Uncategorized – Page 17

Have you tried counselling?

Thanks for asking.

Yes, yes I have tried counselling.

I grew up in an environment in which mental health issues were not acknowledged.

In fact, the environment that I grew up in, mental health issues were to be kept hidden due to the stigma that Canadian Armed Forces placed upon mental illness.

And for the last time, NO, the attitudes of the military didn’t stop at the front door of the PMQ. The attitudes of the Canadian Armed Forces permeated through everyone that lived on a military base. There was no escaping the military in the PMQs on base.

My father used booze to treat his mental health issues.

And back in the ’60s, ’70s, and ’80s my father wasn’t the only one self medicating.

I know that my father also had a thing for prescription pain killers.

But no matter how much his drinking and his pain killers fucked with his brain and almost got him booted out of the military, there was no fucking way on earth that Richard would ever have gone to see a psychologist or a psychiatrist.

Richard would have rather taken a bullet to the temple than talk to a head shrinker.

As mentioned elsewhere, my brain was completely fucked up in the aftermath of Canadian Forces Base Namao. On Namao, it wasn’t just the sexual abuse at the hands of the babysitter for 2 years, nor was it the frequent visits to the chapel that ended with the “sickly sweet grape juice”. It was also the fall out from my mentally and physically abusive father, and his very own mother that he had brought into the PMQ on base to raise my brother and I.

She was an Indian Residential School survivor. She was very angry, very domineering, and very cruel at times. She was also as much of an alcoholic, if not more than my father. It was the excessive drinking of her and her husband in the PMQ on CFB Namao that led to my brother frequently being placed into the care of the babysitter.

When my family was punted off CFB Namao and relocated to CFB Griesbach in the aftermath of the CFB Namao child sex abuse scandal I was quickly brought to the attention of the military social worker, Captain Terry Totzke.

I only knew Terry as Terry until August of 2011 when I learnt that Terry was a Captain in the Canadian Armed Forces.

Terry was not a pleasant man.

Terry was always angry with me.

Angry for what I had done on CFB Namao when I repeatedly had sex with the babysitter.

Terry was upset that I had allowed the babysitter to molest my younger brother and that I didn’t do anything to stop it.

I was sent to see specialists, during which Terry would often remark that I was “acting out for attention”. My father would often repeat this.

Terry always wanted to know what I intended to do to change my ways.

Once Terry and my father picked me up from Major General Griesbach School, which was the school on base for children of military families. We drove over to Terry’s office which was located over by base HQ on CFB Griesbach. As we drove past the brig, Terry mentioned to me that if I continued to be attracted to boys that I would end up in prison just like the priest.

At the time I had no idea about who the “priest” was as everything on Canadian Forces Base Namao had been hushed up. It wouldn’t be until May 3rd, 2011 that I would learn about the twisted connection between the warning of the priest in the brig, the “sickly sweet grape juice”, and my babysitter.

Due to my interactions with Canadian Armed Forces personnel Captain Terry Totzke and Master Corporal Richard Wayne Gill and the way in which the two blamed me for what had happened to myself and to my brother on Canadian Forces Base Namao I am forever immune to counselling.

I remember Terry voicing his concerns about me ever being allowed to be around naked boys in places like swimming pool change rooms because I would be too tempted.

Terry would also remind me that he had the base military police watching me to make sure that I wasn’t kissing or touching other boys.

And it gets much worse.

After we lived on Canadian Forces Base Griesbach for about a year, I started seeing other people in addition to Terry. The thing was I would never go to see these people unless my father was there or Terry was there.

I never went to see these people at Terry’s office. And these people never came to see me at MGG School. We always had to go off-base to see these people. One of these places that we’d go to had a room with a large one-way mirror. Terry would always go into the room on the other side of the mirror.

On the way over to these meetings my father would always remind me that I had to keep my mouth shut and not say a thing otherwise these people would find out what I had done on CFB Namao and that these people would twist my words and that this would put me in a “world of shit”.

When I obtained my social services paperwork in the summer of 2011 I would learn that Pat, Wayne, Laura, Aviva, and many others were the “good people” and that my father and Captain Totzke were the “bad people”. The reality was a complete 180 from what Terry and my father were drilling into my head.

According to the paperwork, when I first went into Terry’s care, he had my family evaluated by a psychiatrist that specialized in dysfunctional families.

I was found to be suffering from major depression, severe anxiety, I was terrified of men and convinced that my father was going to kill me by drowning me in a toilet, I was afraid of being touched, I talked about death and dying, and I could not express any type of emotion.

My father was found to have issues controlling his anger, felt like he was the victim, blamed his problems on others, didn’t want to take responsibility for his family, expected others to solve his problems for him.

