Like many around the United States and certainly in California, I’ve been glued to the TV, radio and social media watching the wildfire tragedy unfold in and around Los Angeles.
And, as a retired U.S. Forest Service wildland firefighter and manager, I probably look at the situation a little differently from the average citizen. My heart breaks for those who have had to flee in fear with little more than what they’re wearing, those who already know they’ve lost their homes and everything in them, maybe pets, and, as the situation unfolds, those who have lost loved ones. But I also think a lot about the firefighters battling these wildfires. A lot.
Between Cal Fire, county and municipal fire departments and land management agencies such as the U.S. Forest Service, the Bureau of Land Management and the National Park Service, Southern California has many of the best firefighters in the world. And yet, these particular fires, and other recent wildfires, have been impossible to stop under these kinds of conditions.
Watching a live news report, I saw an anchor ask a reporter in the field whether they saw any firefighters actually spraying water on the homes burning behind them. The reporter said, no, they hadn’t.
I guarantee you all the firefighters who are there now are giving everything they have to serve those affected.
Maybe the anchor wasn’t asking in order to cast aspersions at firefighters for not “being there spraying water.” But I still get defensive when I think people are implying firefighters aren’t doing enough. Because I heard that my entire 32-year career. I also heard it last summer, at a public meeting for a wildfire in the Northern California national forest where I used to be deputy fire chief. That is simply unconscionable to me.
Even though wildfires like this, driven by 70 to 100 mph winds, couldn’t be “put out” if every firefighter in the West were in Los Angeles, I guarantee you all the firefighters who are there now are giving everything they have to serve those affected.
As burning homes and other buildings become “fuel,” they are trying to stop fires’ spreading from house to house where it looks like they have a chance. They are making a stand in driveways and on patios. They are rescuing citizens, pets, livestock. If an entire block or neighborhood is engulfed in fire, they have most likely moved on to where they might be able to make a difference.
We’ve all heard that water is a precious commodity, as the demand causes hydrants to lose pressure and temporarily go dry. To use water on an area that is already unsavable might look good for the cameras, but it would be quite irresponsible. That’s why we don’t see firefighters spraying water randomly. They’re being very strategic about where they deploy engines and crews — even though, to the average person, it might not outwardly appear to make sense.
There’s no doubt in my mind that some of those firefighters have lost their own homes while they literally risk their lives to try to save others’.
Those firefighters most likely haven’t really slept in 48 hours; maybe they’re lucky enough to have taken a 15-minute catnap here and there on the pavement of someone’s yard. They’re not having meals, grabbing quick snacks instead. Wildland firefighters do not wear SCBAs (self-contained breathing apparatus) to protect their airways from the acrid smoke and hazardous fumes because the physical exertion over hours and days makes that impractical. I remember retching and even vomiting on many fires, enveloped in smoke so thick I couldn’t see the firefighter standing next to me. I know most, if not all, of the firefighters have pounding headaches and hacking coughs from being exposed to carbon monoxide and smoke for hours.
And there’s no doubt in my mind that some of those very firefighters (and law enforcement officers) have lost their own homes while they literally risk their lives to try to save others’. Firefighters don’t want to be referred to as heroes. They’re a pretty humble group, just doing their jobs. Truly. Most get uncomfortable simply being told, “Thank you.” But what will make their jobs a little easier are a few things that aren’t easy but are necessary: homeowners and communities following defensible space guidelines, cities and counties codifying new building standards to require proven fire-safe construction, citizens urging legislators to pay federal wildland firefighters a better permanent wage that gets them closer to earning what their Cal Fire counterparts do, everyone developing evacuation plans and go-bags and leaving when prompted (or before), rural residents donating to their local volunteer fire departments (or better yet, signing up as volunteers). While we won’t know exactly when, we do know the Santa Ana winds will blow again. Dry lightning storms will come this summer. People will be careless. The certainty is that we will have wildfires. Not just in California, not just in the Western United States, but even in the Midwest and the East. The other certainty is that wildland firefighters from federal and state agencies and county, municipal and volunteer fire departments will show up. You may not always see them, but I can assure you they are there.
Riva Duncan
Riva Duncan retired in 2020 as forest fire chief of Umpqua National Forest in southwest Oregon after 32 years with the U.S. Forest Service. She is the vice president of the Grassroots Wildland Firefighters advocacy organization. 
