I wanted to go back. I fought off the feeling of panic. As we drove from Milton through blackened paddocks, it was like a war zone. The road was deserted and homes were razed all around. I lost count. I cried. Loading Replay Replay video Play video Play video As we got closer to our street I sat, frozen in disbelief. We pulled up in front of our house. It was a pile of ash and twisted metal. I have no words. We got out, hugged, cried some more and walked around to try to find anything. A "cooked" tomato in the neighbour's veggie garden was the only splash of colour. We cried some more and then left. Since that day we have been overwhelmed with love and support. A lady I barely know has sponsored school supplies, uniforms, fees, excursions for the whole year! Another friend gave us a $500 voucher for Sportspower to buy joggers and sports gear for the kids. People have also given cash and Sienna's friend's dad gave her a guitar.