One part gasoline, three parts diesel is a common mixture in a drip torch тАФ that┬аsteel, spouted can firefighters use to start controlled burns and┬аdeprive┬аwildfires┬аof fuel.
B.C. wildfire fighter Dylan Bullock┬аdidn’t like the look of his mixture on July 7, 2021┬атАФ the day of what the 34-year-old refers┬аto┬аas “the incident.” It was the sort of mishap where fatigue plays a role, something former firefighters fear will increase as people grow weary and leave the B.C. Wildfire Service, as the 10-year veteran Bullock did in 2023.
“I don’t feel good about that,” he told CBC Radio. “But I also know how I felt at the end of last season.”
At a time when B.C. needs wildfire fighters most, the service is struggling to retain experienced workers amid longer and harsher fire seasons. Some who have left say┬аthat┬аas seasoned┬аfirefighters burn out, newer┬аones┬аmust take their place, increasing the danger to everyone.
‘Oh, maybe I’m not OK’
It had been┬аa tough few days┬аfor Bullock. He was working his ninth season┬аwith the B.C. Wildfire Service, during the summer of 2021, the deadly heat dome in Western Canada. The town of Lytton тАФ his home base for years тАФ had burned to the ground a little over a week before. The scorching workdays stretched past 12 hours;┬аmeaningful breaks were few.
The day of the incident, he was “probably not in the best mental capacity,” but he noticed that whatever was in the drip torch didn’t look right. A crew member later recounted hearing Bullock say it “looked clean.”
Bullock asked a crew member to fetch a new drip torch, and he opened his to dump the bad fuel.┬аBut a patch of grass nearby was still burning.
“Boom.”
Bullock’s protective clothing was no match for the blaze.
“I’m now on fire,” he recalled. The radio around his neck was melting.
Bullock pulled off his shirt, and two crew members helped douse the flames.
“I think I’m OK,” Bullock said. “And I look down and all of my fingertips have these blisters on them. And there’s a massive blister on the front of my chest that looks like somebody taped a water balloon to my chest…. And I can smell burning hair. And then I’m like, ‘Oh, maybe I’m not OK.'”
Bullock was airlifted to a Vancouver hospital and put on life support before he┬аwoke up about six days later, disoriented and hallucinating from painkillers. His long recovery included multiple skin grafts.
Investigators concluded the fuel was probably contaminated with water. WorkSafeBC, the provincial agency that promotes safe workplaces, said┬аresources and response workers at the time were “stretched beyond capacity.”┬а
Despite his ordeal, Bullock┬аwasn’t ready to leave firefighting just yet.
Eager for the fray
Like Bullock, Rose Velisek┬аloved being a firefighter.
“It was just very romantic to me,” said Velisek, who had dreamed of the job since she was 14. She was accepted into the service in 2021 at the age of 20.
“I loved it. I loved how backbreaking it was.”
But by the end of the 2023 fire season тАФ British Columbia’s worst┬атАФ both Bullock and Velisek had left behind the jobs they had lived for.
Bullock says after initially enjoying his return post-accident, he was soon overcome with the persistent feeling his crew┬аwas┬аunder-resourced тАФ not enough people, pumps┬аor helicopters.
“I just felt kind of paralyzed.”
He also saw a few close calls, like when a firefighter took a wrong turn directly into the path of a┬аfire. The firefighter┬аditched his┬аcar, fleeing to safety on foot, as the heat melted the side mirror.
Fires turn deadly
Velisek also felt overwhelmed by the enormity of the fires and what her crew┬аhad at hand to fight them.
“There was a lot of pressure because there was a lack of resources, a lack of experience…. Can we complete the task we’re given? And are we prepared to?”
(The B.C. government┬аannounced a $56-million upgrade to the Ministry of Forest’s┬аair fleet and $16 million for pumps and other equipment after the 2023 season.)
Velisek┬аsays fatigue was a major factor in a vehicle collision on the job that left her “frozen and hyperventilating and panicking,” as well as with┬аwhiplash and a concussion.
Then came July 13, 2023. Bullock┬аremembers his 20-person crew had just arrived at a hotel in Prince George, when they learned that B.C. wildfire fighter Devyn Gale, 19, had been killed by a falling tree.
“The entire crew was incredibly emotional.”
Nolan Gale and Kayln Gale tearfully reflected on their sister Devyn Gale’s life and legacy at a memorial service in Revelstoke, B.C.
For Velisek, the news was chilling. More than once while she was fighting a┬аfire, trees had fallen metres from where she was standing.
In all, eight firefighters died on the job┬аcountrywide last year, including six in B.C.
Riel Allain, a former smoke jumper┬аwho quit the service after six years in 2022, voiced┬аhis concerns in┬аa then-anonymous letter to the executive director at the time┬аabout the lack┬аof retention and experience.
“People are getting exhausted,” he told CBC┬аRadio. “And they need to look at this critically тАФ and really quickly, as well, because people are leaving. And we’re hurting.”
Allain┬аalso has┬аconcerns about the $27-an-hour┬аstarting pay, but it’s the inexperience that troubles him most.
“If you don’t have that, you erode the capability of the organization to actually put fires out and keep people safe.”
‘Moral liability’
David Greer, acting executive director of the B.C.┬аWildfire Service, says he┬аfeels the weight of how to keep firefighters safe as seasons get longer and more complicated.
“I think there’s a word for it,” he told CBC┬аRadio recently about the deaths.┬а“I think it’s called moral liability, where everyone felt responsible in some way.”
Greer, who was a wildfire fighter for a decade until 2006, says training and retention is his No. 1 mission. He says he understands the pressure on firefighters, especially as the fire season can now keep them┬аfrom their families from April to November.
Because fatigue is an issue, he┬аsays, the service has introduced mental health programs and expanded crew sizes from 20 people to 22.
Greer is also helping develop the programs that will┬аbe taught at a┬аnew wildfire training centre being established┬аin Kamloops. He hopes that in┬аtime, people will be able to earn a bachelor of science in wildfire. Courses could include┬аwildfire weather, community health┬аand advanced technology.
Greer says there is no industry standard for experience that he knows of. The union that represents B.C. wildfire fighters says those with the highest level of training have about three seasons’ worth.
‘I need to get out of here right now’
Velisek, who was with┬аthe service for three seasons,┬аis almost apologetic about the incident that ultimately drove her to leave the job.
“Sometimes I don’t feel like it was … a big enough event,” she said.
It was a day when she and three other crew members were using drip torches to burn off fuel in the forest.
“I couldn’t see them,” she said. “I could only hear their voices. And then as the flames behind us started to kick up, I couldn’t hear them walking anymore.”┬а
Velisek, who had burned herself before using a drip torch, became very conscious of it in her right hand.
“If I step wrongly, it’s so thick in here, I’m going to light myself on fire again. No one’s going to hear me. What if I’m ahead of them and I cut them off with my flame because the trees are just taking off in no time at all?”
She┬аscreamed for someone to take her drip torch.
“I need to get out of here right now,” she remembers thinking. “I just, I can’t do this. I was a blubbering ball for about half an hour. I couldn’t take in my surroundings. I couldn’t take in what was happening.
“Just traumatized, I guess.”┬а
The next day, Velisek left the┬аB.C. Wildfire Service.
