This story also appeared in Mountain Journal When the alarm bell rings at the smokejumper base in Missoula, Montana, the countdown begins. Within seconds, Seth Patton is in the locker room, where he has minutes to wrestle into more than 100 pounds of gear — fire-resistant suit, parachute, pack and water. In less than 10 minutes, the Missoula smokejumpers, part of the most elite wildland firefighters in the country, are in full regalia boarding an aircraft ready to jet set them to a wildfire somewhere in the United States.  “We’re at the beck and call of the Northern Rockies,” said Patton, who has been a wildland firefighter for 21 years and in his 11th year smokejumping out of Missoula. “Wherever something pops up and they need us, we’ll go.” By mid-June, nearly 35,000 wildfires have burned almost 2.8 million acres nationwide, exceeding the 10-year average. The impact is only compounded by the untimely dismantling of the U.S. Forest Service, which to date has been the agency responsible for providing two-thirds of the personnel needed in the fight against fire. Smokejumpers, housed within the Forest Service, have evolved alongside changing climate, fire regimes and administrations. But their capacity to be the “Swiss army knife” of the fire world has been a constant amid the burgeoning wildfire crisis. The Missoula smokejumpers In 1939, the Forest Service first tested whether firefighters could safely land in rugged alpine terrain utilizing aircrafts, custom parachutes and cargo drops. After 58 successful jumps, two smokejumper bases were established in Winthrop, Washington, and in Missoula, Montana. The first smokejumper training took place in the spring of 1940 at Seeley Lake northeast of Missoula and the first jump on an active forest fire in American history occurred in the Nez Perce National Forest, just 30 miles west of “Zootown,” as it’s affectionately known, the very same year. This culmination of major historical benchmarks explains why many consider the Missoula base to be the birthplace of smokejumping. This new aerial firefighting force was aimed at containing small backcountry fires, often caused by lightning, before they grew to large scale. But the ability to unlock new territory from above also led smokejumpers to serving the public in other ways. From WWII through the 1970s, smokejumpers from Missoula were recruited to help the Central Intelligence Agency in classified missions against the Chinese and Soviet Union, dropping cargo or personnel during geopolitical conflicts throughout the mid-20th century. Several smokejumpers reached new heights, going on to become some of the first astronauts in the United States. Bob Beckley began his smokejumping career with the U.S. Forest Service in 1983. Credit: The Smokey Generation/Wildfire International Today, about 450 smokejumpers between the Forest Service and the Bureau of Land Management fly out of nine bases in the U.S. Known as the country’s most rigorously trained firefighters, smokejumpers undergo strenuous tests that result in just 50-70 percent of recruits successfully graduating. Not only does every jumper possess a high-level set of physical fitness, knowledge of fire and enough moxie to jump out of a plane at 3,000 feet, they also tout a propensity for surviving in the most remote corners of the wilderness. “There aren’t apps for what we do in the woods,” said Bob Beckley, a former smokejumper who retired from the role in 1985 and now works for organizations advancing the social and economic welfare of federal workers. “What you’re taught is problem-solving skills and how to think. That’s a good part of what we do in fire. In those complex situations, it’s about how you think.” Seth Patton, an instructor at the Missoula smokejumper base on May 19. Patton has been in fire for 21 years and smokejumping for nearly a decade. “We’re at the beck and call of Northern Rockies,” Patton said. Credit: John Stember When Beckley first started jumping in the ‘80s, there were times when just two people were dispatched to a wildfire, which would explain the expectation that smokejumpers “carry their own weight.” He also says the fire season at that time was more consistent: six months. They used the other half of the year to recuperate both mentally and physically making the risk and often grueling conditions more manageable. Today marks a whole new era for the job, Beckley says, due to increasingly complex and intense fires driven by the winds of climate change.  “Because of the skill level and who the jumpers are, they’re operating more and more as single-type resources,” he said, referencing a smokejumper’s multitude of roles on a wildfire. “So the nature of fire has changed, and hence the nature of smokejumping and firefighting in general is changing to try to meet that need.” Beckley and Patton say smokejumpers over the years have adapted to fit the mold of wildfire dynamics. Recent studies show a 43-percent increase in catastrophic wildfire disasters over the past 10 years, pushing those on the fireline today to bolster their arsenal for new scenarios. For wildfire management as a whole, this has progressively led to an increased number of mitigation tactics. Rising to the occasion, smokejumpers, often first on the ground, assist with everything from prescribed burns to fires that have burned beyond the resources t ground operations can manage. “I think part of the reason why smokejumpers are able to fill a variety of roles is because we’re