- 25 Nov 95
Well it's now day 2 of our detainment and I (lazy) am finally writing some notes. First the background: It started 23 Nov 94 at 1215 hrs. I was the first one to hear about it (our detention) through Major Miric, who requested a meeting between Major Milner (my OC) and Major Savic (local Serb commander). Miric told me before the OC knew that Checkpoint Papa was closed and that we would become their ‘guests'. My first reaction was not surprise, strangely enough. It was more like coping... I thought basically, okay this is the situation, what can we do about it? Lt(N) Chris Henderson (the Battle Group PAFFO) [Public Affairs Officer] and his photographer Cpl Marc Bergeron were in my Cougar 19E to film some Christmas messages at the OPs [Observation Posts] and are now also ‘here to stay'. As the situation developed, the Cougars were gathered in downtown Ilijas (Serb town 15 KM outside Sarajevo), except for about 30 soldiers who are still in the OPs including Tpr P.A. Smith (C Sqn 1H) and Tpr K. ‘Woody' Boyd (C Sqn 1H). Shortly thereafter the officers were separated from the men, and we [the officers] were allowed to keep our sidearms. The men, including my driver Cpl Rob Carter are detained and living in the Military Police Security Building in downtown Ilijas, while the officers and Sergeant Major Skelding (SSM A Sqn RCD) are sleeping in the Ilijas Brigade's Headquarters...

18 November 2003 Bosnia 1st Hussars personnel Cpl F.T. Cosgrove Ammo troop and Cpl K. Phoenix Range Control staff

Tpr K. Boyd, Lt M. Poland, President G. Bush Senior, Cpl Dan Worral OntR at Shannon Airport in Ireland returning from Bosnia May 1995.

1994 Bosnia Tpr Eric Marshall

1998 Bosnia Capt Mark Whitworth Liaison Officer

1998 Bosnia Capt Mark Whitworth with Russian BMP 2 crew and other International Liaison Officers

 
1994 Bosnia , Cpl Terry Archer putting chains on ‘Grizzly'

 
1995 Tpr Boyd UNPROFOR Identification Card

The Bosnian rotations continued and more Hussars such as Captains Mark Whitworth and Harry Chadwick, Sergeants Don Knaus and S.J. Elliot and Corporals Terry Archer, J.C. Knight, Steve Gardiner and Jessica Lee were there on what was the largest operational deployment undertaken by the Regiment since the Second World War.

A new century saw new fields of service and when Canadian troops deployed to Africa and Afghanistan in 2002-03 Hussars soldiers such as Captain Harry Chadwick and Master Corporal J.W.E. Boyd and Corporals Williams and Carr were there to represent the Regiment, helping to crew the Canadian military's newest vehicles, the Coyote and the Bison.

1995 Bosnia Cpl Steve Gardiner examining mine damaged Cougar in Somalia

1995 Cpl Steve Gardiner in Somalia

 
2003 MCpl J.W.E. Boyd and Cpl Williams in Kabul Afghanistan

Bison on road in Kabul , the ‘Palace' in the background Cpl Williams Driving

Over the past 50 years most Canadian peacekeeping operations were conducted under the auspices of the UN. A few, like Viet Nam and the Multinational Force in the Sinai were the result of other international agreements and yet others were mounted by NATO. Canada formally recognized the contributions of its military forces to peacekeeping with the issue, in 1999, of the Canadian Peacekeeping Service Medal (CPSM). Personnel awarded an operational peacekeeping medal automatically qualified for the CPSM. Not all missions are peacekeeping, however. The deployment to Afghanistan in 2003 was an operation undertaken by Canada in support of its allies and as such was commemorated by a Canadian operational medal. The following members of the Regiment, either serving as Hussars or with another unit, have been awarded decorations for their services in operational theatres, both peacekeeping and non-peacekeeping:

The deployment of a large number of Hussars to Bosnia in 1994 - 95 was an aberration. Most such deployments were made by individuals filling individual positions in regular force units and formations. The experiences encountered on these deployments were as varied as the people who made them. To better appreciate these experiences three different missions, Egypt , the Golan Heights and Congo are recalled below by Majors Ian Haley, Mike Steele and Harry Chadwick:

