Let Burn

Front matter

Wents, Rachel K. Let Burn.

E-book, East Lansing, MI: Michigan State University Press, 2013, https://doi.org/10.14321/9781611860719. Downloaded on behalf of University of Michigan, Ann Arbor

Wents, Rachel K. Let Burn.

Part One. Into the Field Getting Started Down and Out A Brave New World Loss

Part-Timer Training Day

Class #64

The Trauma Room Hospital Rotations A Rainy Sunday

The Test

Wents, Rachel K. Let Burn.

E-book, East Lansing, MI: Michigan State University Press, 2013, https://doi.org/10.14321/9781611860719.

Wents, Rachel K. Let Burn.

E-book, East Lansing, MI: Michigan State University Press, 2013, https://doi.org/10.14321/9781611860719.

Train Wreck

Life on an Ambulance Alone in the Woods Assaults

A Slow Saturday

Part Two. OFD Rookie First Night Delivery

Man Down Desperation Suddenly

The Catch

The Infant

The Burning Room Under the Camper Death by Suicide Special Effects

The Boy in the Road Regulars

The Usual Spots

Missing

49 53 57 61

The Patient

The Intruder Learning to Drive Driving

In Charge Mealtime Training

Practical Jokes

Home

Part Three. Command Learning A Hole in the Floor

A New Direction Training Division Learning to Lead

A Fork in the Road

Returning to Shift

Part Four. And It All Came Crashing Down The Call Charges A Gathering Storm

Wents, Rachel K. Let Burn.

E-book, East Lansing, MI: Michigan State University Press, 2013, https://doi.org/10.14321/9781611860719. Downloaded on behalf of University of Michigan, Ann Arbor

199 227

Aftermath

Reporting for Duty The Appeal

Turning to the Union The Meeting

The Only Option

Farewell

Wents, Rachel K. Let Burn.

E-book, East Lansing, MI: Michigan State University Press, 2013, https://doi.org/10.14321/9781611860719. Downloaded on behalf of University of Michigan, Ann Arbor

INTRODUCTION

EACH OF US IS THE SUM OF OUR EXPERIENCES. OUR PERSONALITIES are carved out by events in our lives, just as water carves out a canyon. Torrents tear away the walls of our psyche, leaving voids where solid ground once stood. Steady currents strip away our interior, shaping us in ways that can only be seen later, on reflection. Painful memories become smooth, like a stone in a river, their edges worn away over time.

For thirteen years I worked as a firefighter/paramedic, primarily for the Orlando Fire Department (OFD). I began my career working for a small department just outside of Orlando. I also worked for an ambulance service in Orlando and later, for a short time, with a county agency north of Nashville, Tennessee. I spent eleven years with OFD, becoming only the third woman in the history of the department to achieve the rank of lieutenant.

These settings provided an array of perspectives. Working on an ambulance sharpened my skills as a medic. The small, rural service in Tennessee exposed me to challenges of a system where backup is nonexistent. My career with OFD placed me among highly trained individuals in a large metropolitan area. There, I honed my skills, not only as an emergency medical services (EMS) provider, but as a future officer. Through education, training, and promotional exams, I prepared myself for a leadership position within the department. I learned to be adaptive and flexible under changing

Wents, Rachel K. Let Burn.

E-book, East Lansing, MI: Michigan State University Press, 2013, https://doi.org/10. 4321/9781 611860719. Downloaded on behalf of University of Michigan, Ann Arbor circumstances, valuable lessons that would help me when I suddenly found my career cut short.

As a firefighter and medic, I saw things I never could have imagined— traumatic injury, burns, cardiac arrest, and the violence people inflict on each other. And I took on challenges I never could have anticipated in my desire to succeed. But within a moment, all that I had achieved was gone. A single decision meant the end of my accomplishments, my future as an officer, and my career.

This book recounts the incredible experiences of becoming and working as a firefighter-paramedic and the events that led to the end of my career with the Orlando Fire Department. It was hard to leave the field of EMS. You grow accustomed to the daily dose of adrenaline, and when it’s gone, youre left with a nagging sense of restlessness. I left the field of EMS and completed a PhD in anthropology. I hoped the intellectual challenge would replace the physical and emotional challenges of my previous occupation. In many ways it did. In other ways, I still feel the pull of a field that shapes you as an individual. So I maintain my paramedic license out of a sense of remembrance and loss, the remembrance of being a young rookie beginning a new career and the loss of knowing those days are part of an unalterable past.