more autonomous,” Patton said. “We’ve got all these people that can do different things and so we’ve got the capability to be a Swiss army knife.” Into the Fire The Missoula smokejumpers return to base after a successful proficiency jump. The Missoula base currently is home to 70 smokejumpers who must complete training jumps every 14 days. There are nine smokejumper bases across the western U.S. Credit: John Stember Although the Forest Service has been fighting wildfires since its 1905 inception, it operates under a doctrine of  “multiple use,” managing public lands for everything from ecosystem health to economic gains that help meet present and future needs of the American people. Federal cuts to the Forest Service, including the dismissal of 1,400 wildfire-certified employees since Trump took office for his second term, and the recent “restructuring” that shuttered hundreds of research facilities, makes upholding this mission all the more difficult for those remaining. “This reorganization is a dismantling of our public land system,” Beckley said. “When we cut budgets, when we lose people, then it makes it very easy to say, well, the Forest Service isn’t doing their job.”  This, coupled with the Trump administration’s freshly minted “Wildland Fire Service,” leaves much uncertainty for who’s responsible for what as the height of fire season approaches. Fundamental questions have yet to be answered about this consolidation of wildfire resources, particularly regarding its practicality; Congress has asked the U.S. departments of Agriculture and Interior for a feasibility study, requesting that Forest Service functions, personnel and resources remain within the Forest Service until its completion. Manpower and resources are vital components of wildland fire, but so is the living body of institutional knowledge that grows throughout each generation of those doing the work. Kurt Rohrback, the base manager of the Missoula smokejumpers, removes his jump equipment after a training jump in mid-May. There are typically 10 jumpers, two spotters, and two pilots on an aircraft. Jumpers exit from the aircraft at approximately 3,000 feet. Credit: John Stember “People in the Forest Service with boots on the ground are the ones doing the research,” Beckley said. “But now we’re not just teaching you how to do it, we’re teaching you why you do it that way. And that makes a more astute, more informed, safer wildland firefighter.” The Forest Service’s National Technology and Development Program, which has one of two facilities in Missoula, works in tandem with fire crews, researching the wildland firefighter’s experience. The program has developed tools that improve efficiency, effectiveness and, most importantly, safety in the field. Innovations like the personal fire shelter, flame-resistant Nomex clothing, flight-safe bear spray canisters, as well as other gear and safety programs have all come from NTDP. Nowadays, everything a smokejumper uses on a mission, except their parachutes, is made in-house.  “That’s the equipment that will save our lives,” said Kurt Rohrbach, Missoula’s base manager. Smokejumpers themselves also wield quieter capacities beyond the adrenaline-driven spectacle of jumping from planes into raging forest fires. Every jumper is certified in “rigging,” a specialized process of inspecting, packing, maintaining and repairing their personal parachutes and cargo systems. “What you’re taught is problem-solving skills and how to think. That’s a good part of what we do in fire.”Bob Beckley, USFS smokejumper (1983-1990) Considering that smokejumping involves an aerial descent into forests, they’re pretty good tree climbers as well. The smokejumper’s mantra is “speed, payload, range,” meaning they strive to grow in their ability to reach fires quickly, carry everything needed to operate independently and work in some of the country’s most inaccessible places.  Every smokejumper, from rookies up to the base manager, are always ready to jump on a fire when it starts. But the more tenured a jumper, the greater the opportunity to apply for a supervisory role. Most individuals in this elite regiment only build on their suite of skills over the years, an evolution that Patton has experienced personally. He graduated from a smokejumper to a “spotter,” akin to a crew captain of sorts who coordinates all logistics on a jump, from choosing the landing spot on the ground to continued provisions throughout the duration of a fire. No matter the rank, he says, each smokejumper’s capacity depends on the collective. “I want to work here because I trust all these guys,” Patton said. “We’re always communicating and thinking as a unit.” Culture of camaraderie Members of the Missoula Smokejumpers review footage and give feedback on a recent proficiency jump in Missoula, Montana. The average age of a load of jumpers responding to a fire is 39. Credit: John Stember A smokejumper’s job carries substantial risk. And the ability to carry that risk has had its drawbacks over the years. Beckley experienced this personally in the Selway-Bitterroot Wilderness Area on what became his final jump in 1985. He landed high in a tree — not novel for smokejumpers, but also not preferred. When he tried to repel down, the top of the tree broke off causing him to fall 80 feet. Beckley broke his back in five places. He survived the incident only to be told he could no longer jump. And because he could no longer jump, the Forest Service revoked his firefighter retirement plan.  