NOTES ON PEACEKEEPING
Major Ian Haley

 Unlike today when Reservists are invited to make up to 50% of a peacekeeping force in the early 70s Reservists had to fight to get onto missions. A few managed to sneak into Cyprus by virtue of the fact that they had been attached to a unit tasked for Cyprus and no one had noticed them or they were someone's driver etc but the thought of a reservist coming home in a body bag sent chills through 101 Col. By [National Defence Headquarters in Ottawa]. Therefore UNEFME and UNDOF were the first peacekeeping missions, where Canada would be in a support role and was therefore deemed safe enough to employ reservists. Eventually reservists would make up about 10% of the force.
 Also unlike today it was accepted that a reservist NCO would have to accept a reduction in rank to serve as we were not considered the equal of our regular brethren. With very few exceptions it was also done to ensure that there was no way a militia NCO would be placed in charge of regular troops. Mike Steele scored quite a coup by being only reduced from WO to Sgt. In fairness when I take a look at the standard of reserve training now as opposed to then they may have been right, but that's good for a great fight in the mess.

Corporal Ian Haley, the first 1st Hussar to deploy on peacekeeping, Egypt , February 1975

I was the first member of IH to deploy on a peacekeeping mission from 1 February until 1 August 1975 . I had volunteered in the fall of '74 and promptly forgotten about it. I went off to the University of Western Ontario in the fall of '74 and like many young people made all the wrong course choices and was doing miserably. The army came to my rescue, not for the first or last time, in the form of our regular force Sgt. Clerk who telephoned me on a particularly wet and cold November day and asked me if I was still interested in going to Egypt . Give me 15 minutes to pack my bag! I managed to convince the university that I had been called up and really didn't have much choice and they graciously allowed me to withdraw without a black mark against my name. As a parting gift the Regiment promoted me from Corporal to Sergeant at the Ipperwash Christmas party in December '74. I got to live in the Sergeants' quarters for a whole 24 hours before reverting to Cpl. to embark for my pre-deployment training in Petawawa in December. I guess they figured that snow vaguely resembled sand and –40degress was sort of like +40 degrees.

In those days DND really didn't have any idea of what to do with us. In UNEFME and UNDOF you rotated as individuals not formed units but the army figured they had better give us some form of deployment training so they gathered our draft together in Petawawa for six weeks training prior to going to Egypt . The Canadians were in a supply role so they dumped us into 2 Service Battalion in Petawawa. Of course in true army fashion none of the work we did in Canada prepared us in the least for what we would be doing in Egypt.

Here I met up with Cpl. Steve Hearn from the Grey and Simcoe Foresters who would later transfer to the 1H. Cpl. Jim McNeil joined us later in Petawawa and followed us over to the land of the sand a few weeks after our departure.

1975 Cpl Steve Hearn in Egypt on peacekeeping

So it was that at the age of 19 I and the rest of our draft, regular and reserve departed Uplands [the military airfield in Ottawa] by 707 at the end of January 1975 for Lahr [Germany] and then by Hercules for Ismalia Egypt. When the ramp came down I stepped out onto a runway my father had stepped onto 34 years before. Ismalia, now home to the Egyptian 3rd Army and UNEF was formerly home to the RAF Desert Air Force. Dad had arrived there in 1941 after recovering from injuries suffered in the Battle of Britain. He would remain in the Middle East until VE day. Before leaving for Egypt I had commented on the similarities of our military journey. He had however pointed out the significant difference. “You know when you're coming home”.

I had expected clear-eyed soldiers in webbing, helmet and with weapons glowering at us from slit trenches. Instead we were met by what looked like natives in various versions of uniform sitting on the hoods of trucks waving a beer and greeting us with shouts of “welcome pinky”. I was to learn that despite the best efforts of CWO ‘the Hook' Brown, the contingent RSM, to get us all dressed the same the ways of the 8th Army die hard.

The Contingent commander was Brigadier General Don Holmes, a Korea vet who kept a fatherly eye on his boys. Certain liberties were allowed but eventually he had to put the word out that there was entirely too much Canadian Club from the CANEX showing up downtown.

We slept in the old concrete block RAF barracks and if you wanted a closet you went and found a suitable crate and built one. The idea was to improve your bed space area just a little for the next guy who would come along. My contribution was a bookcase. The Israeli army had crossed the canal just north of Ismalia in 1973 so both the town and the camp were fairly well knocked about.

The biggest dangers were mines, traffic accidents and the water. The Sinai had been mined for world wars I and II and four Middle East wars. Nobody knew where the mines were and the shifting sands ensured that a track cleared one-day might be a danger the next. In retrospect our mine training was totally inadequate. In Canada we had one lecture from the field engineers, in Egypt my practical lesson was from the cab of a 5-ton multifueler. “You see that Haley, beside the road, it's a mine, don't drive over it.”

