                        BC Report Magazine

                       What's an army for?

Reservists are suspended for planning to deal with a native standoff

Two Saskatchewan militiamen have been suspended without pay for
writing a realistic wargame scenario based on an Oka-like Indian
uprising. Military analysts consider the move an example of the
knee-jerk political correctness that is destroying morale in the
forces. And they wonder whether the army could react as rapidly to
a military emergency as it did to the militia officers' political
faux pas.

On the plains near Moose Jaw on certain weekends, someone out for
a stroll with his dogs might stand agape as the shrubs and trees
slowly transform into members of the Saskatchewan Dragoons on
camouflage exercises, breaking for lunch.

Several times a year, using imaginary combat scenarios that by
Canadian Armed Forces policy must be as realistic as possible,
Major Larry Mack and Captain Bill Green lead fellow Sask D
reservists training for what they would be expected to do in a
genuine conflict. As a light armoured reconnaissance squadron,
that means advancing ahead of other units, locating and relaying
enemy positions back to headquarters, and, where possible, picking
off pockets of enemy forces.

But last month one practice script, never actually used, drew fire
from an enemy more dangerous than any imaginary Phantasian Red
Force led by General Boris Badenov, the Cold War's classic wargame
opponent. The controversial scenario, written by Maj. Green and
approved by Capt. Mack, involved reconnoitring an Indian
roadblock. It was reminiscent of standoffs seen across the country
last year--road blocks that many expect will be mounted again by
militants after the spring thaw. But military authorities
immediately cracked down on the two militia officers, suspending
them without pay until an inquiry determines whether and by what
means--short of a firing squad--they should be disciplined.

To many military analysts, it looked like more of the knee-jerk
political correctness that is destroying morale in the forces. So
swift was the response, however, that observers wondered whether
the army could react as rapidly to a military emergency as they
did to a mid-ranking militia officer's political faux pas. Are
military units not supposed to prepare for possible emergencies,
such as roadblocks by Indian militants? If not, what are they
supposed to be doing? Indeed, in the wake of a further $200
million cut to the military budget announced this spring for next
year, some questioned whether it's worth maintaining an army at
all.

Time was when the purpose of the Saskatchewan Dragoons was more
clear- cut. They won battle honours in France during the First
World War, defended the Aleutians in the Second, and reformed as
an armoured regiment in 1950, reverting to their reconnaissance
role in 1968.

The two-page Dragoons scenario, accompanied by an unsigned letter
calling it "horrendous and insulting," was leaked anonymously to
various media, including Regina's CKCK-TV, on March 5. Within
hours, an alliance of Indian lobbyists and armed forces brass
pounced on the 75-member unit. They demanded the severest
punishment available for both Maj. Green and Capt. Mack, the
commanding officer. Both men are under orders not to speak about
the matter.

Citing the armed forces' policy of "zero tolerance for any kind of
racism," Saskatchewan District commanding officer Colonel Robert
Chisholm ordered them suspended, pending the recommendations of a
four-member inquiry, due to report this week. With the speed of an
avenging army, the Edmonton-based Land Forces Western Area (LFWA)
news release, penned by public relations officer Major Doug
Martin, quoted Col. Chisholm saying, "Literature of this kind is
not tolerated by the Army."

The point of the exercise script is to instruct a Sask D field
unit out in the bush to stay hidden and prepare to form a "quick
reaction force" to protect an army explosives store at Camp
Dundurn from nearby Indian militants. Dundurn is a real army base
20 miles south of Saskatoon and headquarters of the Saskatchewan
military district.

The scenario highlights the danger reservists would face in such a
crisis: "These natives don't realize they are sitting on the edge
of the largest ammo dump in Western Canada. Why if those
explosives, rocket launchers, grenades and small arms ammunition
fell into the wrong hands, the streets would run knee deep in
blood." It instructs militia leaders to "move your crew back into
the dark shadows as the noises fade. The sweat trickles down your
back...Night can't come soon enough."


Indeed, Mr. Green's work would seem to admirably illustrate the
degree of realism that is officially encouraged. The militiamen
would then have acted out an ending to the scenario, which in
their case would entail reconnaissance exercises only.

But it was the first half--setting the scene for reservists sent
to reconnoitre the blockade-- that sounded the political call to
arms for Indian lobbyists and military speech police. It is told
from the point of view of Frank Fencepost, a fictional 24-year-old
leader of 12 warriors, including a Jim Beardy, and two women, one
of whom is called Ruby Running Shoes. They are militants from the
Big Sky Band, an imaginary reserve of 250 Sioux on the southern
limits of Saskatoon, and have blockaded the highway outside Camp
Dundurn.

Entitled the "Ex-Lunatic Fringe Scenario," the introduction
continues: "Frank and his best friend, John Grey Eyes, had thought
up the plan to regain the land where their ancestors were buried.
If they could pull this off then maybe they could run cattle and
bring new prosperity to the reserve." They muse that "the area was
only ever used by those white, weekend warriors--hardly soldiers
at all." The militants have shot a 60-year-old "rent-a-cop"
security guard "who tried to stop us." Now, "his body was
beginning to bloat and stink," adding a note of urgency to the
standoff from the militants' point of view.

