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Trainer’s Corner: Victory loves preparation, Part 1

It has been 10 years since my conception of the Firefighter’s Ghost Survival Maze. It was first introduced at the 2014 Volunteer Firefighters’ Training Seminar hosted by Oliver Fire & Rescue in B.C. At that event, our SOOHOT (Saving Our Own Hands On Training) crew evaluated over 100 firefighters as to whether or not they would call a Mayday. It was a huge eye opener when only one out of 105 firefighters representing 50 departments was successful (Boston Bar Fire Chief Eric Phibbs). 

Over the past few years, we have challenged over 200 firefighters representing 100 volunteer fire departments and ONLY five firefighters have survived!   

Firefighter’s Ghost Survival Maze is more of an evaluation prop than an instructional one. It was built in honour of our fallen brothers and sisters with the hope we would learn from their sacrifice.  

This year Sunshine Valley Volunteer Fire Department hosted the Volunteer Firefighter’s Training Seminar. Chief Chris Terry called me and invited us to bring the “Mayday” training maze.
I had not spoken with him since we were both in Joe Rich Fire Rescue back in the 1990s, where I was his training officer.  

I thanked him for the invite but declined. When he asked why, I found myself getting emotional; a knot was forming in my stomach and my bottom lip began to quiver. I told him I hadn’t done this type of training for five years because it triggered sometimes overwhelming emotions in me. I felt safe with him, so I shared about my battle with PTSD, which was brought on by secondary trauma. 

I explained that for three decades I had used firefighter fatality reports as my training platform. I would spend multiple hours poring over firefighter fatality reports, trying to see what caused the LODD, and then I would “try and fix it” through hands-on training scenarios. 

The countless hours of reviewing radio traffic containing the last words of firefighters caught in a fire building had taken its toll. Chief Terry said he understood, but that perhaps in sharing what I knew could actually help me and possibly save someone’s life. 

I agreed, although reluctantly, to give it a go. However, the next week was horrible – I lost sleep, with some familiar ghosts visiting my mind in the night hours. I shared my feelings with my wife and two firefighter sons – they all encouraged me to be honest and clear with Chief Terry. I did exactly that. 

He again encouraged me and offered to help in any way he could. I asked for a limit of 10 firefighters per session, and rather than five or six one and a half-hour sessions, I requested three 3-hour sessions. He said he would watch out for me, and he kept his word. He and his wife Deb even brought their travel trailer over for me to stay in.  

I spent three weeks re-building the maze. This time I built it on an 18-foot flat deck trailer. I prepared myself physically, mentally and spiritually.

A few weeks prior to the event, my son Casey, also a SOOHOT instructor, decided to come with me. That was a much-appreciated help. 

This year we once again dedicated our Survival Maze to Clearwater, B.C., volunteer firefighter Chad Schapansky (23), who on March 29, 2004, lost his life in an abandoned structure fire. 

I have no trouble remembering this date for it is my birthday. And I will never forget this young man because of what I felt as I attended his LODD funeral. The small church was filled with family and friends so the large crowd of firefighters who attended from all over B.C. stood in formation outside the church. As we stood facing the church where Chad’s body lay, I became aware of the burnt out remains of the abandoned building Chad had been trapped in. His tragic death made no sense to me. 

I had so many questions. “We may risk our lives a lot to protect savable lives…We may risk our lives a little to protect savable property…We will not risk our lives at all for lives or property that are already lost”, kept playing through my mind (Risk Management NFPA 1500). 

I feel there is great value and honour in using LODD events to instruct. Whether we learn what to do or what not to do, it matters not so long as we learn something. May no firefighter’s death be in vain.

So here we were 20 years later starting our first three-hour session. As we went through the typical introductions one firefighter raised his hand, and said, “I just want to thank you guys for dedicating this training to Chad.” 

I looked at him and asked, “Did you know Chad?”  “No” was his reply, “but I’m in that department now and we all know of him.” We looked straight at each other, lost in thought for a moment, both of us struggling to keep our emotions in check. Twenty years later and Chad’s death still meant something. I shared a few things about Chad’s death and why we were doing this training.

And then we waited before moving on. I felt this was perhaps an open door to another type of Mayday survival tactic. So, we waited to see if anyone else had something to share.  

We need to provide those times if we want our firefighters to survive both physically and mentally. We still spend more time training ropes and knots than we do teaching and promoting firefighter survival.

Think about it from the fire ground angle. The “we are the rescuers” mindset can and does keep us from calling a “Mayday” that would save our physical body, and it keeps us from asking for critical incident stress management that could save us from mental destruction.  

Strange how we see deploying the rapid intervention team as rescuing our own and hide from the critical incident response team.  

The greatest resource in the Canadian fire service is the firefighter, and although every firefighter is provided with turnout gear, we give them little to protect themselves from the ravages of emotional trauma. 

We must equip them to deal with death, crisis, and suicide. They must be given opportunity to talk about the pressures involved in traumatic situations, to understand what others have experienced in similar situations, and know that they are not alone in their feelings.     

It has been over a month since that weekend, and it is just now as I’m typing this that I feel I have discovered the source of my mental anguish.  

