by Leigh Bale
Even at this hour, people milled around the park, folding up bedrolls, dressed in a variety of exercise shorts and fire-fighting gear. At least seventy tents sat in tidy rows across the grass where trainees had slept the night before. Many recruits had opted to stay in the local motel or were driving in from the surrounding towns.
“You’ve done a great job organizing this training event. I can see this took a lot of effort.” She couldn’t help admiring Matt’s hard work. She’d attended trainings where everyone ran around in confusion. But not today. She’d forgotten how good Matt was at his job.
Matt chuckled, the dimple in his cheek deepening. “I figure if I feed everyone well, they’ll overlook possible moments of chaos. I’ve got a good logistics chief.”
She understood his reasoning. Crew members frequently expended up to six thousand calories per day fighting wildfire. Crews had to be fed well or they’d start collapsing with heat exhaustion and overwork.
Catering trailers with exterior counters and wide roll-up windows stood in the east parking lot. Picnic tables sat close by where hordes of recruits chatted and ate a hearty breakfast of biscuits and gravy, hot cereals, pancakes, eggs, juice, bacon and sausage.
Rows of portable toilets and trailers with showers lined the inner perimeter of the west parking lot. Eight yellow school buses able to carry sixty-five people each waited along the edge of the road. The buses would transport the recruits up the mountain to the staging area where crews of twenty men and women would start a controlled burn. By the end of the week, all trainees would participate in hands-on wildfire fighting or be recertified in map and pumper-truck work.
Before anything else, new recruits and people like Matt would either pass their work capacity test or not. Those who didn’t succeed would be counseled to return home, train a few more weeks, and try again later. Firefighters who couldn’t keep up during an emergency evacuation endangered the lives of every person on their crew. They must be physically fit.
“You ready for your physical?” From beneath lowered lashes, Andie admired Matt’s lean, strong body dressed in workout clothes. He wore a radio chest harness across his white T-shirt for communication purposes, light blue sweat-pants and sneakers.
“I am. I’ve been warming up for an hour. I can’t wait to finish this. I trained in my wildland fire boots, knowing they were heavier. I thought it’d give me an edge during the real test.”
From his animated expression, she realized passing the work capacity test wasn’t just about being fit enough to fight wildfire. It also represented a great victory of rehabilitating his body after a tragic event that had nearly cost his life.
“Matt, I—I’m proud of you.” The concession came hard for her, but she couldn’t help admiring the indomitable man she’d married. In spite of the adversity he’d faced, he’d come back fighting harder than ever. He was trying so hard to make things right. Maybe she shouldn’t make it so difficult for him.
“I appreciate that. Your approval means everything to me.”
She returned his smile. “You’ve earned it.”
“Well, I didn’t come in with a lot of time to spare three days ago when I hiked the course. I’m a bit nervous about finishing in time.”
His confession softened her. She doubted he’d confide such a thing to anyone else. The fact that he’d told her made her feel closer to him. Like a special confidant he trusted with his deepest secrets. Memories of the closeness they’d once shared filled her mind. They used to tell each other everything. When he’d returned to her life a few months ago, she hadn’t wanted to know anything about him. Now she couldn’t help cheering for him. How could that be?
They walked together to the command station, a long trailer that had been brought in and set up with maps, phones, desks and computers. Matt showed not a hint of a limp, moving with his old sleek grace. Seeing him in this environment made Andie feel all warm inside. She loved this man in a uniform. She always had. He appeared so strong and in control. Like the man she’d married years earlier, only different. This man seemed to be all of the good she’d hoped for and none of the bad. He’d changed and evolved into a considerate, caring, confident man who knew what he wanted and went after it with gusto.
A surge of pride enveloped Andie’s chest. Approximately four hundred and fifty recruits from the Nevada Department of Forestry, the Forest Service and the Bureau of Land Management were participating in the week-long schedule.
Since she’d already passed the arduous level of the physical fitness, Andie would teach fire safety, fire-line construction, and serve as a timer on the fitness course.
She glanced at Matt, noticing he’d gotten his hair cut high and tight again, like a U.S. Marine going into battle. “You know, as the Operations Section Chief, you’re only required to pass the medium-level physical.”
“I know.”
“Then why push yourself so hard?”
“First, because I won’t ask something of my crews that I can’t do myself. Second, because I hate walking with a cane. I knew if I could pass the arduous level, I’d rehabilitate my legs. It’s hurt like a mother bear, but I made it. No more cane.”
His voice carried a lilting quality that showed his happiness and relief. Easy to understand. And yet, any ordinary man would have settled for less.
With the help of ten trainers directing foot traffic, Matt used a megaphone to call the recruits to the buses. Some would begin classroom training while others would pass their physicals. Those recertifying on skills such as chainsaws and tree felling would accompany specific trainers.
The ride up the mountain took over an hour. As he directed the recruits and delegated responsibilities, Matt seemed tense, constantly looking at his watch. Andie figured he’d be nervous until he passed his test.
By the time they arrived at the fitness course, Andie took the lead. Using Matt’s megaphone, she called out instructions to the first group of men and women eager to pass their physical training.