The field of EMS changed me. It carved out a personality I never knew existed, one of aggression, intensity, and determination. The physical demands of firefighting, combined with the emotional challenges of dealing with the sick and the dead, produce profound changes in an individual. It is a rare opportunity to be tested in such a way.

Within these pages, I have tried to re-create my experiences in the field. The book is divided into four parts. The first recounts my experiences upon entering the field and what it was like to acclimate to the world of firefighting and EMS. These experiences shaped me as a professional. The second part recounts my work as a firefighter-paramedic, primarily with the Orlando Fire Department, where I spent the majority of my career on some of the busiest trucks in the city. The third part provides an overview of my rise up the chain of command at OFD and the education and experience that went into that process. The fourth recounts the events that led

Wents, Rachel K. Let Burn. >) E-book, East Lansing, MI: Michigan State University Press, 2013, https://doi.org/10.%4321/9781611860719. Downloaded on behalf of University of Michigan, Ann Arbor

Introduction to the end of my career. It has taken me over a decade to gain the perspective needed to put these events down on paper, to formulate the necessary detachment that comes with time and introspection.

These memories invoke pleasure and pain, but also a sense of longing: longing for the excitement I felt upon entering the field, for the camaraderie of the fire department, and for a career that was cut short. But the end of my career meant the start of a new one. It forced me into the intellectual arena of a doctoral program, and I took with me the hard-earned lessons of EMS. These lessons instilled in me a perspective few jobs can. They have given me an appreciation for the brevity of our existence and the frailty of the human body where, within a split second, all that you are and all that you have can be ripped from you. These lessons are priceless.

Wents, Rachel K. Let Burn.

E-book, East Lansing, MI: Michigan State University Press, 2013, https://doi org/10.B1321/978161 1860719. Downloaded on behalf of University of Michigan, Ann Arbor

Wents, Rachel K. Let Burn.

E-book, East Lansing, MI: Michigan State University Press, 2013, https://doi.org/10.14321/9781611860719. Downloaded on behalf of University of Michigan, Ann Arbor

Part One Into The Field

Wents, Rachel K. Let Burn.

E-book, East Lansing, MI: Michigan State University Press, 2013, https://doi.org/10.14321/9781611860719. Downloaded on behalf of University of Michigan, Ann Arbor

Wents, Rachel K. Let Burn.

E-book, East Lansing, MI: Michigan State University Press, 2013, https://doi.org/10.14321/9781611860719. Downloaded on behalf of University of Michigan, Ann Arbor

GETTING STARTED

I NEVER INTENDED TO BECOME A FIREFIGHTER; | KNEW NOTHING OF the profession. My introduction to the fire service was the result of my interest in medicine. I was attending the University of Central Florida, studying my first love, anthropology. But I knew that a future in anthropology meant years of study and I was young and impatient. I wanted the freedom that came with financial independence from my parents, which meant settling on a career in which I could be trained and educated within a reasonable time frame. The most important thing to me was a job that was challenging and pushed me to excel; one that would incorporate my interest in medicine with the ability to assist those in need. My father, a navy captain and chaplain, always said that if I had a job in which I helped people, I would always have a reason to get up in the morning.

So I spent a rainy afternoon in the university’s library, scanning books on career opportunities and training programs. Sitting among the narrow shelves, I focused on the professions I found interesting. The job of a paramedic had always intrigued me. What could be more purposeful than assisting people in emergency situations, when they need help the most?

I grew up watching the show Emergency and found the profession fascinating. Paramedics are faced with different types of emergencies each shift—variety well suited to my short attention span. The fact that it

Wents, Rachel K. Let Burn.

E-book, East Lansing, MI: Michigan State University Press, 2013, https://doi org/10.74321/9781 611860719. Downloaded on behalf of University of Michigan, Ann Arbor involved medicine also drew me. At a very early age, I developed a fascination with the human body, especially the skeleton. I was amazed by the complex anatomical and physiological systems that make up our bodies— the thousands of chemical reactions that take place each second in order to sustain life. Growing up the daughter of a naval officer, I relished the times when my mother would usher me and my siblings into the base hospital for our vaccinations prior to traveling overseas. To me, hospitals were encapsulated worlds of human drama. I would wander the halls while awaiting our appointment, the cool smell of disinfectant stinging my nostrils. I watched the staff rush from room to room, wondering what was happening to the people inside. I was drawn to the field of medicine from the start.