Not once during my time in Totzke’s care was I ever sent for counselling, or received medication for my severe anxiety or major depression. Terry was adamant that I was wetting the bed for attention and acting up for attention. Terry was even more concerned about the homosexuality that I had exhibited when I allowed the sex with the babysitter to go on for so long.

Around the summer of 1982 I started going to a “special school”. Again, every day before catching the literal “short yellow bus” to go to school, my father would remind me to keep my mouth shut and to talk as little as possible to Pat and Wayne otherwise they would twist my words and make me say things that I didn’t say. Terry would also show up at this special school on occasion.

As I’ve mentioned elsewhere, in the spring of 1983 my father received a sudden posting to Canadian Forces Base Downsview in Ontario. This came right after I had apparently been “expelled” from the “special school” as apparently I was still attracted to boys.

As we drove from CFB Griesbach in Edmonton towards CFB Downsview in Toronto, I asked my father why we had to move. He said that he was saving me from the drugs that my teachers wanted to give me to make me stop being attracted to boys.

When we got to CFB Downsview and got settled into our first PMQ on that base, Richard would rage out on me frequently for “fucking with his military career”. Richard was smart. He never hit on the face. It was always on the back of the head or some other part of my body that wouldn’t show the bruising.

In 2011 I would learn that Richard was not saving me from the drugs. Richard, and possibly Terry were saving their own asses. Alberta social services informed Captain Totzke of their intentions to remove me from the home and place me into foster care. It would be safe to say that my “treatment” at the hands of Terry was to ensure that I never talked to any type of civilian authority or official about what had happened on CFB Namao least someone get curious about the entire Captain Father Angus McRae fiasco.

If I got pulled out of Richards PMQ where both Captain Totzke and my father were busy gaslighting me about CFB Namao and instead I was placed into either foster care or residential care, there was the possibility that I could have calmed down and once comfortable that I would start talking to my civilian social workers about what had truly happened on CFB Namao.

On January 26th, 1983 Totzke was informed about the intentions of Alberta Social Services to remove me from the home for my protection.

On January 28th, 1983 Totzke tells my child care worker that my father has just received a posting order from the Canadian Forces.

After my family arrives at Canadian Forces Base Downsview, my child care worker in Alberta closes my file as I now reside in a different province and that my paperwork will be returned to Captain Terry Totzke.

And this is why I really want Medical Assistance in Dying.

Unlike what the Canadian Forces National Investigation Service tried to portray in 2011, the abuse on CFB Namao was very real and very horrific. It went on for almost 2 years. It involved a teenager with no empathy and very poor restraint. It involved alcohol and who the fuck knows what at the base chapel.

Captain Terry Totzke knew about the abuse

My father knew about the abuse.

Captain Totzke actively denied me access to timely and beneficial mental health treatment, no doubt by the “lawful commands” of his superiors.

I was caught in a lopsided war between my civilian social workers who had no fucking idea in the slightest as to what was wrong with me, and Captain Terry Totzke who obviously knew what was wrong with me as he knew about the sexual abuse and he had my diagnoses.

It was drilled into my young brain by Captain Terry Totzke, and my father, Master Corporal Richard Wayne Gill, that feelings are not to be talked about, that “head shrinkers” are bad and are not to be trusted.

I’ve lived each and every day since the spring of 1980 being blamed, ridiculed, and mocked for what happened on CFB Namao.

I’ve tried counselling. But all it is is useless talking.

Counselling won’t fix anything. When you think about it, counselling is a scam. There’s nothing that it can really fix, and if it doesn’t work they just claim a 100% success rate and say that you jut didn’t try hard enough.

I’m tired.

I want out.

An utterly pointless existence.

Just spent the last three days sleeping in for the most part.

I know that it’s so very hard for you the reader to understand just how fucking hard it is to keep staying alive.

About the only thing that keeps me going is the minuscule possibility that I might be able to clear my name before I die.

My childhood was a disaster, not just because of a child predator named Angus McRae who was a member of the regular forces as a Captain, and not just because of the teens that he groomed to molest children and trained those teens to bring young children over to the base chapel.

No, my life was ruined by mostly men in the Canadian Armed Forces and the Department of National Defence who decided that my mental health and the mental health of the other children molested on various Canadian Armed Forces Bases was worth far less than the prestige, honour, and reputation of the military.

Master Corporal Richard Wayne Gill
Warrant Officer Fredrick R. Cunningham
Captain David Pilling
Captain Terry Totzke
Colonel Daniel Edward Munro
Minister of National Defence Gilles Lamontagne
And many other useful idiots “just following commands”

The Canadian Armed Forces and the Department of National Defence know how to manipulate public opinion. DND and the CAF have an extensive “Public Relations” department that knows how to manipulate useful idiots into projecting the image of the Canadian Armed Forces as being infallible and beyond reproach.