“You have fifteen minutes to warm up before we begin. Then you will line up in rows of six across. The number pinned to your shirt will tell us who you are, so don’t lose it.”
She paused while everyone stretched and strapped on their weight vests before lining up in neat rows. A scale was used to weigh each person’s vest, to ensure they started and ended with the appropriate amount of weight for their specific training level. Then Andie began the test.
“Welcome. You are about to take a job-related work capacity test to determine your fitness for duty.”
She continued reading from a script, to ensure she didn’t miss any instructions. Three out of the five days of training would include national standardized training. Through the crowd of recruits, she caught sight of Matt standing with several highly trained professionals who also needed to renew their physical certification. Matt listened carefully, his jaw locked, his face tight with concentration.
She continued. “Jogging or running will result in disqualification. You are free to stop at any time for any reason, but you must finish the course within forty-five minutes. A walking staff may be used. Are there any questions?”
A young recruit that looked fresh out of high school raised his hand.
“Yes?” Andie gazed at him.
“Can we carry water with us?”
“Absolutely, but it is not included in the forty-five pounds of your weight vest.”
Another hand shot up, and Andie nodded at the young woman.
“Are we allowed to remove our weight vest during the course?”
“No. You should already know that. Your vest will be weighed at the end of the course. If it doesn’t weigh exactly forty-five pounds, you will be disqualified. We have spotters along the course to ensure your safety, but also to ensure the integrity of the test. So leave your vest on and do your best. This isn’t a race against anyone but yourself. Are there any more questions?”
A hush fell over the group.
“Okay, Rick Olton will get you s
tarted.” She nodded at Rick, then left to climb aboard a four-wheeler and drive up the mountain where she took her position at the halfway mark.
Holding a stopwatch in one hand and a clipboard in the other, she stood at the side of the course and waited. As the test administrator, she had the right to consider terminating candidates who were substantially behind the required pace. Though she hoped everyone passed their physical, she knew she’d have to be tough on those who couldn’t. Being lenient would only endanger lives once the recruits were deployed to an actual wildfire incident.
For some reason, she felt jittery inside. It meant a lot to her that Matt succeed with his goals and pass this test. That puzzled her. His career had stolen their marriage. So why did she care if he passed his physical?
The answer came clear as a fire bell. She cared because it was important to him. Because she loved him, no matter how hard she tried not to. And when you loved someone, you cared about them. Their happiness and sorrows became your own.
Within twenty minutes, trainees started passing by, most of them quite young and in superb physical condition. Andie called out their time, scanning them for signs of duress or cheating. Spotters were assigned responsibility for specific recruits and identified them by the number pinned to the trainees’ shirts. As the recruits passed by, the spotters glanced at the numbers pinned to each person’s shirt, then jotted notes on their clipboards under that specific person’s name.
Andie couldn’t believe the endurance of some of the recruits. They were strong. Even though she could easily pass this course, she was now thirty-two years old and envied the stamina of the younger trainees.
“Keep one foot on the ground at all times. No running,” she called to a trainee who was almost jogging. The kid immediately slowed his pace to a fast hike.
Matt approached, walking fast, his muscular arms pumping, his face tense. Seeing him made Andie’s heart beat faster, and she couldn’t help smiling.
“Looking good, hotshot.” The moment she said the words, she regretted them. What if he mistook her meaning?
His glittering eyes met her gaze and he nodded once, but didn’t break stride. She resisted the urge to watch him pass, forcing herself to focus on the other trainees coming up the trail. Silently, she cheered Matt on.
Come on, honey. You can do this.
She instantly regretted her line of thinking. She’d called him honey, not out loud, but the sentiment was there just the same. He spent so much time over at her house that she’d gotten comfortable around him.
Too comfortable.
She shook her head, forcing herself to focus on the chore at hand. Within forty-five minutes, eleven recruits were still on the course. Andie stopped them long enough to give them a pep talk about training harder and returning once they could pass the course.
“We’ll be offering another physical in three weeks. Call my office for details.” She handed each one her card. “That’ll give you enough time to build up more endurance and still join a summer fire crew. Don’t give up. Don’t quit. You’re almost there.”
One overweight man caused Andie a bit of concern. The recruit’s face flushed red, his breath wheezing from his mouth like a tea kettle at full boil. The number one cause of death on wildfires was heart attack, and Andie feared she might have to perform CPR on the man.
“Let’s walk it back to the starting line nice and slow,” she said.
She longed to race ahead to find out how Matt had done on the course. Instead, she remained with the out-of-shape recruit until certain he was safely on a bus making its way down the mountain.
Andie found Matt at the buses, signing task books for each job the recruits had completed and directing them so they knew where they needed to be for their next class. He’d changed into his forest service uniform, and his face glowed with contentment. Without asking, she knew he’d passed his physical.
“Hey! Come here,” Matt called out to a new recruit. The young man stopped and walked over to Matt, who reached forward and took the hand tool the kid had been carrying on his shoulder.
“Packing this Pulaski like that is a recipe for getting hurt.” The Pulaski was a hand tool that combined an ax and an adze into one head and aided firefighters in digging soil or chopping wood.