I found a book describing the education and training involved in becoming a paramedic and set to work. The local community college offered a program and I quickly applied, just making the deadline for new applicants. The first step in the process was becoming an emergency medical technician (EMT); the training consisted of a semester of coursework followed by a semester of fieldwork. EMTs are trained in basic lifesaving procedures, including bandaging, splinting, and cardiopulmonary resuscitation (CPR). But I wanted more. I wanted to be able to administer medications, start intravenous (IV) lines, and perform advanced medical procedures. So I set my sights on completing the EMT program and going straight into paramedic school. My paramedic training would consist of two semesters of coursework, sitting for the state exam, and a “provisional” period of fieldwork during which I would complete an extensive checklist of skills before being allowed to practice on my own. The fieldwork began.

Wents, Rachel K. Let Burn. > E-book, East Lansing, MI: Michigan State University Press, 2013, https://doi org/10.44321/9781 611860719. Downloaded on behalf of University of Michigan, Ann Arbor

DOWN AND OUT

‘THE ROOTS OF OUR NATION'S EMERGENCY MEDICAL SERVICES (EMS) actually began in Europe during Napoleon’s military campaigns of the early 1800s. His physician, Dominique-Jean Larrey, was one of the first to note that expedient ground transport of injured soldiers to field hospitals could improve survival rates. These practices were later incorporated into American military campaigns. During World War I, the first field “medics” accompanied ground soldiers onto the battlefield. By World War II, medics were cross-trained as soldiers, and the era of the combat medic was born. During the Korean and Vietnam conflicts, helicopters became the most expedient means of transporting the injured. This quick transport, combined with more sophisticated equipment and field hospitals, vastly improved survival rates among combat personnel. Many of these groundbreaking techniques and practices evolved into today’s EMS systems, with expedient and effective transport and treatment of the injured being the primary objective of prehospital care.

EMT and paramedic programs in the United States prepare future EMS providers through a combination of course curriculum and field training. In the classroom, they learn the fundamentals of anatomy and physiology, a range of treatment procedures used in the field, and the skills to administer these treatments. Fieldwork is where they practice their skills on live

Wents, Rachel K. Let Burn.

E-book, East Lansing, MI: Michigan State University Press, 2013, https://doi org/10.94321/9781 611860719. Downloaded on behalf of University of Michigan, Ann Arbor patients under the supervision of experienced professionals, either in the emergency room or on an ambulance or rescue. The hands-on application of knowledge to real-life situations is critical, since books can teach basic concepts, but can’t compare to the challenges of dealing with real patients in real emergency situations.

During my first semester of EMT school, I began my emergency room shifts at a small ER in downtown Orlando. I arrived an hour early, eager to get started. The physician on staff turned out to be an excellent teacher, letting me shadow him throughout the morning as he interviewed and treated patients. I took blood pressures, bandaged wounds, and assisted him with suturing. The morning flew by and before I knew it, it was early afternoon and I had yet to break for breakfast or lunch. I was walking out of the ER when the doctor called me into one of the examining rooms, saying he had an interesting case I might want to observe.

The patient, an elderly man lying face-down on the examining table, had come in with a large lump on his back between his shoulder blades. The doc explained to me it was a sebaceous cyst. Sebaceous cysts typically arise from swollen hair follicles. They form benign, enclosed sacs under the skin and are filled with an oily, foul-smelling, cheese-like substance. Of course, I didn’t know all of this when I entered the room. I stood by as the nurse prepped the patient and the doctor assembled his equipment.

He began by injecting the cyst with a numbing agent. He applied this using a small syringe, making multiple injections into the lump. The injections caused small beads of blood to appear on the cyst, which the doc quickly wiped away using a piece of gauze. When the patient was thoroughly numb, he took a scalpel from the tray and made an incision across the cyst. It immediately began to ooze a mixture of blood and a yellowish substance that looked like cottage cheese. The first wave of nausea washed over me and I took a few deep breaths to try to clear my head.

The doc proceeded to squeeze the lump, forcing the cottage cheese out of the wound and onto the patient’s back where it was quickly wiped away by the accommodating nurse. When I thought it couldnt get much worse, he then took a small pair of blunt-nosed scissors, stuck them directly into the incision, spread them open, and squeezed the remainder of the cheese

Wents, Rachel K. Let Burn.