Despite that, Beckley continued working for the agency within the Technology and Development Center, but it was his work outside of the agency that gained real strides for firefighter welfare. As the vice president of the National Federation of Federal Employees union organization, Beckley helped create the First Responders Fair RETIRE Act, which ensures that any federal first responder injured in the line of duty is still entitled to their 20-year retirement package. He also helped get the Federal Firefighter Presumptive Illness Law signed by the Biden administration in 2022. This work calcified the recognition that wildland firefighters face unique risks to certain types of disease, like cancer. Under the law, if a federal employee can prove their employment contributed to an illness or condition, their retirement also stays intact.  Kevin Dunnahoo, 26, who is in his second year at the base, carefully packs a parachute at the Missoula Smokejumper base. Packing a parachute can take up to two hours and rookies’ parachutes are typically packed by more experienced jumpers. Credit: John Stember “You don’t want to lose those people that believe in the agency, love the agency and have sacrificed for the agency,” Beckley said of the Forest Service. “And not out of their own ego or glory, but to make the agency a better place.” Other realities of the job, like the expanding wildfire season, requires an endurance that makes camaraderie essential for morale and retention. This is, according to Rohrbach, of utmost importance at the Missoula base, which has a track record to match. The average age of a load of jumpers responding to a fire is about 40, with an average individual touting 15 years of fire experience and 11 years of jump experience.  “People stick around here thanks to the experience that we keg up,” Rohrbach said. “Smokejumper culture is a very strong culture, and although it’s definitely changed a bit throughout different generations, overall we make sure to take care of each other.”  Manpower and resources are vital components of wildland fire, but so is the living body of institutional knowledge that grows throughout each generation of those doing the work. Patton says mental health is also increasingly a part of the conversation, and that nowadays more agency resources are available to wildland firefighters than when he started in the early 2000s. He makes a habit of taking more time off than required, and encourages others to do so. He and the other veteran jumpers also support incoming rookies so they can voice their concerns and feel confident when they hit the fireline. This network of support can be critical. Studies show that in the world of wildland firefighting an employee’s cumulative experience is directly correlated with their retention in the public service.Patton, Rohrbach and Beckley all say that firefighters’ pride in their work is another vital factor–keeping smokejumpers like themselves coming back to an incredibly risky and demanding vocation.  “We are a national resource,” Patton said. “There are some smokejumper bases that are more tied to the forest that they work on but we can be dispatched to anywhere. Here in Missoula, we help to boost any and all bases.” Final dress rehearsal The DeHavilland DHC-8 (also called Dash-8) makes a final pass after a smokejumper proficiency jump in Missoula. Credit: John Stember In mid-May, freshly minted and veteran smokejumpers alike load into a DeHavilland DHC-8 plane for one of the last “refresher” jumps in preparation for the height of wildfire season. The two-week training is required after the firefighters’ winter break, and includes regular parachute inspection and operation. The landing zone on this sunny spring day, marked by a bright orange flag, was flanked by two tenured smokejumpers waiting with clipboards in hand to grade each smokejumper’s performance. Aboard the DHC-8, 10 jumpers, two spotters and two pilots fly overhead, first making one flyby while tossing streamers from the aircraft to gauge wind speed and direction. The low-tech innovation actually helps predict exactly where jumpers will hit the ground, and has long helped spotters know where their smokejumpers should exit the plane. When aircraft is over the streamers landing zone, the spotters send them out one by one, each disappearing from the doorway before their parachutes bloom against the deep blue sky. But training doesn’t end once their boots touch the ground. Every smokejumper reviews footage of their exits and landings, and some wear GoPro cameras to study their movements frame by frame. The process is equal parts critique and preparation, an opportunity to identify small mistakes before they matter most on an active fire. With the height of wildfire season knocking, these same smokejumpers will soon be landing in steep canyons, dense timber and remote mountain ranges across the country. While fires are bigger, seasons are longer and the future of federal wildland firefighting is anything but certain, smokejumpers’ unique suite of skills and institutional knowledge may be one of the nation’s greatest defenses. CORRECTION: An earlier version of this story incorrectly stated the location of Seeley Lake, Montana, where the first smokejumper training jump occurred. Seeley Lake is northeast of Missoula. The post The American smokejumper: ‘Swiss Army knife’ of wildland fire appeared first on Montana Free Press. ...read more read less