No Blood, No Foul?

What we call “success” on the fireground may deserve a second look

By Timothy Sendelbach
FireRescue Editor-in-Chief

It all starts with a couple of young “Booters” (aka young, overly energetic rookie firefighters) who suddenly become bored after a gut-busting dinner. At first it’s a simple game of H.O.R.S.E. As the evening wears on, eventually the entire crew, including the more “elderly” crewmembers (a 31-year-old driver and a 40-year-old captain), is out in the bay playing along. As the trash talk escalates, someone in the group (usually one of the attention-seeking Booters who’s losing) decides to change the rules, and a game of “Killer Hoops” is suddenly in full swing. You know the game I’m talking about—the firehouse free-for-all with only one rule: No blood, no foul.
As a young firefighter in Kentucky, I played this form of roughhouse hoops nearly every shift after dinner. In most cases we had a blast, yet there were those nights when a twisted ankle, a bruised shoulder or fat lip required some makeshift medical intervention. In short, those were the days. We were having fun and playing without boundaries.

Unfortunately, some firefighters and officers have extended this free-spirited approach beyond the apparatus bay and into the streets. You know who I’m talking about—the ones who go to a fire and when the fire goes out and no one gets hurt, they immediately claim victory: No blood, no foul. In some cases, they even boast about how good a job they did.

Are they truly deserving of this self-initiated praise? All things considered, if the only way we measure whether a fire is a “success” is that the fire went out and no firefighters got hurt, we’d have the same track record if we stayed in quarters and didn’t respond at all.

Progressive organizations are willing to be critical of themselves, to constantly question the status quo. The simple fact that the fire went out and everyone returned injury-free should not be a mark of success, but rather an expectation.

With the number of fires diminishing (and being offset by EMS calls and other tasks) we can’t afford to overlook the few opportunities we have to improve our performance.

When was the last time you sat down with your crew and truly hashed out your performance on the fireground? When was the last time you discussed the communications between the fire attack group and the vent group? Were you in sync or just lucky? When was the last time you were assigned the task of “back-up” and you and your crew patiently stood guard of the exit/means of egress for the safety of the fire attack crew, vs. venturing into the active firefight? If we’re honest with ourselves, I think we all can identify a time or two when our performance was less than stellar.

It’s becoming too frequent that firefighters are overrun by fire or receive critical injuries from flashover. Close calls continue to make headlines. As sad as it is to say, there’s blood in the water. Those who aren’t willing to be critical of their performance may eventually pay the ultimate price.

For years the fire service has avoided being overly critical of the mistakes we’ve made. In fact, many departments have opted out of conducting post-incident analyses or incident reviews because of the internal battles they create. Is this the mark of a professional organization or the discouraging equivalent of a teenager who stomps their feet in frustration and runs away in rage, unwilling to play nice with others?

The competitive nature of the fire service is one of our best traits. At every level of this profession we compete—to get hired, to promote and to perform the job we love so much. So why is it that we so often refuse to be critical of our performance? Is it a fear of failure? The truth is, the only way we can avoid failure is to constantly work to improve our individual performance and the systems we work within.

In the private sector, change is not an option; it’s a way of life. If a private business fails to be critical of itself, it’s quickly passed over by its competitors. As a result, employees in the private sector are often required to seek new and innovative ways to do their jobs, which brings about constant improvements within their respective fields.

The time has come (in some cases, it may have come and gone) for members of all ranks to become harsh critics of the way we do business on the fireground, or while providing emergency medical care, rescue operations, etc. The battlegrounds of our profession are constantly evolving—and so too must we.

Legendary Notre Dame head coach Lou Holtz once said, “If you burn your neighbor’s house down, it doesn’t make your house look any better.” By setting a low bar for performance success, we accept the status quo. On the contrary, we should look at every shift as an opportunity for self- and organizational improvement.

So ask yourself this: Is it time you cried foul?