And no, this isn’t just a distant event. In the modern day the Canadian Armed Forces and the Department of National Defence have sections that engage in social media. The MPCC noted in their 2020 report that the DND and the CAF are well aware of my blog postings and my social media presence.

And yes, the Department of Justice is actually following along with my blog.

In May of 2011 the Canadian Forces National Investigation Service told the Royal Canadian Mounted Police that my case was likely to go no where due to a complete lack of evidence. This was two months before the CFNIS would talk to other victims or try to track down the perpetrator.

Of course we’d learn in 2020 that the Canadian Forces National Investigation Service had in its possession since the beginning of the investigation in March of 2011 the 1980 Canadian Forces Special Investigations Unit paperwork and the July 1980 courts martial transcripts, both of which heavily implicated the babysitter as it was his abuse of young children on the base that brought him to the attention of the base military police.

When the CFNIS submitted their brief to the Alberta Crown in October of 1980 they forgot to tell the crown about the dysfunctional household I was living in, the fact that the babysitter was investigated for molesting children in 1980, and that the babysitter was receiving psychological counselling for his attraction to young children. The CFNIS also forgot to mention to the Alberta Crown that I had tried to report the babysitter twice before to the military police but that the military police took no action.

More alarming is that the CFNIS submitted to the Alberta Crown an absolute fabrication. And no doubt that the Department of Justice has latched on to this fabrication. The fabrication? On May 3rd, 2011 I was contacted by Mcpl Christian Cyr of the CFNIS. Cyr tried and tried and tried to get me to believe that the babysitter was only 12 or 13 years old in the spring of 1980. The babysitter was born on June 20th, 1965.

More damning than that was the fact that Cyr literally dropped a bombshell on me. He asked me point blank if I remembered anything about the base chaplain having been charged with molesting children during the time that I was accusing the babysitter of abusing me and he implied that maybe I was confusing things insinuating that maybe I was making this story up for easy money.

When I regained my composure I told Cyr about the 5 visits to the chapel in which the babysitter escorted me over. I told him I remembered the activities we’d do in the living quarters, and that the visits always ended with me being given a “sickly sweet grape juice”.

I would learn later that the CFNIS would imply to other victims that I was a “societal malcontent with an axe to grind against the Canadian Armed Forces” and that I couldn’t hold jobs and that I frequently bounced around in my employment.

When I made my application to Federal Court in 2013 and I was given a copy of the certified tribunal records I was gob smacked to discover that “Cyr” had made an entry into the Security and Military Police Information System database (SAMPIS) that indicated that I remembered various visits in which the babysitter escorted me over to the base chapel “but that nothing sexual ever occurred”. “Cyr” removed any mention of an intoxicating substance as the CFSIU investigation paperwork and the courts martial transcripts would indicate that McRae was known to be giving the children alcohol. I use “Cyr” in this instance in quotes because at the time in 2011 the SAMPIS database had one massively horrific flaw. Superiors could make any edits to any entry that existed in SAMPIS. Sure, SAMPIS would log who made the changes, but SAMPIS would not retain the previous version of the edited item, nor would SAMPIS log the changes made.

In the modern day the Canadian Forces National Investigation Service and the Department of Justice will strive to portray me as an out of control lunatic just looking for quick bucks. The rational for this opinion will be the findings of the 2012 and 2018 MPCC reviews of the 2011 and 2015 investigations. The Department of Justice will go out of its way to downplay the fact that the Canadian Forces Provost Marshal determines what evidence will and will not be presented to the Military Police Complaints Commission and that the MPCC cannot subpoena documents from the CFNIS nor the MPCC.

The Canadian Armed Forces, with the assistance of the Department of Justice are very adept at keeping the truth hidden from the outside world.

I still like to think that in 2019 the Military Police Complaints Commission realized just how fucking badly the Canadian Forces Provost Marshal lied to MPCC . I think this is why the MPCC went out of their way to verify that the CFNIS knew the truth about the babysitter and the extent of Captain McRae’s abuse of children on the base.

Harjit Sajjan was more than happy to fight me to deny me access to the 1980 records. Sajjan only relented once the MPCC confirmed that the CFNIS and the Provost Marshal both knew about the truth from 1980 and actively hid the truth from me and from the Alberta Crown prosecutor.

And no, this shit hasn’t changed to this day. The Canadian Forces Provost Marshal is still actively denying and hiding documents from the Military Police Complaints Commission.

