Flying fire isn't for everyone. It's a different world, a working world. Because one doesn't understand it doesn't mean it's not a responsible profession. There's a T-shirt in the industry that says, "I fight what you fear." In a sense, that sums it up, but it doesn't mean it's irresponsible or foolhardy.
We fly heavily loaded airplanes into confined spaces in high winds and weather, often in severe and occasionally extreme turbulence, in close proximity to steep terrain at high density altitudes. The aircraft are performance limited due to the loading and conditions.
You say let the fire burn, but it's not your home burning, nor is it your brother huddled under the fire shelter waiting for relief. You may find it frivilous work. Having worked it on the ground and in the air in most of the positions available in the fire industry, I'd disagree. But then perhaps my viewpoint is misinformed.
My primary function is initial attack. That means minimal response time in an effort to stop the fire as early as possible. A fire stopped at 1/10 of an acre and two trees is far better and far less expensive, and far less risky to life than a fire which is allowed to burn where it will and what it will. I've worked several fires this year in which homes and properties were lost and lives threatened. You might feel differently had one of them been yours.
Unfortunately we don't get to choose when a fire starts, where it burns, and often many of the circumstances under which we fight it. Fires tend to burn when it's hot. We often fight them at higher density altitudes, limiting our performance. By necessity we must work the fires close to the ground, and often in high terrain, often in very reduced visibility, and we don't get a choice in where that is, or the conditions.
The fires are usually wind driven; it's part of the mechanism of spread. Rarely are conditions calm. Severe turbulence, large windshears, etc, are typical.
You may have two kids and that may exempt you or cause you to say "no way." That's fine, and it's your right. I have four kids, and I fly professionally in order to spend time with them again. Rest assured I'm every bit as professional as you. Some scenes are never safe. I've played other roles; sometimes high in the flight levels, often down low, too. I'm a firefighter at heart, and yes, there are risks to what I do. Mitigating them is part of being professional. I don't suppose you'd be castigating your local FD or PD for doing their job...don't worry about me doing mine.
It's not at all about adrenaline. If it's exciting, you're probably doing it wrong.
A hippie in his cabin has every bit as much right to protection of life and property as a celebrity in a multi million dollar mansion. I don't give a **CENSORED****CENSORED****CENSORED****CENSORED** about social standing; everybody gets equal treatment and my best effort. That goes for every soul on the fireground, especially those working the line on the ground, who do the real work.
The point before was that rotating at the end isn't unusual a sight. Refusal speed is also often the speed at which we take the runway...because once the takeoff starts, it's not stopping. I've seen DC-4's and other gear rotate at the end, sucking clods of dirt out of the ground and tossing it twenty feet in the air just from the vortices. Making turns after takeoff to avoid antennaes, powerlines, and other aerials isn't uncommon; going around them is necessary because one isn't going over them.
It looks unusual, but believe me, it could be a lot worse.