E-book, East Lansing, MI: Michigan State University Press, 2013, https://doi org/1011 6821/9781 611860719. Downloaded on behalf of University of Michigan, Ann Arbor

Down and Out from the lump. That was it. Suddenly, it was as if heavy, black curtains were closing in front of my eyes. My vision was reduced to a narrow hazy slit and my hearing was blotted out by the roar of rushing water in my ears. I knew the signs and symptoms of psychogenic shock, where a sudden draining of blood from the brain can induce unconsciousness. I knew I was about to experience it firsthand. I slowly backed out of the room, feeling my way down the short hallway and out into the small waiting room. The room was empty and I felt my way to a chair, tried putting my head between my knees, but was quickly overcome and passed out with my head against the wall, my legs splayed out in front of me.

I had fled to the waiting room with the hopes of remaining unobserved, noting the room was empty when I was leaving for lunch earlier. However, when I came to, I woke to a large panicked woman sitting next to me, screaming at the top of her lungs “She’s having a seizure!! She’s having a seizure!!”

Although I was confused, pale, and sweaty, I assured her I was all right, hoping to shut her up before she alerted the entire staff. Too late. The doctor, followed by two nurses and the receptionist, rushed into the waiting room, only to find me sitting there, pasty and humiliated. I explained what happened, and they assisted me to the restroom where I washed my face and collected myself. That was my introduction to the emergency room. That experience has served me well. As humiliating as it was, it taught me that when dealing with high-stress situations, control your breathing, keep your knees soft, and stay focused.

Wents, Rachel K. Let Burn.

E-book, East Lansing, MI: Michigan State University Press, 2013, https://doi org/10l1 4321/9781 611860719. Downloaded on behalf of University of Michigan, Ann Arbor

Wents, Rachel K. Let Burn.

E-book, East Lansing, MI: Michigan State University Press, 2013, https://doi.org/10.14321/9781611860719. Downloaded on behalf of University of Michigan, Ann Arbor

A BRAVE NEW WORLD

I DEVELOPED AN EARLY FASCINATION WITH TRAUMA. WHETHER IT was blunt force injuries from falls, penetrating injuries from shootings or stabbings, or dismemberments that accompany high-speed collisions, I was intrigued by injury patterns and the complex methods of treating someone with multisystem trauma. When it came time to begin riding in the field, I told my instructor I wanted as much action as possible, the busiest truck in the city. He advised me that if I wanted action, there was only one place to go: Orlando Fire Department's Rescue 2.

Station 2 was one of eleven fire stations that protected the city limits. The department was established in 1883 following a fire in a downtown dressmaker’s shop. It began with six volunteers whose equipment consisted of a hose and reel, buckets to form a brigade, a painter’s ladder, and a hand-drawn wagon with which to transport the equipment. Over its one hundred-plus year history, it has developed into one of the most progressive fire departments in the Southeast. Its emphasis on specialized training is reflected in the department’s Special Teams, which include a Dive Team, a Hazardous Materials Team, a High Angle Rescue Team for elevated rescues, and a Heavy Rescue for specialized extrication scenarios. Rescue 2 was one of three units assigned to Station 2, located on Orlando's west side. The neighborhood, just blocks from historic downtown Orlando with its beautiful buildings

Wents, Rachel K. Let Burn.

E-book, East Lansing, MI: Michigan State University Press, 2013, https://doi org/10/1 2321/9781 611860719. Downloaded on behalf of University of Michigan, Ann Arbor and tourist attractions, is known for its violence and poverty. Shootings are a regular occurrence, and a large percentage of the emergency calls involve the sizable homeless population that wanders its streets.

I drove by the station the day before I was scheduled to ride. I wanted to check out the location, as well as see what an actual fire station looked like. So I cruised by like a stalker, casing the neighborhood. The station was surrounded by small businesses and shabby houses. People wandered the streets, many pushing their belongings in shopping carts or dragging them in large grocery bags. The station itself was a two-story white masonry building with an American flag out front and a homeless man asleep on the bench next to it. A tower truck was parked on the driveway in front of the station. It had its ladder extended high into the air as men worked around it, kneeling next to equipment as they completed their morning checkout.

The size and complexity of the rigs was intimidating and my belly tightened when I thought about reporting for my clinical. But I showed up the next day, Easter Sunday, timid and ignorant. Fortunately, the crews were friendly and unassuming, and they welcomed me inside with greetings and handshakes. They showed me around the equipment, explaining what each piece was used for and the various ways they were implemented to attack fires. The station consisted of a rescue, a fire engine (“engine”) and a ladder truck (referred to at OFD as a “truck” or “tower”). Each person had an assigned position, and the tasks of each position depended on the type of incident. The interconnection of personnel and equipment fascinated me and I was instantly hooked.

