Chief Robert Perry, who has led the Union Fire District in Peace Dale, R.I., for the past seven years, and Gen. George Patton have a lot in common. Like Patton, Perry understands the importance of effective training, cares deeply for those in his command, can be a tough commander when the circumstances warrant, and knows the importance of leading from the front, rather than the rear. For all of these reasons, he is FIRE CHIEF’s 2011 Volunteer Chief of the Year.

During World War II, Patton became commander of the U.S. Third Army, which played a key role in liberating France and gained fame for its part in relieving the 101st Airborne, which had a tenuous hold on the strategic town of Bastogne during the Battle of the Bulge. But Patton had become a legend long before taking the reins of the Third Army, thanks to his success as a tank commander in North Africa. To prepare his troops for what they would encounter in the harsh, unforgiving environment in which they would do battle, Patton trained them for months in the blistering heat and desolation of California’s Imperial Valley, near Palm Springs.

Prior to becoming chief, Perry was Union’s deputy chief in charge of training and development for 16 years. During this period, he had a vision not unlike Patton’s: a state-of-the art training facility for his volunteer department. “If you can’t tie a knot, you tie a lot,” Perry said.

It was a tall order. Not only is it unusual for a volunteer department to have its own training facility, but there weren’t many in the state at the time, much less one that could be considered state of the art. Undeterred, Perry set about the task of securing the $3 million in funding and the land that were needed to build the facility. “That was a lot of money back then — it’s a lot of money now,” said Chris Hiener, who has served for the last six years as Union’s assistant fire marshal, after serving for eight years as chief of the Wakefield (R.I.) Fire Department, which is part of the fire district.

It took more than a dozen years get the facility funded and built, but it was “the only facility like it in Rhode Island” upon completion, Hiener said. It features rappelling towers, a maze through which SCBA-clad firefighters crawl through heavy smoke — even over rafters in one section — and a building where they can practice roof ventilation. Two of the 17-acre facility’s most unique aspects are its Class A burn building — the only one in the state — and the automobiles that are used as training props for fire suppression and extrication. Both add an unmatched level of realism that pays off handsomely, Hiener said.

“A lot of the burn buildings that are being built today use propane fire, but we use wood pallets and hay, which lets you see the different colors and experience different levels of heat. It’s much more realistic,” Hiener said.

Just getting such a facility built earns Perry the moniker of “visionary,” but what he decided to do next cemented his reputation: He opened the facility to neighboring departments. Now, firefighters from throughout New England regularly train at the facility, often alongside Union personnel, which has improved mutual-aid responses dramatically, Perry said.
“Because they train together, when they get to the fireground or an emergency scene, they all know how each other works,” Perry said. “The training facility has been a big bonding agent for us.”

Jumping Right in

Patton had a reputation as a no-nonsense taskmaster, but he also was revered by those he commanded because he usually was in the thick of the battle, riding on top of one of the lead tanks, carrying only his trademark sidearms. Perry is cut from similar cloth, according to Nathan Barrington, chief of the Kingston (R.I.) Volunteer Fire Company, which is part of the Union district.

“He never asks anybody to do something that he’s not capable of or willing to do himself,” Barrington said. “He has one of the strongest relationships with the firefighters that anyone has ever had, because Bob leads from the front.”

Andrew Duckworth, a captain with the Matunuck Fire Department in Wakefield, R.I., which also is part of the Union district, agreed. “At almost every fire scene I’ve been at, he’s been right in there with us,” Duckworth said. “Even if it’s pulling the lines off the truck, he’ll be there to help. He doesn’t just sit in the car — he’s hands on, as much as a chief can be.”

Everyone interviewed for this article said something similar. Hiener perhaps best summed up Perry’s approach when he said, “He jumps right in at the scene, and plenty of times I’ve seen him pick up a hose. The bottom line is that he does whatever needs to be done.”

According to Perry, leading by example is the only way to go.

“When they see me and my deputies roll up our sleeves and get to work, they jump right in with us,” Perry said. “It motivates them to know that they can depend on us.”

