It started like any other wildfire call—hot, fast, and urgent. But what happened next on Canfield Mountain turned a routine response into a calculated act of violence now known as the Idaho Firefighter Ambush.
At 1:20 p.m. on Sunday, crews rushed to a brush fire burning just north of Coeur d’Alene, Idaho. The flames were spreading fast through steep, wooded terrain. By 2:00 p.m., two firefighters were dead, a third critically injured, and dispatchers were calling for backup.
“Everybody’s shot up here… send law enforcement now,” came the voice over the radio.
Authorities say the man behind it—identified as Wess Roley—deliberately set the fire to lure in first responders before ambushing them with a high-powered rifle. He fired from a hidden position in the woods, using the smoke and chaos as cover.
“We do believe that the suspect started the fire. And we do believe it was an ambush. It was intentional,” said Kootenai County Sheriff Bob Norris. “These firefighters did not have a chance.”
The Idaho Firefighter Ambush unfolded over hours—fire, then gunfire, then a manhunt in the burning forest. And by the end of the day, three lives were shattered, a community was in mourning, and the line between emergency response and targeted violence had blurred.
Inside the Manhunt: Tracking the Idaho Firefighter Ambush Suspect
After the first gunshots were reported around 2:00 p.m., the scene shifted from fire response to tactical operation. A full lockdown was declared, and a shelter-in-place order was issued for the surrounding neighborhoods near Canfield Mountain.
Law enforcement feared the shooter was still at large—and that first responders or even aircraft might be targeted if they approached the blaze.
For hours, FBI tactical teams, local SWAT units, and deputies combed the rugged terrain with aerial support. Eventually, using cellphone data, officers were able to narrow in on a wooded area near the fire line. There, SWAT members discovered a man’s body—later identified as Wess Roley—alongside a high-powered rifle, as flames closed in on the site.
“We do believe that the suspect started the fire. We do believe that it was an ambush and it was intentional,” said Kootenai County Sheriff Bob Norris.
The discovery led officials to lift the shelter-in-place order Sunday night. But the danger wasn’t over.
The wildfire—still active and burning up to 20 acres—had been largely inaccessible throughout the day. “Residents in the area are advised to be prepared and ready should further action need to be taken,” the sheriff’s office warned.
Though Roley is believed to have acted alone, the search was hindered for hours by the same fire he started—leaving not only firefighters, but police, trapped in a dual-threat crisis: one man’s bullets and one man’s blaze.
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The Victims and the Aftermath
As news spread through the region, Coeur d’Alene residents gathered silently on overpasses while a miles-long procession of fire and law enforcement vehicles escorted the two fallen firefighters’ bodies to Spokane. Some waved flags. Most simply stood still.
“This is a senseless act of violence that strikes at the very heart of who we are,” said union president Justin K. Zabel. “We are devastated.”
The third firefighter—also from Coeur d’Alene—survived his injuries after undergoing surgery Sunday evening.
This kind of attack isn’t something first responders train for. Fighting fires already carries immense physical risk. Now, for these crews, it also comes with the threat of being hunted.
We are deeply saddened by the deaths of two firefighters who lost their lives while tackling a wildfire in Idaho, USA.
Our thoughts are with their families, friends, and colleagues during this difficult time.
El nostre condol i una forta abraçada. pic.twitter.com/vTuViGuwUu
— Bombers (@bomberscat) June 30, 2025
A Fire Left Burning
The Nettleton Gulch Fire, ignited as bait, was still burning as of Monday. Authorities estimate it scorched 15 to 20 acres before crews could safely return—hours after the shooting ended. Law enforcement had blocked aircraft from flying during the standoff out of fear they’d be shot down.
“I was wondering why helicopters weren’t coming,” said Bruce Deming, whose property borders Canfield Mountain. “Then I found out—they were worried about being shot at.”
Deming was the one who pointed deputies toward a trail behind his house that likely led them straight to the shooter’s position.
Crews continued to battle the flames with helicopters, bulldozers, water tenders, and hand tools into Monday. Officials say that the fire response was deliberately delayed due to safety risks—a chilling reminder of how a single shooter can paralyze a life-saving operation.
See also: “Dead Shortly”: The Text That Haunts the Roommate of the Minnesota Shooting Suspect
The Bigger Picture
Canfield Mountain is supposed to be safe. Quiet. Peaceful. A place where kids bike and retirees hike. It became the backdrop for a calculated act of domestic violence.
This wasn’t a spontaneous outburst. It was a premeditated ambush using fire as a weapon.
“Everybody’s shot up here… send law enforcement now,” came the desperate dispatch call from the scene.
Now, two families mourn, a third clings to hope, and an entire firefighting community is reeling.
