Last winter, I was privileged to be a guest at a RCMP Officers Mess Dinner. It was interesting to observe the formal customs of their service and see how many of their traditions came from military origins; the Mounties are – at heart – a paramilitary gendarmerie, rather than your friendly local assembly of constabulary. Both sides of the tables were lined with senior Mounties in their red serge tunics, but what was truly interesting was seeing how many of them sported medals from participation in Military missions to the former Yugoslavia, Haiti and other points of interest.
More than a few of the RCMP officers present at the dinner also sported a small pin (one fellow had two) that signified the award of a commendation for courage. One Mountie I talked to about the pin had earned his by literally dragging a Serbian mayor out of the middle of a Croatian lynch mob, carrying the unconscious man to safety and staring down a number of gunmen as he did so. Judging from the tunics at this dinner, one could see that this sort of courage is not rare among our national police force and that the legacy of Walsh and Steele is very much alive. The core of the RCMP seems more than sound regardless of whatever may flake off from the Force from the current scandals in the Mounties’ headquarters.
Given the state of instruction in history in our schools nowadays, perhaps a reminder is necessary: Walsh and Steele, two of the more legendary members of the old Northwest Mounted Police, had both literally stared down collections of very angry armed men. Walsh did so while disarming Sitting Bull’s force of hostile Sioux on the run from the US Army after Little Big Horn. Both, like many Mounties after them, calmed explosive situations by sheer force of personality and raw courage.
The courage and quality of precursor generations is not missing in another institution either. One can look at the young men (and women) down at one’s local Reserve Armouries to see that the legacy of William Hall, Fred Fisher and Andy Mynarski is also far from endangered now.
As another aside, again with the reasonable expectation that some educators have failed to pass on Canada’s legacy: Hall, Fisher and Mynarski (along with 88 other Canadians) won the Victoria Cross – Britain’s and Canada’s highest award for courage. Hall, a black Nova Scotian in the Royal Navy, won his for handling a field gun even after the rest of the crew were struck down during the Indian Mutiny in 1857. Fisher fought to the death against advancing Germans at Ypres in April 1915. Mynarski literally stood wrapped in flame in a crippled bomber in an attempt to free a trapped crewmate. Many other stories of Canadian VC winners are just as inspiring.
I was in the Canadian Army from 1977 to early 1990, and this was the most peaceful 13 year period the Canadian military has known since the Second World War — though probably not because the World’s troublemakers knew I was eager to sort them out if they tried anything. To be sure, we were training in expectation of someday perhaps having to fend off a Soviet invasion of Western Europe; the victory of the NATO countries at this time was that we never had to fight: Considering how such a war might have turned out, this was just as well.
As it was, after WWII, Canadian troops fought in Korea, and faced some rather stiff situations in the 1960s (particularly for those who were in the old Belgian Congo and in Cyprus during the Turkish invasion in 1974). A few months after I left in 1990 came the Oka Crisis, and then in 1991 the disintegration of Yugoslavia (which hauled in just about every Regular soldier and a vast number of Reservists in the coming years); but there had been absolutely no combat going on in the 13 years in which I served.
In the 1970s, the very last veterans of World War II and the Korean War had marched off into retirement. Moreover, public recognition of the combat experienced by Canadian soldiers in the 1960s (the Congo and some episodes in Cyprus) was practically non-existent, and comparatively few Canadian troops had seen action anyway. Moreover, almost all of the troops who saw anything exciting were in the Regular Force; the Reservists got to stay home and train – with dwindling resources and increasingly obsolescent equipment.
The problems posed by shrinking resources, aging equipment, and an increasing number of insane politically correct directives from on high became severe in the late 1980s and into the 1990s. There was one benefit – many of the distinctions between the Regular and Reserve components of the Army (and likewise the Navy) became irrelevant as the Armed Forces grew incapable of meeting its operational requirements without using both.
Campaign medals have become very common on the tunics of Canadian soldiers in recent years – even young Reserve corporals and captains may be sporting two or three — but the Afghan medal is different. Next November 11th, look at the chests of the Octogenarians who fought in WWII; most have the basic three round medals that declared that they volunteered for service, were in uniform during the war, and the basic victory medal commemorating its end. The fellows who were deployed in operational roles have star-shaped medals – such as the Atlantic Star worn by sailors and airmen who hunted U-Boats, the North-west Europe Star for those who liberated France and the Low Countries, or the Mediterranean Star for those who fought their way up Italy.
Campaign Stars indicate that the wearer served in a war zone. In deference to political niceties, the Korean War medal is a disc and so is every “peacekeeping” medal worn by Canadian troops and police officers. The Afghan medal is a campaign star (in the irreverent style of soldiers, our troops call it the ‘Shiriken’ after the throwing star of the Ninjas). It is the first star to be awarded to Canadians since 1945
In September 2006, when the President of Afghanistan addressed our Parliament, a 100 man Honour Guard was on hand as part of the ceremonial for his arrival on the Hill. After greeting President Karzai at the entrance to the Centre Block, they stacked arms and filed into the visitors gallery in the House of Commons to listen to his address. Following this, these 100 junior soldiers were invited to a reception in the Parliament building – quite possibly the first time this has ever happened. When Karzai and Prime Minister Harper entered the room (which was also heavily attended by MPs, senior civil servants and key Conservative supporters and your humble scribe), they spent almost all of their time talking with the soldiers and their family members. All of these young soldiers were wearing the Afghan Star – they had been to war and were certainly not subdued or awed by the company they were keeping.
Right now, the Canadian Armed Forces – Regular and Reserves alike — is richly endowed with great numbers of highly experienced young NCOs and officers; who have more operational and combat experience than any generation of Canadian soldiers since the end of the Second World War. They are confident and self-assured. This is the cadre of leaders who will be shaping the Forces for years to come. The 21st Century is going to bring some severe challenges – the dangers are as real as any we faced in the 20th Century. However, for the first time in many years, I think we can meet them.
