The Eternal SWEAT award

I am fortunate. I worked as a hotshot under a leader that provided purpose to my daily grind. As a hotshot you can find yourself working on crews that are the most physically fit, the best trained, the highest qualified, the most skilled group of firefighters that you can imagine. But when you get down to what comprises the highest performing crew, I point to leadership’s ability to ensure purposeful work day in and day out. It’s the ability to make sense of chaos; it's the ability to see through the myriad of shit and persevere with a plan that gives you a sense of why you are there. You find yourself contributing to the mission. The influential leader motivates you to give a little more effort so the next crewmember has the capacity to also give a little more effort. The work ethic is contagious; it stirs in you. You fight to bear the burden of the work and relieve the next in line. There are times when you physically wrestle the responsibility of additional work away from your peers. You mentor others with less experience, you follow, you learn, you listen, you are respectful, and you show up with a smile or at least are as cordial as you can be after swamping for five days in poison oak. You take care of each other. When you are with your crew there is a synergistic energy fueled by purpose to overcome obstacles in the day’s mission. There is not a better experience in wildland fire than the experience of hotshots working at the highest level of efficiency, with trust in each other, communicating without having to speak.

Although I only worked for Dewey Rebbe for two years, I can say that he is one of the most influential leaders I have ever worked for. As a leader, he treated people with respect, he held people accountable, he was personable, he was memorable. I was entranced by his persona from the first time I heard him but had no idea who he was. 

I was a first-year swamper working at night cutting line with four other hotshot crews, including the Gila Hotshots in southern Arizona. From that night I distinctly remember familiar hotshot sights and sounds, such as the Tahoe Hotshots yelling out the back door of the carrier, “come on back.” I remember a giant wizard-like figure yell, “I can hear those Region 6 chainsaws.” Dewey knew the sound of Wally Ochoa’s chainsaw. I was too new to know up from down, but I know I had the first taste of what I would commit my life to for the next 13 years as a hotshot and unknowing at the time that I would work for that shadow in the future.

Further in my hotshot tenure I had the pleasure of working for Dewey. Arriving at Negrito Fire Base and within the first day Dewey describing the “S.W.E.A.T.” (Superior Work Ethic Attitude and Teamwork) award. The plaque Dewey pointed to in the run down kitchen slash training room had names engraved on it from past recipients. The award voted on by peers to determine the one crewmember from that year that embodied what the Gila Hotshots strived for. I remember Dewey saying “when we have 20 names on this plaque, this will be one bad ass crew”, I am pretty sure there were more explicative used.

As I reflect on my time working for Dewey, I have many great memories; but what he really did for me was change my perspective on the template of a great firefighter, he made me recognize the humanness of this job. There is no checklist for this, its human interaction, respectful communication, understanding of people, it’s not quantitative but qualitative, its leadership. For that I am eternally grateful.

Dewey said that he would love to lead that crew of 19 sweat award recipients; as far as I am concerned he is leading them.

(2008 Uncle Bills; photo Ian Morgan)

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This post was used with permission. Ian Morgan is the Catalina Rincon FMO and was a Gila Hotshot (2007 and 2008). All thoughts are those of the author.