And the really aggravating matter is the fact that the Department of Justice actually wants to rely on the 1980 CFSIU investigation paperwork, the 2011 CFNIS investigation, and the 2015 CFNIS investigation to determine who was a victim and who wasn’t.

In 1980 it was Colonel Daniel Edward Munro, the base commander of Canadian Forces Base Namao that would determine to not call the RCMP in to deal with the babysitter and would not allow charges to proceed that involved children under the age of 14 so that the military could retain jurisdiction for this matter.

Remember, under the pre-1998 NDA Summary Investigation Flaw, it was the commanding officer of the accused that determined which charges their subordinate would face and which charges would be dropped. The provincial crown prosecutor would only become involved AFTER the commanding officer approved the charges and then allowed them to flow into the civilian justice system.

Both the 2011 and 2015 investigations had the 1980 CFSIU investigation paperwork and the 1980 courts martial transcripts in their possession. The 2011 CFNIS investigation ignored my social service records, and various information that I sent to the CFNIS related to the visits to the chapel.

So yeah, this is why I’m fucking tired.

And no, there is no recovering from this.

My father is long dead, he’ll never apologize for the living hell that he subjected my brother and I to in the silence of the military housing on base.

My brother will never get to hear anyone from the Canadian Armed Forces apologize, and my brother will never see that I wasn’t lying about what the babysitter did and that I didn’t “let” or “allow” the babysitter to do what he did.

Daniel Edward Munro will never explain why he did what he did.

The DOJ will go to bat for the babysitter in their portrayal of him as an innocent little angel.

The DOJ will never apologize for learning the entire truth about Captain McRae and his teenage accomplice in 2014 but instead using the absurd and byzantine laws crafted by the Government of Canada that allow agencies like the Canadian Forces to hide and bury the truth.

And no one from the Canadian Forces National Investigation Service will ever have to apologize for lying to me, lying to others about me, lying to the RCMP about me, and making false accusations against me.

Yep, I’m tired.

Shit that I can do.

Here’s one of my problems. And this problem irks me to no end.

I’m too stupid to be smart, and I’m too smart to be stupid.

In case you think differently, where you end up in life is wholly determined by where you start off in life. Anybody who tells you any different isn’t living in reality.

Anyone who grew up in a dysfunctional family and I mean a really dysfunctional family should be lucky to find basic stable employment.

If you didn’t grow up on military bases in Canada where dysfunctional families were shielded from civilian social services by the military’s wall of secrecy you have nothing to say on this matter.

How dysfunctional was my family? My alcoholic rage prone father brought his own alcoholic rage prone mother into the military housing on base to raise my brother and I as his physical abuse, mental abuse, and drinking was too much for our mother to handle.

My father tried to blame my mental health issues on his own mother. He told Alberta Social Services that my difficulties came from his “authoritarian mother, who was an alcoholic, and who was extremely cruel to his children”.

My issues at the time were not caused by my grandmother, nor my piss tank alcoholic father.

No, my severe depression and my major anxiety were caused by the two years of sexual abuse on Canadian Forces Base Namao.

The “counselling” that I received from Canadian Armed Forces social worker Captain Terry Totzke absolutely amplified and made my issues much worse, considering that my father, due to the chain of command, was expected to not question Captain Totzke’s treatment methods, such as blaming the sexual abuse I endured on CFB Namao as a result of some sort of “homosexuality” that I had exhibited.

And also Totzke’s refusal to let me receive treatment for major depression and severe anxiety really didn’t help the situation much either.

As I mentioned elsewhere, my father was heavily into electronics and computers. So much so that he always had work benches in the basements of the different PMQs that we lived in. He also always had subscriptions to Popular Electronics, Radio Electronics, and occasionally Elektor Electronics. Plus he always had his CAF / DND educational literature laying around, as well as his DeVry course manuals laying around.

Seeing as how my father had very little interest in me as a kid, I thought that if I picked up an interest in electronics and computers, maybe Richard and I would get along as we’d have something in common.

Richard wasn’t the type of person to try to instil creativity or curiosity in a child.

In fact, Richard was so insecure that he was never going to let his stupid fucking kids eclipse him. The stupider Scott and I remained the smarter he would look in comparison.

Picking up electronics and computers was indeed beneficial, but not in the way that anyone thinks.

When people learn that I dropped out of school after grade 8, people always assume that it was because I was a troublemaker or a problem child. The truth is, between my father and my brother, things were becoming too violent and too unhinged in our house on Canadian Forces Base Downsview.

By 1987 my brother was starting to run with a gang of thugs. He had already been to group homes a few times after he’d been arrested for B&Es and car theft. He was only 13 years old, but he was already taller than my father. Richard wouldn’t dare hit Scott. And because Richard could no longer beat Scott he turned his attention to me for failing to raise my brother properly and for not looking out for my brother. Everything that Scott did was because I let the fucking babysitter touch him.