On a visit to the Golan Heights I walked out into the middle of a ploughed field to get a better photograph of the Jordan Valley . After discussing it with my travelling companion who had wisely stayed on the road beside the jeep it was agreed that perhaps I should walk back the same way I had come in. As a constant reminder of what could happen to the unwary there was a memorial at the Rabah camp [not to be confused with Rafah. The name on the map for Rabah is Romani] consisting of a jeep which ran over a mine during UNEF 1 killing its crew.

Traffic was a far greater danger than the mines as any lunatic in Egypt who could wire a vehicle together could drive. The cars weren't a great danger, as the little fiat taxicabs would generally bounce off a 5-ton or deuce and a half truck. The tandem quarry trucks were another matter and were given a wide berth whenever possible. Nobody rode in Arab taxis cabs after three Canadians were killed in one in December of 1974. After that there was a persistent rumour that the Canadians had been alive after the accident but were finished off by the locals. Whether there was any truth to the rumour or not I can't say but drivers were instructed not to stop if involved in a vehicle accident.

The water and the food could also be deadly and we only drank from our own water trailers and ate either in the mess hall or in a list of ‘safe' restaurants. The list was generally compiled by trial and error and we often considered deleting the mess hall from the ‘safe' list.

Morale among the regular members of the contingent was generally low, reflecting the general level of morale in the army at the time. The mid seventies was the time of the Canadian Forces as civil servant with the uniforms looking as unmilitary as possible and the rules of engagement designed not to offend anyone. We weren't even allowed to carry our rifles when on guard within the supply company lines. There was also the spill over effect of Vietnam . Being a soldier in the 70s wasn't going to make you popular.

The 73 Canadian Service Battalion and 73 Canadian Signals Squadron were umbrella organizations through which individuals rotated for a 6-month tour. It was therefore hard to build unit cohesion and most of the regulars didn't want to be there. Many posted their ‘179 [days] and a wakee [call]' calendars as soon as they got there. Many though tried to make the best of it but they just shook their heads when they found out we had volunteered. One of the bonuses of UN service is that everyone wore the blue beret so the distinction between regular and reservist was quickly lost.

The role of the Canadian contingent was to provide logistics and communications support to the force. Most of the reservists wound up in the Service Battalion. I went to the supply company where I experienced the UN civilian agencies for the first time. We were the storekeepers but the UN procurement staff did the procurement. Most of the material was substandard and our complaints generally fell upon deaf ears. Consequently we generally issued Canadian manufactured items to our own troops in Egypt and in the Golan Heights .

UNEFME was also a lesson in international diplomacy and psychological warfare and that was just within the force! These were the days of NATO and the Warsaw Pact. Poland , a member of the Warsaw Pact was responsible for the transportation of goods within UNEFME and shared the Ismalia Camp with us. The Canadians were responsible for rations so when the Polish convoys went to pick up rations a Canadian ration clerk went with them. So here were two sworn enemies co-habituating the same cab, trying to make themselves understood. In an effort to further thaw out the cold war we used to invite our Polish conscript drivers to the mess. This practice stopped when we noticed that the driver tended to disappear after being carried home from the Canadian mess. We were also amused to watch the morning PT run. The troops would run until they were out of sight of their officers and then walk until they came within sight of them again. The psychological warfare part came in when it seemed that their convoys commanded by an officer always showed up to be unloaded at coffee break. We solved that problem by moving coffee break around.

The most sought after job was driving the ‘ration run'. The Israelis did not allow the Poles into Israel so we resupplied the Canadian contingent on the Golan Heights , which was located on the Israeli side of the buffer zone. We would take a convoy of 5 tons across the Sinai and meet the Golan convoy in Tel-Aviv. One day across the desert and one day back with a night lay over in Tel-Aviv. An entire evening in western European culture. Restaurants, outdoor cafes, and sightseeing. To a bunch of young soldiers the sights were worth seeing. It wasn't until I looked at a postcard that I realized that the Israeli women's army uniform skirt was supposed to finish two inches below the knee and not 6 inches above it.

