Hawke's Bay Today reporter Jack Riddell does his best to act hurt alongside St John paramedics as part of a mass casualty training exercise in Waipawa. Photo / Jackie Lowry
Hawke's Bay Today reporter Jack Riddell does his best to act hurt alongside St John paramedics as part of a mass casualty training exercise in Waipawa. Photo / Jackie Lowry
It’s becoming a trend in the Hawke’s Bay Today newsroom that the more unusual story opportunities somehow end up on my desk.
And so it was again that a call came from my editor asking how I would feel about playing a car crash victim as part of a masscasualty training exercise in Central Hawke’s Bay set up by Hato Hone St John.
My last acting gig was the part of a self-flagellating member of Albany cult Centrepoint, so I said ‘yes’ straight away, confident I could play the victim.
Arriving at the St John Waipukurau Ambulance Station, I met emergency medical technician Craig Robins.
He was in charge of creating the scene emergency services had to deal with for the training exercise.
But on this night he had planned a two-car crash, and another car to hit a lightbox further down the road.
“Tonight, you’ll have a broken femur, arm haemorrhage, and head lacerations,” Robins informs me, like it’s some strange episode of ‘Stars in Their Eyes’.
A victim is removed from a car as part of a mass casualty training event in Waipawa. Photo / Jackie Lowry
Soon I was in the make-up chair where emergency management adviser David Russell was painting me up to make it look like I had just come off second best in a fight with a windscreen.
Russell has been a St John medic for 45 years and involved with hundreds of these drills.
“It enables us to test the processes around the care of the patient,” he said.
“It enables us to build a collaboration with other emergency services and it’s a safe environment for people to learn and it gives us the opportunity to put people in roles and positions in which they might not be in a day-to-day job, and then allows them to gain experience in what they’re doing.”
Russell says we live in a society where people always ask questions after things have occurred, and want to know what people are qualified to do and what they’re not qualified to do.
“You can train someone to the ninth degree but if you don’t give them the experience of being able to do the job, then that leaves a big knowledge gap,” he said.
Those being trained that night were mostly Fire and Emergency and Hato Hone St John volunteers.
“This world wouldn’t really run without our volunteers,” said Russell.
George Christieson has been a Napier-based St John volunteer for four years. He balances having a fulltime job hydroseeding, alongside his duties.
Napier-based St John volunteer George Christieson. Photo / Jack Riddell
“I’ve always wanted to do fulltime, but I actually enjoy the volunteer space and I’m not in it for the money, I’m in it for supporting the community and just being able to give back,” he said.
Legend.
Now looking suitably grotesque, I was driven to Waipawa for the exercise where I was placed in a wrecked car with my passenger who played the part of “victim with head and spinal injury”.
We patiently pretended to be severely injured and waited for the crews to arrive.
Soon Fire and Emergency arrived and were assessing the scene. This is when our acting chops kicked in.
“Help, my partner isn’t responding,” I cried.
“Partner? We’ve only known each other for five minutes,” retorted my acting accomplice, causing me to hold back laughter.
Quickly our car was filled with volunteer firefighters, assessing the scene, holding my scene partner’s neck as if it were broken, and assuring us we would be okay.
A faux sense of panic was started by us actors, pretending to be drunk, man-whinging, trying to disrupt the emergency services, but they remained steel-faced, taking on each challenge as it came.
A car after Fire and Emergency used the jaws of life to pry out a person trapped during a mass casualty training exercise in Waipawa. Photo / Jackie Lowry
They gave me faith that if this was real, they would know what they were doing.
Next, our car was surrounded by firefighters holding the jaws of life, ready to remove the car’s roof and extract us to the safety of the waiting ambulances.
“Have you tried the door, mate?” one firefighter asked.
“Yes, but I can’t open it from the inside,” I moaned.
The firefighter then cleverly tried the exterior handle, opened the door and removed me before I could experience a car extraction.
“This should be an easier way out,” he laughed.
Next, I was taken to the ambulance, diagnosed for my ailments and wrapped up.
“Does it sound like I know what I’m doing?” my paramedic asked.
“Yes,” I replied ecstatically.
“Good, I’ve been doing it long enough,” she laughed.
Jack Riddell is a multimedia journalist with Hawke’s Bay Today and spent the last 15 years working in radio and media in Auckland, London, Berlin, and Napier. He reports on all stories relevant to residents of the region.
