People sometimes ask how it was possible for a boy who had been sexually abused to end up being described as a homosexual who had “participated” in what happened to him. To someone reading the story today, that sounds grotesque and unbelievable. Yet in the late-1970s and early-1980s Canadian military environment, it was not unusual. The language of the Criminal Code, the structure of the National Defence Act, and the military’s own policies toward homosexuality all combined to create a framework that could easily distort how male child victims were perceived.
At the time, the Criminal Code still categorized male–male sexual conduct using offences such as “gross indecency” (s.157), “indecent assault on a male” (s.156), and “buggery” (s.155). These provisions were written in a legal era that did not clearly separate two very different things: consensual adult homosexuality and sexual abuse of a child. The offences focused on the act itself, not on the power imbalance between an adult and a child. As a result, when investigators documented an incident involving a boy and an adult male, the wording of the charge could make it read as if two males had simply engaged in prohibited sexual conduct together. Even when the victim was a child under fourteen—someone who could not legally consent—the language could blur the distinction between perpetrator and victim.
That ambiguity mattered in practice. When investigators prepared reports or statements, they often used the terminology of the offence itself. Phrases such as “committed an act of gross indecency with” or “engaged in buggery with” described the conduct in a way that did not emphasize coercion or exploitation. Instead, the wording could imply mutual participation. For a male child victim, that phrasing could become the lens through which the entire case was viewed.
Inside the Canadian Forces, the cultural context reinforced this distortion. During that period the military still treated homosexuality as a serious disciplinary and security concern. Policies such as CFAO 19-20, which addressed homosexual conduct in the Forces, reflected the belief that homosexuality was incompatible with military service. Investigations into suspected homosexual behaviour could involve surveillance, interviews about personal relationships, and administrative action against members suspected of such conduct. In that environment, any allegation involving male-male sexual activity was already being interpreted within a framework that associated it with misconduct or moral failing.
That framework inevitably influenced how professionals within the system interpreted events. Military social workers and support staff were often assigned to assist children involved in investigations. But they were operating within the same institutional structure. The National Defence Act placed criminal matters involving service members within the Code of Service Discipline, meaning that investigations, charging decisions, and disciplinary processes were embedded in the chain of command. When a case involved male-on-male sexual activity, the surrounding policies and assumptions about homosexuality could subtly shape how the situation was understood—even by people whose role was to help the child.
The ripple effects extended into military families as well. A service member raising children on a base lived within a culture where discipline, reputation, and conformity were highly valued. At the same time, the military’s stance toward homosexuality sent a clear message that such behaviour was unacceptable and shameful. When a father learned that his son had been involved in a male-on-male sexual incident, even as a victim, the institutional context could influence how he reacted. The stigma attached to homosexuality could overshadow the reality that the child had been abused.
Looking back today, the legal and cultural framework of that period is deeply flawed. Modern Canadian law has replaced those offences with a sexual assault framework that focuses on consent, exploitation, and the protection of minors rather than on moral judgments about sexual orientation. The military has also changed many of its policies and attitudes toward homosexuality. But understanding the historical environment is essential. Without that context, it is difficult to explain how a boy who had been abused could end up being labelled in ways that suggested he had participated in the very harm inflicted upon him.
Recognizing the role of outdated legal language and institutional attitudes does not undo what happened. What it does provide is a clearer picture of how the system itself could distort the experience of male victims—and why confronting that history is necessary if we want to understand the past honestly.
Beeshive 