Then a race against time back across the Sinai to be at the Suez Canal before they pulled the pontoon bridge to let the ships through. They reopened the canal during my time there and if you didn't make it across before they pulled the bridge you were in for a long sit in the desert with home just across the canal. The ration run was so popular we did it in rotation and the efficiency expert who decided that it was much more efficient to have the Golan convoy come all the way to Ismalia was almost tarred and feathered before he saw the error of his ways.

In those days there was no Internet so mail call was the most important part of the day. There was a mail strike during my tour and there were some novel ideas thought up as to what we could do to any Canadian Postal Employee who fell into our hands. Immediate communication was by Ham radio. We had a radio station set up in Ismalia and a network of volunteer stations across Canada . A soldier could sign up for a 20-minute call. Our Ham station would contact a station close to the soldier's home and that station would then patch them through to the desired phone number. This was the only way to do it, as it was virtually impossible to get the Egyptian phone system to work.

Finally there was leave, all two weeks. You could make arrangements for your wife to meet you in Europe but the soldier was not allowed to cross the Atlantic . Since talking with a number of soldiers who have come home on leave on more recent tours I'm of the opinion that this was a good idea. Coming home has made the second part of the tour seem longer and created upheaval twice on the home front.

In summary the reservists' role in peacekeeping has been evolutionary from “combat tourist” to the Medak Pocket. Initially we had to prove we could do the job asked of us in a relatively low risk environment, where the population was largely benign and the greatest danger was death or injury from mishap. From the work of a few the Reserves have taken on tougher roles helped significantly by the increased tempo of operations and a steadily dwindling regular force. Before we start patting ourselves on the back too much we should remember that necessity is the mother of the total force!

UN Service in the Middle East - 1975
Major Mike Steele

Early in 1975, members of the 1 st Hussars were offered a unique opportunity to participate in a United Nations peacekeeping force in the Middle East (CCUNEFME). Up to that time, participation in a peacekeeping tour was something that was seldom, if ever, offered to reservists.

The 1 st Hussars had three volunteers for this draft - Cpl Jim McNeil, MCpl Ian Haley, and WO Mike Steele. At that time, and for many years after, it was standard practice for reservists to drop one or two ranks while employed on a UN tour. I was slated to go as a master corporal but at some point during the process, a vacancy for a sergeant in the Golan Heights was offered and I avoided the drop to MCpl, although at the price of a later deployment, which ran over the Christmas season until late February.

Prior to deployment, all reservists were sent to CFB Petawawa, for pre-deployment training. This training amounted to a glorified recruit course and was rather upsetting to most of us because we were used to instructing these very subjects on our unit recruit and trades courses. I was expecting something a little more intense and was expecting some information on the Middle East – customs, problems, political / military situation but received none of that.

Our trip to the Golan began with a bus trip from Petawawa to St Hubert [near Montreal ] where we stayed overnight and met up with the balance of the rotation personnel. The next day we flew, by CF 707, to CFB Lahr, Germany , where we again spent the night before embarking on a flight to Cairo , Egypt with a short stop in Beirut , Lebanon . From Cairo , we took a bus to the Canadian camp at Ismailia . At this point we received some information about the mission, local customs etc. We were also fitted for that necessity of life in a desert – desert boots!

After several days of becoming acclimatized to the country and the camp, those of us scheduled for the Golan Heights climbed aboard a Buffalo aircraft and flew to Damascus , Syria . Once again we boarded a truck for the final leg of the journey to the Canadian camp in the Golan.

The Canadian camp sits on the Israeli / Syrian border just outside the Syrian town of Kuneitra . At the time I arrived, the Peruvians and the Canadians shared the camp. Shortly thereafter, the Peruvians moved out and some time later, the Iranians moved in. Their arrival was quite impressive as they arrived with dozens of logistic-type vehicles, all of which appeared to be brand new. There certainly didn't appear to be an equipment shortage in their army.

The United Nations Disengagement Observer Force (UNDOF) consisted of four countries, Canada (Canlog), the Iranians (Iranbatt), the Austrians (Ausbatt) and the Poles (Pollog). The Canadians and the Iranians shared the camp, later named Camp Ziouani , in the Golan and the Austrians and Poles shared a camp in Syria , Camp Faouar .

At that time, the camp had been occupied for about two years. When first occupied, it had consisted of several roofless buildings, hence the name, ‘ Camp Roofless .' Two years later, most of the buildings had roofs and because Canlog was a logistics organization, the buildings were being used to stock general stores, engineer stores, rations and to do vehicle maintenance etc. Two of the buildings had been converted for use as barracks for the men, with rooms shared by 4 – 6 personnel. Senior NCO's and officers were housed in portable trailers, behind the HQ, with three personnel in each end of the trailer. In total, each NCO had his bed space and the area underneath it along with one section of a closet for uniforms etc.