And no, my father never got over the fact that I had apparently “fucked with his military career” by being the cause of the posting from CFB Griesbach in Edmonton, AB to CFB Downsview in North York, ON.

Even though in reality I know that Richard never would have paid for trade school, or college, or university, I know that when I moved out of the house at 16 I pretty well wrote off ever obtaining a trade or a diploma.

Yes, I did get my grade 12 GED, but that doesn’t matter for much.

And yes, I’m a 4th class power engineer. But that doesn’t mean a lot on its own.

See, when it comes to most any job that I’ve ever had, I’m actually nothing special.

Weird.

Misfit.

Fag.

That’s how most of my employers would have referred to me.

I even had one manger refer to me as “Freddie Mercury” as he “knew” that I was gay. Kept making me promise him that I’d use protection when having sex with other men so that I wouldn’t get AIDs and die.

Many years later I would have one manager at work who refused to have anything to do with me, and when I mentioned this to the manger’s supervisor I was told that the other manager felt very uncomfortable around me because I was “too flamboyant”.

Yeah, when you come from a dysfunctional family and you’ve got no family safety net to fall back on, you just have to put up with this shit and keep going. Standing your ground and making a scene is for people that have backup plans.

I’m a loner. I like to be left alone. I don’t interact well with others. I have to fake smiles.

I’m perpetually late for work in the mornings because I really don’t want to get out of bed. I’m usually very disappointed in the morning when I wake up as that means that I didn’t pass away in my sleep.

I don’t have the slightest interest in sportsball, movies, movie actors, or bands. Yes, I like music, and yes I like watching movies now and again, but I’m not a “fan”.

The one thing that has always seen me through like an ace up my sleeve is my familiarity with electronics and computers, and my reading and comprehension abilities.

But the one thing that my skills have never been able to do is make me feel fulfilled or proud. They’re just shit that I can do.

So, what do my skills let me do? Wait, I can’t call them “skills” because I don’t have a diploma or a TQ or a Red Seal. I guess that I can call them hobbies.

This.

Below is a write up from my second round of testing.

(b) Breaker PDC- E3 delayed vital

Voltage data request from holding registers 41000 to 41007

TX 05 03 03 E7 00 08 F5 FB –

RX 05 03 10 02 54 02 53 02 – 50 01 64 01 55 01 5A 02

52 01 5C 09 72

TX 05 03 03 E7 00 08 F5 FB –

RX 05 03 10 02 54 02 53 02 – 50 01 64 01 55 01 5A 02

52 01 5C 09 72

Amperage Data request from holding registers 42200 to 42207

TX 05 03 08 97 00 08 F6 04 –

RX 05 03 10 02 2F 02 56 02 – 5A 80 00 03 17 03 17 03

02 80 00 7C D6

TX 05 03 08 97 00 08 F6 04 –

RX 05 03 10 02 2F 02 56 02 – 5A 80 00 03 17 03 17 03

02 80 00 7C D6

Using modbus slave software to listen to the output of the IP to RS-485 gateway I get this:

RX 05 03 2E EF 00 03 3C 92 –

This means that the system requested that device 05 (delayed vital breaker) send the contents of the holding register (03) 12015 (hex 2e ef) and three subsequent registers, 12015, 12016, 120170. The 3c 92 are the checksum value for the transmission.

My software masqueraded as device (05), with the contents of the holding registers (03), acknowledged that the request was valid (06) and sent the value of decimal 50 (00 32) to the system. The 0a 6b is the checksum for this transmission.

RX 05 03 2E EF 00 03 3C 92 –

TX 05 03 06 00 32 00 32 00 – 32 0A 6B

When my software transmits the value of 50 to the system, the system displays that it read the value of registers 12015 (hex 2e ef), 12016 (hex 2e f0), 12017 (hex 2e f1) as decimal 50 (hex 00 32).

RX 05 03 2E EF 00 03 3C 92 –

TX 05 03 06 00 7B 00 7B 00 – 7B C7 85

When I change the value of registers 12015 (hex 2e ef), 12016 (hex 2e f0), 12017 (hex 2e f1) to the decimal value of 123 (hex 00 7b) the display on the system changes to 123.

Now, please understand that I am not trying to claim to be some sort of genius or expert. I just read the manual for the system, I read a quick write-up on MODbus, I ordered in an off-the-shelf USB-to-MODbus converter, and I bought the software.

Believe me, I’m not trying to claim to be a “hacker” or a technician, or anything like that. I’m also not trying to pretend that I wrote the program, or designed the interface, or “cracked” the system.