OFD, like most departments in Florida, works a twenty-four-hour shift that begins at 8:00 a.m. and ends the same time the next morning. “Calls” are the emergencies and nonemergencies that the crews respond to. This term derives from two sources: an emergency incident typically enters the Dispatch Center in the form of a phone call and the Dispatch Center then “calls” out the station via emergency tones. A call is also referred to as a “run,” the term being interchangeable. Each morning, crews exchange information as to the number of runs they had the previous shift. A busy shift as Station 2 can consist of up to twenty or more runs. The language

Wents, Rachel K. Let Burn. Pi E-book, East Lansing, MI: Michigan State University Press, 2013, https://doi org/10h 4821/9781 611860719. Downloaded on behalf of University of Michigan, Ann Arbor

A Brave New World of firefighting and EMS is full of jargon, acronyms, and slang, although it varies throughout the country.

Aside from my fascination with the trucks and equipment, I found the environment equally intriguing. The crews joked incessantly. They seemed to prey on each other's faults and weaknesses, and nothing was off limits. They teased each other about events of the previous shift, told stories about embarrassing episodes in the crew’s past, and even made fun of each other’s physical characteristics. From an anthropological point of view, it was like observing a foreign culture or secret society. There were unspoken rules of conduct, especially where rank was concerned, but it was an atmosphere of camaraderie and humor. That first day at Station 2 would direct the next twelve years of my life. That day was also the point at which my mother began to die.

Wents, Rachel K. Let Burn. c E-book, East Lansing, MI: Michigan State University Press, 2013, https://doi org/10h 2821/9781 611860719. Downloaded on behalf of University of Michigan, Ann Arbor

Wents, Rachel K. Let Burn.

E-book, East Lansing, MI: Michigan State University Press, 2013, https://doi.org/10.14321/9781611860719. Downloaded on behalf of University of Michigan, Ann Arbor

LOSS

FOLLOWING MY GRADUATION FROM HIGH SCHOOL THREE YEARS PREviously, my mother had been diagnosed with breast cancer. It appeared not as a lump, but as a small indentation in her breast she happened to notice one morning in the mirror. She was diagnosed, had a radical mastectomy, and took chemotherapy for a year. It was a difficult year of illness, treatment, and hair loss. She pulled through that year with stoicism and grace, never revealing her fears and frustrations.

For three years she was fine. Her exams and scans were negative and we had begun to breathe a bit easier. But then the vomiting started. For several months, it became increasingly difficult for her to keep food down. At first she brushed it off as indigestion. The family practitioner she worked for diagnosed it as esophagitis. How he could have ignored her past history astounds me to this day, knowing what I now know about the tendency for breast cancer to spread throughout the body. She began to lose weight, eventually becoming weak and anemic. She was taken to the ER the day I reported to Station 2. I called my father that afternoon to check on her condition, but all they could determine was that she was bleeding internally. The source of the bleed was a mystery. Thus began the last year of her life.

The cancer was back, having spread to her stomach and bones. There was little they could do other than treat the symptoms and try to keep

Wents, Rachel K. Let Burn.

E-book, East Lansing, MI: Michigan State University Press, 2013, https://doi org/10h 4321/9781 611860719. Downloaded on behalf of University of Michigan, Ann Arbor her comfortable. She endured additional rounds of chemotherapy in hopes of slowing the disease’s progression. Her lungs repeatedly filled with fluid, requiring several trips to the hospital during which chest tubes were inserted into her fragile body to enable her to breathe. Many of the patient assessment skills I learned in school I perfected on her. I learned about the “tented” skin and sunken eyes of hypovolemia, where lack of fluid in the body causes the skin to shrivel and loose its elasticity. I learned the difference between rales and rhonchi, various breath sounds caused by fluid buildup in the lungs. I also learned what it was like to deal with terminal patients. I divided my time between studying and taking care of her. She would die at home one year later on Christmas Day, two months after I became a medic. She was the first person I ever pronounced dead.