The camp also had a small cement building that doubled as a Canex and a small gym for exercise. There was also a resurrected swimming pool that had been refurbished and had opened just before I arrived.

The camp itself was on a flat area that overlooked the town of Kuneitra , Syria , but was, itself, overshadowed by a small hill on the Israeli side that bristled with antennas, surveillance radars and other types of hardware. It was said, that from the top of this hill, the Israelis could see all the way to Damascus and that was quite likely true.

As mentioned earlier, Canada 's contribution to this mission was the provision of logistical support. We supplied everything from plywood to rations, transport, vehicle maintenance and repair, medical support and communications. The camp consisted of about 120 personnel, commanded by a major. About 20% of this figure were reservists. I found it interesting to note that I was the only combat arms soldier in the officer and senior NCO ranks and was also the senior reservist. Everyone else above the rank of MCpl was combat service support. The majority of the personnel had come from CFB Valcartier, so there was considerable opportunity to practice one's French.

My position was the general duties platoon sergeant and I reported to the Camp Sergeant Major . Our role as GD platoon, meant that we were basically camp-bound, doing all the odd jobs that needed to be done. We filled sandbags, dug holes, cleaned up, did guard duty, moved things, painted things (like rocks, and buildings) and did a little construction. One of the construction projects we tackled was a stage for a group that was coming from Canada to entertain us during the Christmas season. I began to draw up plans for a stage that would be high enough so that everyone would be able to see adequately. Reality soon reared its ugly head when I realized that the ceilings in the mess hall were only about seven feet high. We ended up constructing a six-inch stage, which functioned just fine. Many years later, I was reading a book about Canada 's involvement in peacekeeping duties and I came upon a picture that had been taken at that very performance on my stage!

Just behind the HQ building was a small building, not much bigger than your average outhouse, a three-holer, perhaps. We adopted this as our HQ and every morning, we met there and I organized the day's work. One day just behind our building, we discovered a dead cow. Somehow the medical officer got involved and his solution was to bury it. The medical sergeant disagreed, thinking that someone would come along to claim the body. I think there was a little bit of animosity between these two and neither would concede that the other was correct. Meanwhile, the cow was getting bigger and bigger, while their discussion evolved over several days. Eventually the word came that we could bury the now, very bloated cow. Not wanting to move the thing any further than we had to, we dug a hole right beside it, so we could just roll it over and then fill in the hole. Unfortunately, we forgot the carpenter's cardinal rule of measuring twice and cutting once (or digging once) and when we rolled Bessie over, she ended up with her four legs projecting above ground level. Knowing that we could never get her out of the hole to deepen it, I was forced to take an axe and shorten the legs enough so we could fill in the hole (with no projections).

Despite the rather spartan conditions, the camp was constantly being improved. As mentioned, the swimming pool had been excavated (it was full of garbage), the tiles repaired and it was made quite functional. Messes were panelled and painted and collections of plaques began to accumulate. Books were collected and became a small library. Movies were flown in every week (This was before the VCR) and we had a movie every night. One of my secondary jobs was that of projectionist. (I also volunteered to be the mess manager) A ball diamond was created, as were horseshoe pits and patios for the messes. Swimming and sailing were available for those on leave at Lake Tiberias ( Sea of Galilee ) about 40 minutes south of the camp.

Travel was a big attraction in such an ancient and historic country. I visited Bethlehem and Jerusalem several times. We often went to the gold shops and the Suq (bazaar) in Damascus . Tel Aviv was like any mid-size Canadian city and yet, in minutes, you could be in the ancient city of Jaffa . Haifa , Acre, Nazareth and Jericho were also very interesting. The Dead Sea was a great experience for a non-swimmer, for once, I didn't have to worry about sinking. Masada , where the Jews chose to die, rather than surrender to the Romans, was particularly interesting and scenic. It was interesting to note that you can still see the outline of the Roman camps over 2000 years later. Every city, town or village had some religious shrine associated with it. Unfortunately, the religious significance was often marred by the commercial exploitation that was so frequent and pervasive.

