WRIGHT-PATTERSON AIR FORCE BASE, Ohio -- For Master Sgt. Wayne Skaggs, March 15, 2025, was supposed to be an ordinary Saturday. He had set up shop at the Ohio Gun Collectors Association (OGCA) show in Wilmington, Ohio—another day of conversation, camaraderie, and civilian life.
It turned out to be anything but.
At approximately 11:15 a.m., a negligent discharge from a .308 bolt-action rifle sent a round hurtling through the venue, penetrating a book, striking one man in the leg, and exiting into another—a man sitting just feet away from Skaggs.
“When the round went off, I recognized it immediately. It was a rifle-caliber discharge,” Skaggs said. “I scanned the crowd, looking for panic. But no one was running, no screaming. That told me everything I needed to know. This wasn’t an active shooter. It was an accident.”
The man that was hit was named Mike, a fellow vendor. Skaggs had been speaking with him moments earlier.
“He pulled his hand away from his upper thigh, and I saw the blood,” said Skaggs. “That’s when I moved.”
Drawing from years of military training and experience as a B-52H crew chief, training manager, and additional duty First Sergeant, Skaggs sprang into action. Using his pocketknife, he cut away Mike’s shorts to assess the wound—a through-and-through shot to the glute. Despite the severity of the injury, there were no signs of arterial bleeding. Skaggs applied direct pressure, issued clear instructions to bystanders, and maintained steady verbal engagement with Mike to assess his condition and stave off shock.
“My wife is a nurse, and our conversations have made me much more aware of how different medical factors intersect,” he explained. “Mike had told me earlier he’d had heart surgery recently. That stuck with me. I needed to control the bleeding, but I also needed to keep his heart rate down and avoid shock, especially since he was on blood thinners.”
According to an official memorandum from the event, Skaggs led bystanders in creating a safe perimeter, cleared a path for Emergency Medical Services and coordinated the call to Mike’s wife with care and discretion.
“I didn’t want panic to ripple outward,” he said. “I wanted her to hear from someone calm, someone who could reassure her he’d be okay.”
During his recent promotion ceremony, Chief Master Sgt. David Southall, NASIC Command Chief, highlighted Skaggs’ actions.
“He didn’t act because he was trained to,” said Southall. “He acted because that’s who he is. With quick thinking, confidence, and altruism, he provided life-saving care. That’s the kind of leader we promote.”
For Skaggs, the incident was a test—not of knowledge, but of presence of mind.
“You don’t need gear to lead,” he said. “You need to know how to think, how to read people, how to stay calm when others can’t. That’s something I learned in the military and life.”
In the days that followed, Skaggs said he took time to reflect—not on the severity of the wound or the chaos of the scene, but on how quickly normalcy can break.
“What struck me most was how quiet the aftermath was,” he said. “It reminded me that leadership doesn’t always happen in formation or under rank. Sometimes it’s just about being the one who doesn’t flinch.”
The episode also underscores the traits that have positioned him for his next goal: serving as a First Sergeant. With prior experience in the role and years of leadership in training and crisis response, Skaggs is candid about the weight that comes with it.
“Some of the greatest moments in my career have come from watching First Sergeants lead in hard moments,” he said. “I want to be the person others can lean on. This incident only strengthened that.”
Southall echoed that sentiment. “Master Sgt. Skaggs has selflessly served as a dedicated focal point for readiness, health, morale, welfare, and quality of life issues for the Center,” he said. “To succeed as a First Sergeant, you must truly care for your people. Listen with your eyes and ears; think before you act or speak; and always treat everyone with dignity and respect. Wayne embodies that.”
Skaggs’ ability to remain composed in crisis is only one aspect of a broader life mission—to be present for others before they reach breaking points. During a previous assignment in Alaska, he found himself burned out from years of supporting others through mental health crises.
“I wasn’t suicidal,” Skaggs said, “but I didn’t care if I woke up the next day.” Then, while pumping gas one day, a stranger looked over and said, ‘Hey man, it’ll be okay.’ It stopped me cold.”
That moment of being seen became a turning point.
From that experience grew a more profound commitment to suicide prevention, trauma awareness, and peer advocacy.
“Sometimes the smallest acts of care—especially when they come early—can change everything,” he said. “That’s why I show up early.”
From small-town Kansas roots and competitive shooting weekends to briefing thousands on trauma response and stepping up in a moment of real danger, Skaggs’ journey is one of layered service and resilience.
“Be a good human. Do your job. Contribute to those around you,” he said. “That’s the message I try to live. And when the unexpected hits, I fall back on that.”