Although it may have a little to do with secondary trauma, it feels more like it has a lot to do with my life statement: “What man is a man who does not make the world he lives in better.” 

For years this statement gave me a sense of purpose. But to be honest it had become a bit of a burden. It felt like that no matter what I did to make things better, nothing ever changed.  

They say that although day by day it seems nothing changes, when you look back, everything is different. However, I don’t see that when it pertains to firefighter survival, be it physically or mental. We are still dealing with the same safety issues…and to be honest, it frustrates me to no end.  

Even in the writing of this column for the last 20-plus years, I need to understand and somehow be okay with the fact that I have little if any control over your situations. I am sadly aware that my circle of concern is bigger than my circle of influence.  

Why is it so difficult to get a firefighter to call a Mayday? We treat speaking about Mayday to our firefighters as a young father does in talking to his children about sex. Our discomfort in talking about “it” tends to leave it up to the kids to find out from his or her street friends.  

The way firefighters react to any situation is based on their former training and experience. If they do not have “Mayday calling” in their experience, calling a Mayday will not come naturally when the need arises.  

Firefighters will not rise to the occasion; they will default to their training. 

Look at these results from our Mayday Evaluation sessions at Spring Training 2024.  

Core Skill #1: We stretched out several lengths of fire hose on the ground, looping it so both ends of the hose were together as far from the starting point (middle of loop) as possible. The hose ends were covered, one marked nozzle the other truck. 

Firefighters are called one at a time while others were kept busy with a second core skill. Radios had been set out. Their BA masks were blacked out. They were informed the conditions in this scenario are immediately dangerous to life and health (IDLH), cold smoke, and zero visibility (masks blacked out). Firefighters were brought to within five feet of the simulated charged hose line. As they were spun around (to disorient them) they were informed that they were part of a two-man attack team and that they had lost connection with the hose. They were now within five feet of the hose and their objective was to get out alive. We gave no further voice instructions.  

If the firefighter called out for their crew member we would not reply.  

Out of all the fighters tested, none called out for their crew member. All immediately started searching for the hose line. Only one radioed the IC to inform them about losing and finding the hose.  

Upon finding the hose every firefighter began to search for the coupling. Only fifty percent followed the hose to safety.  

When firefighters found the hose coupling, we simulated a “Low Air Alarm”.  No firefighters radioed the IC about their low-air alarm. No discernable Maydays were called.   

As to the Survival Maze: Although we did not black out any of the SCBA masks there were some disturbing similarities to past Mayday Evaluation sessions. Most of all that not one survived!

Only one of the firefighters in distress called a Mayday of sorts.

No one activated the emergency button on the radio.

No one activated his/her PASS device.

Only one firefighter when separated from his/her partner called out to them.

No firefighter radioed for help until after their low-air alarm went off.

No firefighter noted their air level during the drill.

Only a few sounded the steps. They did not sound the soft and fire weakened floor further into the building. Multiple teams went through the floor (just feet away from the exit door) with their partner following right behind them.  

Only two firefighters used the swim technique to navigate the maze.  Others just plowed through getting hooked, snagged and held up multiple times.

Two firefighters panicked and took their BA off at a simple doorway obstacle. They tried to complete the maze without re-donning their BA.

Although radios were provided, two teams went in without a radio. The remainder of the teams chose to take only one radio.  

That last observation really disappointed me. It seems this is the habit of some departments to have one radio per team. This is a huge problem.  

May I remind you who we had dedicated this Mayday Evaluation session to. If you take the time to read the Clearwater B.C. 2004 Firefighter Fatality Report, you will discover only the lead guy (Chad, who perished in the fire) had the radio. So, when Chad went through the floor his partner was unable to communicate his emergency to the IC. He had to crawl to safety and use his cell phone to call dispatch so they could inform the IC there was a man down. What a tragic event, but now 20 years later we still have this practice – are you kidding me!  

So perhaps it isn’t so much the 80 or so firefighter’s ghosts that cause anguish in my heart and mind, but more so the frustration of seeing the lack of change in our fire service. 

It is imperative that our fire departments develop rules for when a firefighter must call a Mayday. We must by example give our firefighters permission to call a Mayday, be it on the fire ground or in the mind.  

Over the years we have noted that 90 per cent of the firefighters tested gave no discernable Mayday. Those that did call a Mayday gave unclear directions. Only two firefighters knew how to use the LUNAR acronym. 

What is most disturbing, however, is that 90 per cent tried to get out on their own before calling Mayday. And that, brothers and sisters, is the same with a Mental Health Mayday. 

Although Maydays were called, it was often too late in the scenario.  

We all know that rapid intervention is not all that rapid. The sooner a Mayday is called the better the chance of rescue.   

Trainer’s Corner closing tag line for most of these years has been, “Train like lives depend on it, because they do.” Recently I’ve added these numbers 4-9-4.  In Part 2 of “Victory loves preparation”, I will explain what that means.

Ed Brouwer is the chief instructor for Canwest Fire in Osoyoos, B.C., a retired deputy chief training officer, fire warden, WUI instructor and ordained disaster-response chaplain. Contact aka-opa@hotmail.com.