Kuneitra, the small town overlooked by the camp, was on the Syrian side of the border. During the war, the village had been literally flattened. In many cases, houses consisted of nothing more than a roof lying flat on the ground. There had been a small three-story hospital in the town, which was left standing; however, every single door and window had been blown out and every interior wall was pocked by bullet holes. A small cemetery near the edge of the town had been vandalized and several bodies, including women and children, were lying exposed to the elements. One old fellow, dressed in his Sunday best, was lying in his open coffin, which was propped up against another tombstone. I asked about this cemetery some years later and was told that it had been cleaned up.

Even with all the damage, people still lived in this town, mostly in the town centre. As we passed through, on our way to Damascus , the men would be sitting on the street, drinking their tea, having animated discussions.

The feeling was that the Syrians left the town in this condition, on purpose, to show the world what the Israelis had done.

The road to Damascus took us through what appeared to be a barren, rock-strewn landscape with little vegetation or life. In certain areas, you could see huge anti-tank ditches across the terrain and Syrian tanks were dug-in right up to the top of the hull. In contrast to this, the Israeli side was green and growing with gardens, houses and commerce. But they had their share of artillery emplacements, tank compounds and surveillance equipment, as well.

One of the activities that generated a fair amount of excitement in camp was the “bugout.” When the siren went, at any time of the day or night (usually night), we grabbed our weapons and kit and reported to the compound where we prepared to depart. We never actually got out of the gate but we sure had a lot of practice getting ready for it.

This was a frequent reminder that these two countries were still in a state of armed preparedness for war. Other reminders were the regular artillery practices held early in the morning on the Israeli side, the burned–out armoured vehicles sitting on the roadsides of both countries, the barbed wire covering the mine-field on the border just behind our trailers and the constant presence of Israeli soldiers carrying their personal weapons in shops and movies.

Congo 2003
Major Harry Chadwick

As it is 04:00 (12 August 2003) and I am in Bunia (unable to sleep, two nights in a row) I think it is time that I put onto paper the events that have occurred in this sad town since my first visit in early May, 2003. As such, this account can be classified as my ‘statement' as to what I did here. If for no other reason than my own (notoriously) poor memory's sake.

On 10 May, 2003 (8 days after arrival in-theatre) I was approached by my Boss (Colonel Jean Bouchard) with an offer to go to Bunia and act as a liaison officer from the MONUC Staff to Sector 6. Bunia had been the preoccupation of MONUC for the preceding week or two as Lendhu-Hemma ethnic violence threatened to destroy our very fragile peace agreement. I believe the city had just been taken by the Lendu.

I immediately agreed to go and (as I was talking to my wife on the phone) quickly thought up and delivered to her a lie about going on a ‘camping trip' in Katanga . Katanga is pretty far away from the Ituri region and I felt it sounded quite safe. Lynn (my wife) seemed very nervous during this tour and I did not want to worry her with details of my real mission. Bunia was then - very much - in the international press and many persons were asking questions about how close I was to the fighting. Reflecting on it now I wonder if Lynn had some kind of premonition regarding just how safe I was in the Congo.

I could not get out of Kinshasa until Monday morning, so I spent Sunday afternoon packing. Another Canadian officer had just been in Bunia … I was unnerved by his stories.

The Canadian Mil Ob first aid kit is far too heavy to transport during periods of ‘Temporary Duty'. I therefore decided to pare it down to a bare minimum. What I took fit into two large freezer bags. I have to say that I am proud of my little first aid kit. For some reason (probably my lack of medical training) the first aid kit I took was perfect. Almost perfect. The bandages, tape, gauze, and pressure bandages, were exactly what I needed. I believe I only took five pairs of latex gloves. I had need of more later.

On Monday, 12 May, 2003 Captain Rob Stein took me to the airport. All the Canadians (with the exception of the above noted officer and Colonel Bouchard) were envious of my being asked to go to Bunia. We all had expected a bit of a boring tour and were somewhat afraid that this might be our only opportunity for a ‘war story'. But, as jealous as Rob was, he helped me carry my one barrack box, one duffle bag, box of IMPs [field rations], and camp cot to the airport terminal. He also waited with me. I thank him for that today because I now realize that I was quite frightened. Before writing this I guess I never knew.

At the airport I saw, but did not talk to, a friend I now know to be Shannon Strother, of UNICEF. Nance Bright of OCHA was also there. But Shannon was mesmerizing. Standing beside boxes of food and medical supplies she was a blur of activity and concern. I was later to learn that this is her only real work speed. She turned out to be one of the true heroes of Bunia and I am very proud to call her a friend today.