Perry also shares something else with Patton — a deep compassion for those whom he leads. While Patton exhibited a flinty toughness in battle and often would drive his troops relentlessly in pursuit of the objective — earning him the moniker of “Old Blood and Guts” — he also insisted on certain precautions designed to keep his troops as safe as they could be on the battleground. One such precaution was mandatory use of metal helmets, even by medical personnel working in hospitals off the front lines. Another was Patton’s insistence on every soldier wearing hot, heavy lace-up canvas leggings — hated by the troops, given the searing desert heat in North Africa — that Patton knew would keep scorpions, spiders and rats from crawling up their legs. Patton also ensured that troops received hot food and showers and were rotated regularly.

Perry demonstrates similar compassion and is equally admired by his troops because of it. One of the first things he did after becoming chief was visit all of the district’s fire stations with one of his deputy chiefs. The experience was an eye-opener.

“When we arrived, they were running out the back door,” Perry said. “They weren’t used to seeing a chief or a deputy come into the station. They were trying to hide from us because they thought they were in trouble. So, I called all of the deputies together and said, ‘This has to stop — now.’”

Perry stopped it by mandating that deputy chiefs visit stations at least a couple of times a month. He also told the chiefs that it was imperative that they get to know the district’s firefighters. Again, Perry led by example.

“If you were to ask him about any single member of his department, he would be able to tell you chapter and verse,” said Bob Lloyd, chief of the Tiverton (R.I) Fire Department, who has known Perry for more than four decades.

Father Knows Best
Duckworth, who started as a line firefighter before becoming a lieutenant three years ago and then a captain six months ago, said that Perry was there for him recently when he was experiencing a problem at home and has helped him line up landscaping jobs, which is what he does when he’s not fighting fires. “And not just me,” Duckworth said. “He does this for everybody.”

Sometimes Perry’s personal touch reaches a little farther, such as the time Barrington’s department suffered a line-of-duty death two years ago while he was on vacation.

“I was notified immediately, but because of the circumstances, he took command of everything until I could get back in town,” Barrington said.

He also told of Perry’s reaction to the new requirements for the Firefighter I classification concerning hazmat operations. “He made it a mission to set up enough study sessions to be sure that everyone passed the program,” Barrington said.

More recently, Perry found time to reach out to Duckworth when Hurricane Irene slammed into the region. “He knows that my brother has had some health issues and was in the hospital during the storm,” Duckworth said. “He made it a point during all of the commotion to call me to see how my brother was doing. With everything that was on his plate at the time, that was awesome.”

But don’t be confused by all of this kindness — Perry is not attempting to be his firefighters’ pal. Rather, the relationship is closer to that which exists between a father and son: nurturing, but when a point needs to be made, it’s made.

“When we’re on a fire call, he still has a job to do as the fire chief, and he’s going to do it” Duckworth said. “When it’s fire time, it’s fire time.

Perry is a solid tactician and on-scene commander who leverages his firefighters’ strengths, delegates well and gives strong direction, which is particularly important when commanding a volunteer department, according to Lloyd.

“They want structure and they want direction, and the chief absolutely has given that to them,” he said. “He gives them focus and guidelines to follow that tell them how things are expected to be.”

He’ll even give other departments direction when it’s needed, according to Lloyd.

“There was a fire and an outside company came in to do some work,” Lloyd recalled. “But they weren’t being supervised on an upper level like they were supposed to be and some damage occurred that probably shouldn’t have. Bob took steps to correct that department so that it wouldn’t make that mistake again.
Lloyd said that the visiting department wasn’t happy about the admonishment. “But Bob stood his ground and told them, ‘When you come into my town, this is the way we’re going to do it.”

Eventually, every father sees his children leave home, and Perry is no different in this regard, as Union loses about a dozen of its firefighters to career departments each year. It’s a bittersweet experience, but he knows that they are well prepared for the next chapter in their careers, largely because of the state-of-the-art training facility that he envisioned.

“When they go, it means that I’ve done my job.”