"Frank hoped the standoff wouldn't last too much longer, but he
knew he wouldn't give up. Better to die a warrior than to live
like half a man on the whiteman's handouts or worse, going back to
prison where every young guy was used as somebody's old lady.

"Somehow it didn't seem fair. The white guys got everything while
the Indian got nothing. No hope, no justice, no wealth. Well to
hell with glue-sniffing, punch-ups and prison. This was the first
time Frank had felt real power. He walked a little taller, saw a
little farther and the weapon in his hands seemed to fit
naturally. Yes today was a good day to die."

The political backlash after the two-page document's release was
swift. Blaine Favel, Chief of the Federation of Saskatchewan
Indians, pronounced it "a racist, stereotypical portrayal of our
First Nations people," and called for an official apology from the
armed forces, invoking the Saskatchewan Human Rights Commission.
(He later announced that because the Saskatchewan Dragoons come
under federal jurisdiction, he would take his case to the Canadian
Human Rights Commission instead.)

Chief Favel also demanded that the reserve officers be summarily
"court-martialled and drummed out of the military."

Meanwhile, the military investigation, headed by
Lieutenant-Colonel Randy Brooks, was preparing to report on what
happened and to make recommendations as to how the officers should
be disciplined. Col. Chisholm said that the calling of an inquiry
does not imply a presumption of guilt.

But the LFWA news release, penned by public affairs officer
Martin, seemed to prejudge the investigation by reporting that the
scenario "contains numerous racial slurs against native
Canadians."

That's his opinion. However, noted author W.P. Kinsella, who
created the original Frank Fence-post in his 1977 collection of
Indian stories Dance Me Outside, is baffled that the militia
script has been labelled racist. "Who would find that offensive?"
queried the author last week. "It's positive from the Indian point
of view."

Mr. Kinsella, too, has been accused over the years of stereotyping
Indians, as well as "cultural appropriation" of Indian speech
patterns in his whimsical tales. "The fact is that crime, drinking
and glue-sniffing are rife" on many reserves, observes the author.
"The activist native element," he adds, "may think these problems
shouldn't be mentioned--but that won't make them go away. Shame on
them."

It is especially ironic that Capt. Green should be accused of
racism against Indians. Principal Neil Clarke of the Palliser
Institute in Moose Jaw, where Capt. Green is dean of adult
education, reports that he has heard no previous accusation of
racism against his colleague. "He is very active in the Native
Friendship Centre and the Metis Society" at the institute, Mr.
Clarke attests. "I have heard many aboriginal students speak very
highly of him. He is your typical compassionate, humane and caring
adult educator."

When asked in an interview to explain what in the scenario is
racist, LFWA's Maj. Martin responded, "We don't need to discuss
that. If you read the scenario you'll know it contains racial
slurs." Asked to provide examples, the major replied that Chief
Favel had said it was racist. After repeated requests for
evidence, a flustered Maj. Martin said, "We're having a disconnect
here"--public relations jargon for a misunderstanding. He did add,
however, that the board of inquiry "contains a mixture of ethnic
backgrounds," and is "a very well-composed board." Moments later
Maj. Martin called back, sobbing and apparently in tears, "I guess
there was some bad judgement with the news release. We just want
to be open about this, and not give the appearance of hiding
anything."

That is "a very revealing comment," observes Scott Taylor, editor
of Esprit de Corps, the military magazine most popular with men in
the field, and the bane of senior brass and attuned public
relations officers. "What better proof that the highest priority"
of national defence bureaucrats "is not effective armed forces,
but being politically correct and managing public relations--and
toeing the party line?"

Mackenzie Institute executive director John Thompson believes the
Dragoons "were guilty of poor judgement" in writing and approving
the scenario, even if it was never actually used. "Not that it's
an unrealistic exercise," he says, "but the forces have
traditionally used a fictional enemy such as the Phantasians."
Sask D, for example, has defended "Man-Sask" against an invading
army from "Blue Land," whose capital was Edmonton. (In that
scenario, Canada backed Man-Sask against Blue Land.)

"What the militia officers didn't take into account," Mr. Thompson
says, "is how anally retentive the brass have become...They are
very hypersensitive right now," a year after the public relations
fiasco surrounding Airborne regiment hazing rituals, and as the
Somali Inquiry into the beating and shooting of teenaged thieves
entered its 159th week. "They now feel compelled to clamp down
quickly when even the faintest hint of a problem arises."

Retired Major-General Lewis MacKenzie says whatever the paranoia
in public affairs departments these days "no-one should suggest
soldiers shouldn't be training for eventualities like that." He
adds, "Perhaps the unit should be commended for creativity and
preparing for a likely scenario." That raises the issue of what
the army is supposed to be doing if not training for war and to
aid the civil power in crises such as the 1990 Oka standoff.

