Your department will schedule training. Your officer will run drills. Your instructors will teach classes. None of that makes you good at this job. The only person who can do that is you.

The schedule is the floor, not the ceiling

I’ve been in this service a long time, and the mistake I see most is firefighters treating the training calendar as the whole program. They show up for the monthly drill, sign the roster, finish the required hours and figure they’re covered. On paper, they are.

But the required hours were never meant to make anyone great. They’re the minimum a department needs to stay compliant and keep people from getting hurt. The fire doesn’t care whether you met the minimum. It only cares whether you can do the job when it counts.

The firefighters I trust most on a fireground all have one thing in common. Nobody had to tell them to train. They did it because they understood whose life was on the line, and it wasn’t just theirs.

Know where you’re weak

You can’t fix what you won’t admit. Owning your training starts with being honest about the skills you avoid. Everybody has them. Maybe it’s hydraulics. Maybe it’s throwing ladders, or tying knots with gloves on, or working the pump panel under pressure. Maybe it’s the airplane you only see a few times a year.

Here’s a simple test. If you’d rather not be picked to demonstrate a skill in front of the crew, that’s the one you need to work on. Don’t hide from it. Go find it.

Ask your officer or a senior firefighter where they see you struggle. Then listen to the answer without arguing. That conversation can be uncomfortable, but it’s a lot less uncomfortable than finding out on a real call.

Small reps add up

Owning your training doesn’t mean you need a burn building in your backyard. Most of the work is small, and most of it is free. A few things you can do on any shift:

• Pull your mask and go on air at the start of shift, every shift.
• Walk around the apparatus and put your hands on every tool you don’t use often.
• Talk through a pump calculation out loud until you can do it without a cheat sheet.
• Read one after-action report or near-miss report and ask how your crew would handle it.
• Ask someone better than you to show you how they do it.

None of that takes long. Done consistently, it changes you. Skills don’t get sharp in one big day of training once a year. They get sharp in a lot of short, honest reps nobody else sees.

Show up to class ready to work

When you do get formal training, treat it like the opportunity it is. Read whatever was sent ahead of time. Show up with your gear clean and checked. Ask questions, especially the ones you think might sound basic. If you’re confused about something, I promise you’re not the only one in the room.

Then take it home with you. A class gives you a starting point. What you do with it in the weeks after is what decides whether it sticks. Go back to the station and practice what you learned while it’s still fresh. Teach it to someone else. Nothing exposes the gaps in what you know faster than trying to explain it.

And don’t wait for permission. If there’s a skill you want, a certification you need or a class that would make you better, go after it. Ask for it. Find a way. The firefighters who grow fastest are the ones who stop waiting for somebody else to hand them development.

The bottom line

Your department owes you good training, and good departments deliver it. But nobody can make you competent except you. Know your weak spots and go after them. Put in the small reps when nobody’s watching. Come to every class ready to work, and take what you learn back to the station. When the call comes in, the crew isn’t going to ask how many hours you logged. They’re going to count on you to know your job.

Stay safe, and train like it matters.

Eric Makowski