The young man’s eyes filled with uncertainty.
“What if you trip over this rough terrain?” Matt asked the kid. “You could cut your own throat carrying that ax up by your head. Believe me, I’ve seen it happen before. Instead, always carry sharp tools at your downhill side, grip the handle firmly near the head and point the ax end away from your body toward the ground like this.” Matt modeled the proper way to carry the tool.
The recruit watched carefully, then nodded. “Okay, I got it. Sorry.”
Matt handed the tool back and showed a warm smile, softening his rebuff. “Nothing to be sorry about. You’re here to learn. Over the next few days, we’re gonna teach you a whole lot more. You’ll be a trained wildfire fighter by the time we’re finished with you.”
The trainee smiled, seeming to like that idea. “Thanks, sir.”
Matt clapped the young man once on the back. “You’re welcome.”
The recruit carried the hand tool as directed, a new air of confidence in his step as he climbed on the bus. Andie never doubted the importance of these interactive classroom exercises and incident settings. It was the best way to teach recruits.
“So? How’d you do on your physical?” Andie asked casually as she passed by Matt on her way to her next training assignment.
A euphoric grin creased his handsome mouth. “I passed with six minutes to spare. No more cane, ever.”
“I never had any doubt,” she called over her shoulder.
But she did have doubts. About his mental well-being and about his motives for coming back into her life.
As the week of training continued, the recruits were broken out into twenty-member crews. They started out by learning the organization and hierarchy of firefighting. Andie found herself amazed by Matt’s skill both as a firefighter and as a teacher. He knew so much and had so much to offer that she could no longer begrudge him his career. He’d earned every bit of his success. Now they needed to work on their family life.
Each crew was taken up on the mountain where they learned to work with hoses and hand pumps, and how to clear fuels and limbs off trees as they built fire line. Trainees created fires with drip torches, learning to start controlled burns. Small bombs were lit and tossed into the fire to flare up and create more depth in the fire.
Matt directed the trainees through the motions of what to do when they arrived first on the scene of a wildfire. Working together with Rick Olton and Hank Corbridge, Matt showed the recruits how to take direct action to slow down the fire and then begin to mop up afterward. In essence, the students took the knowledge they had learned in the classroom and put it into action out in the field. And in the process, they cleared a lot of dead wood and other debris off the mountain that could easily catch fire during a lightning storm.
Andie’s fears for Matt’s mental health were confirmed when they taught a safety workshop together. Andie hadn’t asked to teach this class with Matt, but she’d found her name on the roster when the final assignments were handed out.
Standing outside in a clearing surrounded by dried grass, Matt began his lecture. “Every time a tragedy occurs, it’s because one of the ten standard firefighting orders or one of the eighteen watchout situations was disobeyed.” Matt hesitated at the front of the class, his voice trembling slightly. “Above all else…” He coughed and began again. “Above all else, communication is of critical importance. When an order is given, you should…you should repeat it back to ensure you understand completely. Misunderstanding an order can cost lives.”
He stepped back and reached for his fire shelter. “Never, ever remove your fire shelter from your fire pack. If you ever need to deploy your shelter, pick the largest available clearing you can find and avoid
anything that might burn. Wear your gloves and hard hat, and a face and neck shroud if you have one handy.”
He clasped the fire shelter in his hands before pulling the red ring to tear off the plastic bag. Holding the grasp handles, he shook the shelter hard to fold it out. And then he froze, standing like a statue. At first, Andie thought he was gathering his thoughts. Then she tilted her head and saw his expression. He stared down at the shelter, terror filling his eyes. He shivered, as if haunting memories washed over him. It only lasted a few moments before he regained control, but not before she saw his crippling fear.
Oh, no! He wasn’t over the wildfire. In spite of claiming differently and rehabilitating his legs, he hadn’t fully recovered.
“Matt.” She touched his arm and he looked at her, his expression blank. Gone was the strong, confident firefighter, replaced by a mere mortal man.
No! Not here. Not now. If anyone suspected he still had this problem, it could prove catastrophic to his career. She had to help him. Had to protect him.
She wrenched the shelter free of his hands and continued the demonstration, acting like nothing had happened. “You will climb into your shelter and lie facedown. Place your legs toward the oncoming fire and bury your mouth near the dirt. The air can be hot enough to burn your lungs, but the air near the ground is coolest. Use your gloved hand to keep from inhaling dirt, but protect your lungs as much as possible.”
“And…and you must withstand the pain at all costs.” Matt’s eyes appeared lucid, but haunted. “The pain may be so great from the heat that you think you’re dying. Your natural instinct will be to get out and run. But I guarantee if you climb out of your shelter, you…you will die. Stay where you are. It’s your only chance for survival. I know…I know this firsthand.”
Andie’s heart wrenched. Without intending to, he’d just revealed a lot about the wildfire. She could only imagine what he’d gone through. How hard it must have been. And still he’d survived.
Why? Why had Matt survived when his man had died? Was it a simple matter of greater physical strength and endurance? Or was it something more divine? Surely the Lord had been there with Matt and the other man. Perhaps God had wanted Matt to live, so he could learn a lesson about faith.