The flight to Kisangani was uneventful. I did not however make the same flight connection as Shannon and the Bunia Crisis Response Team, I believe that was what they were called. I talked to Shannon at the airport and learned that a; she was American, and b; they were on their way to Bunia. Having a higher priority than me (and a more powerful boss I think) meant that they got there on Monday and I had to overnight in Kisangani with LCol Don MacGillvray. Don was a gracious host and (again) another person who helped calm my nerves. I really had absolutely no idea what I would be getting in to in Bunia.

I arrived into Bunia on a AN-24 from Kisangani on Tuesday, 13 May, 2003 . No one knew I was coming but I had the incredible good fortune of running into a fellow Canadian, Jean Clermont, a former ‘VanDoo' now working as a UN civilian. He is one of the true characters of Bunia. Jean drove me through the town and dropped me off at the UN headquarters building.

Along the way I learned that the UPC had retaken the city. This meant nothing to me except that we knew that the Lendu had taken two of our Mil Obs hostage at Mongbwalu. We believed that the Lendu were more ‘anti-UN' than the UPC. So I thought that it was probably a good thing that the UPC now owned the town.

Along the way I also saw my first ‘child soldiers'. It really took my breath away. These boys had to be 8 years old. Sad. A sight that does not leave you.

I immediately reported to the Sector 6 Commander (Col Vollott, French Army) and was told that I was not required in Bunia and that I should immediately depart. I told him that I respected his authority but that I worked for Colonel Bouchard and only he could order me back. This war between Colonel Bouchard and Col Vollott was to be constant source of friction for me over the next three visits to Bunia.

My first experience of combat in Bunia came at about noon on that day. The Lendu were attempting to retake the city and the UPC were quickly trying to repulse the attack. Behind our headquarters was a refugee camp of approximately 5000 people, all crowded as near as possible to us for protection. Guarding them (and me) were a company of Uruguayan soldiers. Every time that fire (rifles and rockets) came close to the refugees the crowd would cry or moan. A few (mostly old women) had gone insane. Babies cried. Boys ran to and fro. I remember looking at a few of the children and thinking “What is going to happen to them?” I smiled at a few but (at that stage) I was still trying to be the cold, tough Africa vet. I knew many would be dead soon and I just didn't want to attach a live child's face to the dead bodies I suspected I would soon be seeing.

I saw Shannon again, working in an alcove of the headquarters. She was wearing a blue flak jacket and helmet and either talking on a cell phone or working on the wounded. She was a hive of activity. The nervous, but engaging person I met the day before seemed to have already changed. However, she seemed to thrive on the stress, certainly she was accomplishing more than anyone else. She noted later that “The Uruguayans had never really been in a war.” I was slightly embarrassed by my meagre ‘war' experience (six months in Bosnia in 1994/95) and tried to gloss over it. As one does I suppose.

Shannon and some locals unknown to me had created an aid station in the protection offered between the two buildings. I guess there were maybe 40 wounded that day. They kept coming in. I stayed, for the most part, on the front porch and tried to raise the morale of the (very scared) Uruguayan troops. I taught them all my Spanish words and (when a pretty girl walked by) we would smile at each other. They were scared so I though a little fun would not hurt. How many times can you say “Where is the house of Maria” in Spanish?

Note: I felt it was ‘safe enough' on the porch. I was not trying to be too too near the danger. I had my helmet and flak jacket on and, more importantly, (from previous crack/thump training with the RCD) I felt the bullets sounded about ten meters away. I did not expose myself to danger for fun, I simply felt that the Uruguayan soldiers could use an officer out there with them. I do not remember seeing any Uruguayan Contingent officers at this time. I did note that the Uruguayans used the FN rifle and the C6 machine gun. So, if things went very bad I knew I could use their weapons.

One of my primary tasks from the DCOS was to report on the Uru[guayan] Batt[alion]. Many rumours were floating around Kinshasa and they were not complementary about the Uruguayans' performance. I told the DCOS that day that I felt the Uru Batt was doing a ‘fine job' and that I did not think anyone, even a Canadian, could do much more. I stand by this assessment even today. The Uruguayans are not especially skilled soldiers but they did not ‘crack' as many others would have. I am very fond of these soldiers and have defended them countless times since. I believe that the Dutch at Serbenica and the Belgians in Rwanda did no better. Probably worse.