Idaho Wildfire Ambush: Two Firefighters Killed, One Injured in Calculated Sniper-Style Attack on Canfield Mountain — Investigators Probe Deadly Plot That Shattered Northwest Community

On June 29, 2025, what began as an emergency call to a brush fire on Canfield Mountain near Coeur d’Alene, Idaho, descended into a nightmare scenario of cold-blooded violence, resulting in the deaths of two firefighters affiliated with local departments and the serious injury of a third responder. According to Kootenai County Sheriff Bob Norris, the lone gunman behind this deadly act is believed to have deliberately ignited the fire in a premeditated scheme to draw emergency personnel to the scene—only to launch a sniper-style attack on the first responders who arrived to help. Authorities later discovered the suspect dead on the mountain, a firearm nearby, though it remains unclear whether he was killed in a shootout with law enforcement or died by suicide. As the region reels from the loss of two heroes, officials at every level—from local commissioners to national firefighter leadership—have condemned the violence and vowed to uncover the motives behind one of the most shocking ambushes in Idaho’s history.

The timing of the incident—1:21 p.m. on a Sunday afternoon—suggests not only planning, but a calculated awareness of when emergency crews would be most vulnerable. By 2:00 p.m., what began as a tactical fire response escalated into a battlefield scenario, with firefighters reporting they were under live gunfire. The assault, according to Sheriff Norris, left the victims with “no chance.” The surviving firefighter was rushed to Kootenai Health in Coeur d’Alene, where he remained in stable condition but, as of the sheriff’s latest report, was “fighting for his life.” The sequence of events has stunned this small northwestern community, which had previously known little of such violence and now finds itself confronting the aftermath of a lethal ambush aimed squarely at public servants.

The emotional gravity of the moment was captured in a press conference by Kootenai County Board of Commissioners Chairman Bruce Mattare. “June 29, 2025, is a day we will not forget,” he said, his tone reflecting both sorrow and disbelief. “It is the day evil showed his face, and we lost two outstanding professionals of the highest quality.” His words underlined what many in the community now feel: a breach of sanctity, an assault not only on individuals but on the very institutions of public service that communities depend upon. Mattare’s statement that such violence is “unheard of” in the area echoes the collective sentiment of a town unaccustomed to acts of deliberate brutality.

Edward A. Kelly, President of the International Association of Fire Fighters, addressed the tragedy on X (formerly Twitter), calling it a “heinous act of violence” and identifying the style of attack as “sniper.” Kelly’s use of the word “sniper” does more than describe the method; it reframes the entire context. This was not merely a random act, nor a confrontation gone wrong. It was, as Sheriff Norris noted, a “total ambush.” The shooter waited for emergency crews to arrive—targeting individuals who were responding not with weapons, but with hoses, trucks, and the courage to protect property and life.

Such acts of calculated aggression against emergency responders are exceedingly rare and represent a troubling breach of what has long been considered a sacred trust between first responders and the communities they serve. Firefighters—unarmed, trained in rescue rather than combat—operate under the assumption of relative safety when performing their duties. That assumption has now been violently shattered in Idaho, and the reverberations are likely to be felt far beyond Kootenai County.

While the names of the fallen have not been released pending notification of next of kin, officials confirmed that one firefighter was with the Coeur d’Alene Fire Department and the other with Kootenai County Fire and Rescue. Both died en route to Kootenai Health after being struck by the shooter’s bullets. Their deaths have sparked deep mourning and soul-searching among fellow responders and community members alike.

The shooter, whose identity has also not yet been made public, was eventually located on Canfield Mountain with a firearm nearby. Though there was an exchange of gunfire between the suspect and law enforcement, the Idaho State Police and the local coroner have not yet confirmed whether the fatal wound was self-inflicted or the result of police intervention. In the hours following the attack, confusion and fear swept across the region as a temporary shelter-in-place order was issued. Law enforcement feared the possibility of a second shooter. That order was lifted only after officials confirmed that the gunman had acted alone.

The search for the shooter was massive in scale, involving approximately 300 officers from various jurisdictions. The terrain of Canfield Mountain, known for its trails and thick vegetation, complicated the manhunt, turning the wooded landscape into a sprawling crime scene. Tactical teams and aerial surveillance were deployed, combing the area not only for the suspect but for any potential accomplices, secondary threats, or planted devices. As the investigation unfolded, the full magnitude of the assault became clearer: the fire had spread to more than 20 acres, and the real blaze had only just begun—in the hearts of the people now trying to understand how and why such a tragedy occurred.

The investigation into the shooter’s motives remains active and without definitive answers. Law enforcement has not ruled out any possibilities, from mental health crises to targeted hatred of authority figures. But as of now, no manifesto has surfaced, no clear ideological or personal grievance has been made known, and no warnings were issued prior to the incident. In the absence of answers, speculation fills the vacuum, though authorities have urged the public and the media to resist drawing premature conclusions.

At its core, this incident raises fundamental questions about the risks faced by first responders in an increasingly volatile landscape. Across the nation, there has been a marked increase in hostility toward uniformed public officials, often inflamed by polarized discourse and growing mistrust. While this particular attack appears to be an isolated case, its implications are national in scope. If firefighters—symbols of service, sacrifice, and neutrality—can be targeted in this way, it challenges the very boundaries of public safety in a democratic society.

In the days following the attack, a memorial procession was held to honor the fallen. Emergency vehicles moved solemnly through the region in a display of collective grief and defiance against the senseless violence that claimed two lives. The visual impact of the procession—a long line of fire trucks and law enforcement vehicles, sirens off, lights flashing—offered both a public statement of mourning and a gesture of resilience. Communities such as Coeur d’Alene are not unaccustomed to tragedy, but this attack struck a unique nerve, transforming grief into a resolve that the memory of these men would not be lost in the chaos of the act that ended their lives.

Behind the official statements, the processions, and the law enforcement mobilization are families now left shattered. They are grieving without answers, clinging to memories, photos, and last conversations. They must now face the impossibly heavy burden of funerals and farewells while the larger world watches, asks questions, and slowly moves on. Their grief will not move on. It will settle in the hollowness left by husbands, fathers, sons, or brothers who left one afternoon to fight a fire and never came home.

As investigators from the Idaho State Police delve into the shooter’s background and the mechanics of the attack, local leaders have begun to discuss the long-term implications of this event. There will be questions about firefighter safety protocols, the availability of tactical support in fire-prone regions, and even potential changes to dispatch procedures in the face of perceived threats. What was once unimaginable—that a fire call could be a prelude to targeted violence—must now be considered in the training and preparation of first responders across the nation.

The date—June 29, 2025—will now hold a permanent place in Idaho’s history as a day of deep sorrow, irreversible loss, and hard-won lessons. In the words of Bruce Mattare, it was the day “evil showed his face.” But it was also a day that revealed the character of those who rushed toward the flames, unaware that the true danger lay not in the fire, but in the gun trained on them from the shadows.

There is no undoing the tragedy, no reversing the finality of death. But as the community rallies, as investigators work tirelessly, and as the names of the fallen are eventually shared and honored, one thing becomes clear: their sacrifice will not be forgotten. They stood at the intersection of courage and catastrophe and answered a call they believed was one of duty—only to be met by the darkest kind of betrayal.

The final chapter of this story has not yet been written. There is more to learn, more to explain, more to prevent. But the legacy of those who died in service—unarmed, unsuspecting, unflinching—now rests in the hands of a community determined to ensure that their lives, not their deaths, define them.