Wents, Rachel K. Let Burn. > E-book, East Lansing, MI: Michigan State University Press, 2013, https://doi org/10h 421/978161 1860719. Downloaded on behalf of University of Michigan, Ann Arbor

PART-TIMER

FOLLOWING MY FIRST DAY AT STATION 2, I IMMEDIATELY BEGAN researching the qualifications for becoming a firefighter. Through my research, I found out that there were smaller departments within Orange County that relied on part-time staff to augment their full-time personnel. The part-timers were paid per call and sometimes sponsored through the fire academy. The City of Maitland was one such department.

Maitland Fire Department is a small, well-funded department that provides fire and emergency medical services to the predominantly uppermiddle-class residents of the municipality. The department consists of a single fire station located in the heart of its small downtown and relies on mutual aid responses from nearby county stations. The station houses an engine and rescue truck, with additional trucks (a ladder and brush truck) that respond to special incidents. The additional trucks are typically manned by part-time staff. The part-time staff can put in unlimited hours at the station or can respond to the station from home when the full-time personnel are called out on emergencies.

I had been told that if I went to work for Maitland FD, they would pay my way through the fire academy and I would be able to get on-the-job training in the meantime. I immediately applied. The hiring process for part-time personnel was a scaled-down version of a formal process. Since

Wents, Rachel K. Let Burn.

E-book, East Lansing, MI: Michigan State University Press, 2013, https://doi org/1011 9321/9781 611860719. Downloaded on behalf of University of Michigan, Ann Arbor many of the part-time applicants were EMTs but not certified firefighters, they were tested on basic medical skills such as patient assessment. Each applicant was also assessed on strength and agility. Although the noncertified part-time personnel were not allowed to fight fire, they were still expected to work around the equipment. Applicants had to show that they could handle heavy equipment, scale a ladder, and perform basic skills using firefighting equipment and tools. If the applicant passed both of these sections, he or she was granted an interview. I passed both of the initial tests easily and sat down for my interview in front of personnel representing each rank on the department—a firefighter, an engineer, a lieutenant, and the deputy chief of the department. At the end of the interview, when asked what my goal in the fire service was, I naively replied, “To work for Orlando Fire Department.” Although surprised by my candor, I think they respected the fact that I wasn’t going to bullshit my way through the interview. My mother instilled in me the importance of honesty and frankness. Thirteen years later, those values would play a role in the demise of my career.

Wents, Rachel K. Let Burn. 7 E-book, East Lansing, MI: Michigan State University Press, 2013, https://doi org/104 4821/9781 611860719. Downloaded on behalf of University of Michigan, Ann Arbor

TRAINING DAY

‘THERE COMES A POINT IN EVERY NEW FIREFIGHTER’S CAREER WHEN he or she must face the first training fire. Mine came when Maitland was invited to participate in a “live fire training” with several surrounding county agencies.

The training fire was held at a large, three-story wooden hotel in the rural town of Zellwood. Here several agencies got together to spare the owner the expense of having his less-than-profitable hotel demolished. Instead, they would make it a learning experience for inexperienced grunts like myself by giving us a taste of real fire.

The day was hot and muggy and we assembled around the dilapidated structure, laying out our gear. Numerous fire trucks were parked in haphazard arrangement throughout the lot. The hotel sat amid open, yellow fields, with large oaks throwing mottled shade across the surrounding grounds. While we readied ourselves for entry, training personnel gathered wooden pallets and bundles of hay, stuffing them into the rooms of the hotel where they would soon be lit off. They would then send us in and watch as the building was consumed around us. It was our job to take from the experience what we could and apply it later to real-life situations. My hands were shaking.

I had been reading everything I could about fire tactics, practicing with my gear so that I could blend in with the veterans. They sauntered among

Wents, Rachel K. Let Burn. 7 E-book, East Lansing, MI: Michigan State University Press, 2013, https://doi org/104 4321/9781 611860719. Downloaded on behalf of University of Michigan, Ann Arbor the units, greeting each other with casual nods, occasionally turning their heads to spit into the high grass, a gesture of bravado among men. I stayed close to my unit, going over my equipment and checking the level of air in my tank for the tenth time.

They lit off the structure several times throughout the day, as “companies” took turns entering the building and attacking the fire. Some carried specialized tools and practiced the high-paced destruction of forcible entry. Other teams were assigned to search the building for “victims”—weighted dummies dressed in worn-out fire gear, simulating one of our own overcome by smoke. It was their job to get the dummy out into fresh air. After each evolution, the men would sit back and rest, evaluating and criticizing the teams that followed.