I just followed the instructions. When things weren’t clear, or when I needed further information I went searching for it.

I often feel the need to make this clear and to make it understood that I am not trying to claim credit for anything. This is just the stupid shit that I do.

Now, before you ask why I don’t go get a diploma, or a certificate, or a TQ, realize that my depression, my anxiety, my ultra low self esteem, and my intense lack of self confidence have never been dealt with.

Pills, therapy, head shrinkers, magic crystals, tarot cards, and positive thoughts don’t do sweet fuck-all against untreated mental health issues.

And mental health issues can’t be dealt with so long as the Department of National Defence and the Canadian Armed Forces want to go out of their way to pretend that absolutely nothing occurred on Canadian Forces Base Namao from 1978 to 1980 and that I’m just a “societal malcontent with an axe to grind against the Canadian Armed Forces”.

The complete lack of concern for the mental health of its members.

In late August of 1985 my brother and I flew back from Edmonton after having spent the entire summer staying with our grandmother in Edmonton.

Upon our return to Canadian Forces Base Downsview in Ontario our father had to alert the base military police to our arrival back home.

The military police came to talk to my brother and I about a rage-out that our father had in the PMQ that had contributed a significant amount of damage to the PMQ and required 3 military police officers to bring him under control.

Richard’s rage-outs were nothing new, but during this one he had completely lost control and smashed out all of the ground floor windows and damaged a lot of the furniture.

Richard used to self medicate by getting himself pickled drunk. But since Sue moved in with us in the summer of 1980, she tried to get Richard to sober up.

Richard also had a thing for prescription pain meds. Beyond that I can’t say if he was ever into hard drugs or not. But yes, he was an alcoholic.

And by not self medicating, Richard’s physical rage and temper would often peak at boiling over.

The military police implored my brother and I to NOT call 9-1-1 but to instead call the base military police as the Toronto cops couldn’t just come on to the base.

The two military police officers told us that we shouldn’t call for help unless we got out of the PMQ first, and that we should be prepared to jump from the second story of the PMQ if we had to get away from Richard.

Looking back I now realize that the base military police didn’t want us calling 9-1-1 as the civilian police were duty bound to report domestic violence to civilian social services where as the military police and the Canadian Armed Forcesliked to keep things in house an out from under the noses of those nosey civilians.

The MPs gave my brother and I business cards with the direct phone number for the MPs so that we didn’t have to go through base switchboard.

I was going to go show one of my friends the business card and tell him how the military police promised me that they would protect me from Richard and his anger outbursts as the MPs had heard things from the neighbours about the way Richard treated my brother and I.

Bill Parker intercepted me as I walked across the common lawn that the PMQs surrounded.

Bob! Bob, come here, I need to talk to you.

Bill promised me that if my father ever got angry again that I could come stay with his family, just like my mother and I had done on Canadian Forces Base Shearwater. I would find out about the CFB Sheawater “Battered wives club” in the 2010’s.

I showed Bill the business card and told Bill that if the fucker ever hit me again that I’d call the military police and they’d come take care of Richard. Bill told me that I had to take it easy on my father, that I simply didn’t understand what my father had been through and how the Canadian Forces had abandoned him.

Bill went on to explain something about my father having sailed to England with the Sea Kings in 1969 and that there had been an explosion in the engine room on one of the ships and that my father lost three of his drinking buddies from when he had been in the Navy.

“Bob, I wish you knew your father before that. He was a completely different man. He would have been nice.”

Bill implored me to never ask my father about this, that I was supposed to keep this a secret and just understand and accept my father’s anger and temper.

August of 1985 was long before the advent of Netscape Navigator and Google.

I was in Sea Cadets at the time, so I devised a way in which I’d ask my father about this “engine room explosion” without asking him directly about it.

I came home one night after cadets and told him that as part of studying naval history in the Canadian Navy that I was supposed to write a report on ship explosions that would have occurred in 1969.

The blood drained from his face, his cigarette hung from his lower lip, and his fists clenched up. All he said was that if I ever asked him a question like that again that I wouldn’t have to worry about ship explosions because of my broken neck.

It was the early 2000’s when I discovered the HMCS Kootenay incident that occurred in October of 1969 when the ships from CFB Halifax and the Sea Kings from CFB Shearwater were returning from exercises to the UK. It wasn’t an engine that exploded. It was oil vapour in a high-speed gear box that ignited due to an overheated main bearing. 11 members of the navy died. The explosion had been swift and hot. It was so hot that it melted all of the aluminum ladders that lead out of the engine room / gear box room.

My father had been on the Kootenay in his navy days before unification gave him the opportunity to get out of the Navy and into the Air Force. His name won’t show up on any of the ship’s registers as he was with the Sea Kings in the Air Force and not the Navy.

