THE NATURAL PERSPECTIVE -- Vic Leipzig and Lou Murray

What would it be like if Huntington Beach were at the epicenter of a

really big earthquake?

Last Thursday, I found out when I was a “victim” in a mass casualty drill

at the Huntington Mall. Unfortunately, Vic’s teaching schedule kept him

from taking part.

The purpose of this training exercise, which was hosted by the Huntington

Beach Fire Department, was to test the response of the Orange County

Central Net, a coalition of city fire departments.

Piles of debris littered the floors of a dozen darkened stores in the

gutted east end of the mall. Holes in the drywall, dangling electrical

cords, and broken glass added realism to the scene. All that was needed

was a screaming mass of crushed, bleeding victims. That’s where I came

in, along with 145 other volunteer victims.

Most of the casualties were high school and college students enrolled in

nursing and health classes. Other victims came from the Community

Emergency Response Team, while a few, like me, were members of the

Huntington Beach Police Department Volunteers in Police Service.

When the first victim-volunteers arrived at the mall at 6:30 a.m., they

found breakfast waiting, compliments of Red Cross volunteers, who had

been there since 5 a.m.

Halloween came early as most victims were transformed with makeup called

moulage.

Glass, metal, and wood poked out of various parts of victims’ bodies.

Broken bones stuck out of limbs, brains oozed out of skulls, and blood

dripped everywhere.

Some victims had torn clothes and a few guys lost their shirts

altogether. Except for all the laughing at how we looked, it was

horrific. I was given the job of being a wandering psych case.

Typecasting, some would say.

Event coordinators distributed us throughout rubble-strewn stores. Some

victims were buried under bags of foam beads to make them harder to find.

At 9:10 a.m., the whistle blew, signaling the earthquake. The screaming

started. I grabbed a loose length of electrical conduit and began

meandering aimlessly, dragging the four-foot hose behind me.

From a victim’s point of view, the emergency response seemed slow.

Firefighters arrived on the scene within minutes, but those of us at the

far end of the mall didn’t see them. The firemen went from room to room,

examining people. But to us, it looked like they weren’t doing anything.

They came, they looked, they left. Some victims got triage tags, but no

one got treated. Cries of “help” continued unabated.

All walking wounded were ordered to follow a firefighter out of the

building. I continued to drag debris around and get in the way. The

firefighters were exceptionally polite and each one directed me to the

exit. Oh, if only I were rational, I would have been only too happy to

get away from the moans and screams of injured victims.

But I had my assignment. I kept trying to stop the firefighters from

helping. It didn’t take long for them to grasp my arm, escort me from the

building, and put me in the holding area with the other ambulatory

victims.

I was out of the building within 20 minutes of the “quake.”

However, the first of the seriously injured victims weren’t transported

until 30 minutes after the event. Rescuers were later reminded that the

“golden hour” within which victims are most easily saved was only 60

minutes long. Victim removal and transport would need to be coordinated

even more efficiently to save the maximum number of victims.

One firefighter was assigned to ride herd on our group, but no effort was

made to treat us.

One victim went into labor in the parking lot, unaided. Others lay

bleeding on the pavement. This lack of attention would be brought up

later as another area that needed improvement.

The moaning and screaming continued. After about an hour of this “fun,” I

decided to break role and be an observer. I wanted to return to the

action in the mall. By then, the firemen were used to my irrational

wandering and it took quite a bit to convince them that they should let

me go.

Now I saw the event from a different point of view.

When I was a victim, the response had appeared slow and overly

deliberate. As an observer, I saw the firefighters’ point of view --

backbreaking, grueling work.

Masses of firefighters toiled under a hot sun , carrying out an endless

stream of victims strapped to backboards. They worked steadily and

without pause, sweat running down their faces as the calls for litter

bearers continued unabated.

Issues of command, coordination, and communication were crucial.

The first unit on the scene set up the response. The captain assessed the

situation and called in a four-alarm incident.

Costa Mesa sent their Search and Rescue van with specialized equipment

for locating buried victims. Firefighters from Fullerton, Orange, and

Santa Ana joined those from Huntington Beach and Fountain Valley. The

captain next ordered 20 ambulances and two buses, and assigned some

rescuers to triage and others to transport.

Those in command positions were, in their own words, spinning like tops

as they jumped from one decision to another.

Less than two hours after the event began, the last of the victims were

on their way to one of the 11 hospitals participating in the drill.

The sweating firefighters headed for the coolers of iced drinks while the

Red Cross volunteers set out lunch. Slowly, the victims returned from the

hospitals and they were treated to lunch as well.

The Red Cross volunteers did a terrific job. They told me the Orange

County Chapter goes out on 200 calls a year.

After eating, the firefighters gathered for a debriefing and critique.

Chuck Reynolds, Division Chief from Huntington Beach, said that the

realism of this disaster was just incredible, a compliment to both the

moulage team and the acting ability of the victims.

Each firefighter who was responsible for commanding a segment of the

response discussed what the experience had been like for him and his

team. Then the person who had been assigned to critique his actions

commented on what had gone well and suggested where improvements could be

made.

I was impressed by the level of training and the degree of

professionalism shown by the response team. One observer said that Orange

County has the best disaster preparedness in the nation.

I believe it.

The whiners in Huntington Beach should stop griping about what we pay our

firefighters and paramedics. These guys earn it.

Vic Leipzig and Lou Murray are Huntington Beach residents and

environmentalists. They can be reached at o7 [email protected] .