The smell hit first – sharp, chemical, choking. Then the roar. Flames leapt waist-high across the concrete, licking at boots, melting soles. Smoke clawed at their throats. In that locked garage in Counties Manukau East, Constable Friederike Faber and Sergeant Richard Bracey had seconds to act – and no way out.

What began as a routine family harm call in Clover Park spiralled into chaos. They had entered a locked house to arrest a man who had barricaded himself inside. The offender, cornered in the garage, upended a portable generator and flooded the floor with petrol.

Richard lunged, tackling the man but not quick enough to stop the flick of a lighter. The world ignited. Power cut. Roller door dead. Every exit barred by flames.

A fellow officer smashed through a rear door, cutting his arm but creating their only escape route. Richard hurled the burning generator outside as Friederike grabbed blankets, beating at flames that raced toward the house.

“We were shouting to each other above the roar of flames and alarms,” Friederike recalls. Together, choking on smoke and heat, they fought until the fire was out – saving not just themselves but the house and everyone in it.

Later, they learnt the offender had poured petrol around every exit, planning to burn the house down. “You can never predict any job,” Richard says quietly. “You can never be complacent.”

Their courage, quick thinking and refusal to abandon each other earned them Police Association Bravery Awards, which were presented at the 90th annual conference in October.

Fritzi – instinct and resilience

Friederike “Fritzi” Faber’s path to policing began far from the chaos of Clover Park. “I moved here in 2016 permanently. I first came to New Zealand when I was 19 as an au pair… and I just really, really liked the country. I love it here.”

After returning to Germany to study, she realised “living in Germany isn’t for me any longer. It’s not the lifestyle that I want”. The day after she got her permanent residency, she applied for Police.

“I didn’t always want to join Police. In Germany, not at all. German Police is quite different to New Zealand Police.” Everything changed after a car crash here. “It was that interaction with the officer. I’d never seen that side of policing… and that’s when I thought, ‘Oh, actually, I could do this.’”

She laughs when asked how friends would describe her. “I hope they’d say nice things! Probably funny and hard-working… sporty, obsessed with my dog.” That dog – a german shepherd mix in his “naughty teenager phase” – is part of the life she’s built here, far from the rigid policing culture she grew up with.

What drew her in was variety and connection. “Every day is different. You meet people from all sorts of backgrounds.” Retail and customer service taught her skills she now uses on the front line. “It’s basically what we do.”

The day of the fire taught her something new. “I surprised myself… I acted instinctively. Normally I’m cautious, I plan, but there was no time.”

What lingers now? “Just being happy that I’m OK and everyone else is OK. I appreciate life more – it can change so quickly.”

She was stood down for a day to recover, but keen to return. “When you fall off the bike, you need to get back on quickly.” Support came from talking – with her partner, fellow constable Jamie Ferguson, friends and those who were there. “And the gym. Working through emotions with exercise.”

Teamwork, she says, is everything.

“It gives you such comfort knowing your team has your back. That’s what police are all about.”

Ask her about Richard that day and her respect is clear. “How calm he remained, how good his communication was… his determination. Every part of you says get away, but he said, ‘We’re not going to let this house burn down’.” Bravery, to her, isn’t about awards. “It’s doing the right thing… carrying on even when you really don’t want to be there.”

Outside work, Friederike craves nature. “That’s why I moved to New Zealand. Hiking, swimming, getting away from the city.” Her dream? Search and rescue. Selections started on November 26 for three days, covering self-sufficiency, bushcraft, navigation and teamwork. “It’ll be intense.”

If not SAR, maybe detective work. “Busting the big drug dealers… stopping meth getting into communities. That would give me such satisfaction.”

For now, she’s grateful. “This job has made me grow as a person. I’ve met so many great people, formed close connections. I wouldn’t change it for anything.”

Richard – Calm in the chaos

Richard Bracey is so humble he can’t see what others see in him – the steady, trusted and calm leader, the patient, passionate mentor. “I’m a Kiwi. I’m humble,” he says simply. “I just believe in my values alongside the values of Police.”

He joined Police at 41, after years in the printing industry and an overseas adventure. “Policing was always there, locked in a folder in my head. One day I opened the paper, saw a full-page recruitment ad… my wife said, ‘You’ve got to go for this, it was meant to be’.”

More than 15 years later, he’s still on the front line. “Detective work never interested me. While my legs still work, I want to be out there.” Community policing in Ōtara is his home now: “It’s a beautiful community, very busy.”

Richard has seen policing at its worst and wants better for the next generation of police officers. “I’ve got a great team. I’m proud of the young ones – seeing them go on to better things.”

When asked if he sees a common denominator in the success of the many “young ones” he’s mentored, he is truly baffled. “Nah, it’s not me. It’s just part of the job. If I can get them home safe, that’s my job done.”

The fire in Clover Park is the only callout where he thought he might not make it home. “I thought that I was going to die – that’s the honest truth. I’ve never felt like that before.”

He remembers looking at Friederike in the hallway, flames all around. “I thought, I’m in trouble this time.” Even now, he shakes his head.

“You can’t predict anything. It was just a police safety order. But the offender had planned it.”

Has it changed him? “Of course. You’ve got to be ever vigilant. But I’ve learnt a lot – and that’s why I’m still out there with these young ones.”

Ask what he respected most about Friederike and his answer is instant. “Her bravery. I never doubted she’d be there right with me. She’s a top police officer.”

Bravery, for Richard, isn’t a title. “I don’t like it. I see it every day – in anyone who wears blue. Standing in the pouring rain at a crash, directing traffic alone… that’s what I see.”

Outside work, he switches off with family – two granddaughters, one in Glasgow, one in Auckland. “They keep me grounded.” And his Harley Davidson. “I’ve done the South Island twice. We go riding for days.”

He’ll keep going for “probably another five years.” Why? “For the training I give these young ones. Knowing they’ll go forward and be the best.”

If the public really knew what police do, he says, “maybe they’d like us better”. But he doesn’t dwell on that. “I’ll do it again and again.”