When I met my mother, Marie, in 2013 she confirmed Richard’s involvement with the Kootenay incident saying that Richard became a different man in the days and weeks after. His drinking had increased, his violence increased, he started to exhibit a hair trigger temper.

When Richard was posted to CFB Summerside his temper and his drinking became even worse, hence why she tried to take my bother and I back to Nova Scotia to stay with our uncle Al, but why she ended up being ejected from the PMQ by the base military police.

I met a gentleman by the name of Chris Legerre in the summer of 2014 when I went to Halifax to see the city that I had been born in 42 years previously. Chris had been on the HMCS Kootenay on the day of the gearbox explosion.

Yep, the Canadian Armed Forces literally and figuratively fucked everyone over that had been involved in the incident. A complete lack of compassion. No mental health treatment, nada, zip, zilch. Drug use became rampant amongst the survivors. Families of the deceased were booted out of the military housing with absolutely no compassion shown to the kids.

And you’d think that things would have changed in the last 55 years, but you’d be sadly fucking mistaken.

The Canadian Armed Forces and the Department of National Defence don’t give one sliver of a flying fuck about the mental health of the members of the Canadian Forces . And from my personal experience the Canadian Armed Forces care even less about the family members of mentally ill service members that have to experience the untreated mental illness of the serving member.

See, in my day of living on the bases in Canada military dependents were of absolutely no concern to the Canadian Armed Forces and the Department of National Defence. We were referred to as D.F.&E., Dependents, furniture, and effects. It took lobbying by the Ombudsman to get the Canadian Armed Forces to change this and to stop lumping dependents in as the personal belonging of the serving member.

But that really didn’t change things.

David Pugliese of the Ottawa Citizen posted a link to a story by Morgan Lowrie of National News Watch that was about two member of the Canadian Armed Forces that committed suicide. They were brothers. Both had served in Afghanistan. The article talks about how the Canadian Armed Forces are going to give the mother of the two soldiers a silver star. The article however mentions nothing about the spouses of the deceased members, nor the children of the deceased members.

https://nationalnewswatch.com/2024/11/01/new-brunswick-woman-who-lost-two-sons-to-ptsd-named-national-silver-cross-mother

Children of service members that die in action or die as a result of committing suicide due to mental stress endured during service should automatically receive guaranteed scholarships to college or university or support through trade school.

Spouses should receive compensation up until the retirement age of the service member.

The Canadian Armed Forces asks a lot from its service members, and by extension it asks a lot from the families of the service members.

It should then have to look after the families of service members, and stop treating military dependents like an afterthought.

A little trip.

Just on my way to the island for a quick little weekend trip.

I haven’t been to the island since back in the early aughts.

Just wanted to get out of the city for the weekend.

Decided to try out the new Hullo ferry service. Well, it’s not really new, it’s been operating since last year.

Normally getting to the island is a royal pain in the ass. Nothing wrong with BC Ferries, but those ferries are dedicated to car culture. And the ferry terminals are only really accessible via highways meant for cars. The whole experience from BC Ferries isn’t that great for someone who just wants to take a quick trip to the island.

One can take the bus to the ferry terminal, but still you can tell that the terminals and the ferries are geared towards drivers.

Hullo on the other hand operates from Downtown Vancouver to Downtown Nanaimo. And the fares aren’t that expensive either.

Just wanted to get out of the city for the weekend.

Spending way too much time at work. I’m currently filling two positions at work. My position as chief engineer, and the assistant chief engineer’s position as well. So much overtime. Probably way too much overtime.

So far my YTD is $112,000.00. And I have two months to go in this year.

I don’t mind working all this time. Work is all that I’ve done my entire life.

I started working way back in 1982. By 1987 I was on my own and working full-time. I think work is what has distracted me all these years. Kept me from realizing just how fucked up my childhood had been and just how much of a basket case I was.

Work has always been a double edged sword though.

I work at levels well above what my formal education and my mental health should allow me to work at. You’d think that this is great, but it causes a lot of conflict. See, as a 4th class power engineer I’m just supposed to rubber stamp what contractors want to do. I’m not supposed to have valid opinions about building automation. I’m sure as hell not supposed to be able to build BACnet networks and add them in and make them function.

But I do.

And it makes me realize just how badly I got fucked all those years ago.

The independence of the military police.

Just thought that I would make a post about the imaginary independence of the Canadian Forces Military Police and the Canadian Forces National Investigation Service from the Chain of Command.

The base MPs and the CFNIS along with its predecessor, the CFSIU, have never been free of the chain of command. The investigators with these agencies are at all times soldiers first and police officers second. These soldiers, just as all other soldiers, are bound by the National Defence Act to obey the lawful commands of their superiors.