Analyst Thompson believes there are certain scenarios that,
however likely to come true, are unacceptable to politicized army
bureaucrats. "Despite the fact that there have already been
numerous native standoffs--Oka, Ipperwash, Gustafsen Lake--and
that there are 200 outstanding land claims across the country,
contingency plans like that are viewed as politically incorrect."

While politicians and national defence bureaucrats turn a blind
eye to making preparations, Mr. Thompson predicts Indian blockades
will go up this summer in Cape Breton Island, southern Ontario,
B.C. and southern Manitoba.

Another scenario soldiers are not permitted to practise for is
securing federal property in the wake of a Yes vote on Quebec
separation. That ban remains in force, says retired army colonel
Jim Allen, despite credible rumours that half the members of
Quebec regiments would transfer their loyalty to the Parti
Quebecois in the event of separation.

Further evidence of Ottawa's determined denial of such potential
developments was its resistance until last month to Reform party
demands that Bloc Quebecois MP Jean-Marc Jacob be disciplined for
urging French-Canadian servicemen to desert and form a Quebec army
after a Yes vote. "In no other country could you get away with
that," observes Col. Allen, a 37-year infantry veteran who served
in five overseas peacekeeping assignments.

Further defence cuts announced in Finance Minister Paul Martin's
budget this spring continue to erode morale and sense of purpose.
Delayed by one year, military expenditures will suffer a baseline
reduction of $200 million in 1997-98, and $600 million in 1998-99.
By 1998, actual expenditures will be 23% below the $11.5-billion
defence budget of 1993-94, dropping to $8.8 billion in 1998-99.

Deepening the atmosphere of confusion, even as Ottawa promised
further cuts to the forces' ability to equip themselves, the
Department of Foreign Affairs contribution to the United Nations
peacekeeping bureaucracy was increased by $63.2 million. "There is
no cohesion in this approach," said a press release two weeks ago
from St. Albert Reform MP John Williams.

"By the defence department's own logic," says editor Taylor, "they
might as well shut the whole farce down." Chief of Defence Staff
Jean Boyle announced last month that the army was unfit for war.
He said, "If the government asked me to go into a high-intensity
theatre with the equipment that I have today, I would have to say
I can't do it."

Leading left-wing military historian Desmond Morton has long
argued that the Canadian forces are deliberately being turned into
a domestic police force for controlling Indians, separatists and
other dissidents. He was quoted in the June 1994 Canadian Forum
suggesting that the army has been moving in the direction of
"something remarkably like the Armed Forces of Mexico," with "a
comparable ability to put down our equivalent of the Chiapas
uprising."

But even if that is the primary emerging military purpose, Mr.
Taylor counters that the forces don't have enough equipment to do
it. "Any materiel that could be used for internal security is
currently overseas," equipping 1,000 troops in Bosnia and 700 in
Haiti. "You would need lots of highly mobile brigades, helicopters
and light armoured vehicles, but all we have here are tracked
howitzers and main battle tanks left over from the Cold War." He
notes the total impracticality of "the massive restructuring that
would be needed, and at huge expense. The bottom line is that
there is no strategic forethought taking place." On the contrary,
Canadian military policy "is all monetarily driven, despite all
the blather about 'multi-purpose tasking.'"

Besides, judging by what's happening to the Saskatchewan Dragoons,
the army isn't allowed to train for domestic security
scenarios--not, at least, if there is any remote chance they might
actually happen. Col. Allen agrees that no hard thinking is going
on at national defence about why Canada has armed forces. "The
reason for an army," he argues, "must be to fight wars in defence
of the national interest and for the security of the state. And if
they're not prepared to fight"--as General Boyle admits--"and they
are just strung along for peacekeeping and as some kind of
constabulary force, then no army is needed at all."

On present trends the forces will continue to fade. The defence
department's force reduction program, announced in the 1994
Defence White Paper, is on schedule to reduce the regular force
from the current 65,000 men to 60,000. The reserves are being cut
to 23,000 from 29,000. Col. Allen believes Canada should be able
to defend its own shores and borders within the context of our
alliances in NORAD and NATO. "It's quite simple: no nation should
be without the ability to defend its territory," the
quintessential mark of a nation's sovereignty.

And that is where Col. Allen believes the reserves play a crucial
role, and the work of men like Capt. Green and Maj. Mack should be
encouraged. Although they are derided by regular forces as weekend
warriors playing soldier, Col. Allen says, "historically the
militia form the core of a country's defences," and the
well-spring of future mobilization.

"Frustration is brewing at the middle-rank level of captain, major
and lieutenant-colonel as well as in the ranks," says analyst
Thompson. In a political atmosphere in which two militia officers
are seen as having been hung out to dry to protect politically
ambitious generals and civilian defence bureaucrats, he says,
"There is a breakdown of the trust and loyalty essential for the
forces to function. Pity the long-suffering, loyal soldiers among
them."

--Chris Champion