And yes, there is a difference between legal and lawful. Member of the Canadian Armed Forces generally don’t have the time and the ability to consult with a legal officer to determine if a lawful command is in fact a legal command.

And this poses a massive problem for persons such as myself who have actions against the Department of National Defence and the Canadian Armed Forces for abuse and neglect that we endured at the hands of members of the Canadian Armed Forces.

In the spring of 1980 the military police commenced an investigation of my babysitter due to the numerous complaints of inappropriate sexual touching of other children living on the base. The investigation quickly exposed the fact that Canadian Armed Forces officer Captain Father Angus McRae was running a child sexual abuse ring on the base.

There were three boys involved with escorting children over to the living quarters attached to the chapel. One of these boys was my babysitter.

You would think that the military police would have wanted to string Captain McRae up with as many charges possible. But that’s not the way that the military justice system worked then.

In May of 1980, after the base military police investigated the babysitter for molesting children, base security officer Captain David Pilling instructed CFSIU Acting Section Commander Warrant Officer Fredrick R. Cunningham to investigate Captain Father Angus McRae for having committed acts of “homosexuality” with young boys on the base. The use of the term “acts of homosexuality” indicated that the Canadian Armed Forces already viewed McRae’s victims not as victims, but as homosexuals participating in homosexual activities.

Now, this is where things become very bad for the victims of Captain McRae that were under the age of 14.

The Canadian Armed Forces could only prosecute for the crimes of Gross Indecency, Indecent Assault, and Buggery so long as consent was a possibility. This fact was raised in the Court Martial Appeal Court finding of Regina vs. Corporal Donald Joseph Sullivan which was held in 1985.

Captain McRae’s commanding officer was Colonel Daniel Edward Munro, the base commander of Canadian Forces Base Namao. In 2017 as a result of me asking a CFNIS investigator if they could talk with retired Brigadier General Daniel Edward Munro to find out what transpired of CFB Namao in 1980 the office of the JAG replied that due to the 3-year-time-bar that existed in 1980, no charges could ever be brought against Munro so the CFNIS declined to talk to him.

In 1980 it would have been the commanding officer of the accused that would have decided what type of investigation McRae would be subjected to and how in-depth the investigation would be.

Colonel Daniel Edward Munro along with his chain of command would have known that the Captain McRae couldn’t be subjected to a courts martial for any crime committed against a child under the age of 14. Munro and his superiors would have known that to prosecute McRae for abusing any child under the age of 14 the Morinville RCMP would have had to be called in. And this would mean that McRae would be prosecuted in the civilian justice system where the military would not have been able to place a “veil of secrecy” around the whole affair.

This is why it was either Colonel Daniel Edward Munro or his superiors that wouldn’t allow the Base MPs to contact the Morinville RCMP to deal with the babysitter. They weren’t trying to protect the babysitter. They were trying to keep this whole mess from getting out into the public eye. Once the RCMP started investigating the babysitter, and once the babysitter mentioned the other boys and that they were bringing children as young as 4 over to the chapel the military would have lost control of the whole matter

Once the CFSIU completed its investigation of Captain McRae for sexually abusing children, the charges weren’t referred to the Alberta Crown Prosecutor for review. McRae was being charged with sections of the Criminal Code of Canada that were enumerated into the National Defence Act as Service Offences. Service offences were not in the purview of the provincial crowns. The charges were instead reviewed by the commanding officer of the accused. Which again in this case was Colonel Daniel Edward Munro, the base commander of Canadian Forces Base Namao.

An interesting thing about Colonel Daniel Edward Munro is that EVERY member of the regular force and the reserves located on Canadian Forces Base Namao was Munro’s subordinate. There is no requirement for an officer with the Chain of Command to follow the command structure when issuing commands to subordinate.

At work, if a manager from a department makes an unrealistic request of me or my subordinates, I can ask that manager to address my department manager. And I have the union to back me up on that. In the Canadian Forces you don’t have that ability.

In the Canadian Forces, if you don’t do as your superiors tell you to, you run the risk of being charged with insubordination. Basically you do as you’re told and you can only ignore the order you were given if someone else superior to you instructs you to ignore that order.

Members of the Canadian Forces subject to orders from and decisions by Colonel Munro included, but were not limited to:

my father
the father of the babysitter
the serving parents of the other two boys suspected of bringing kids to McRae
the serving parents of the other abused children
the investigators within the CFSIU
the investigators within the Base MPs
military social workers like Captain Lynda Tyrell and Captain Terry Totzke.

Once the Chain of Command decided that the Captain Father Angus McRae matter was going to be dealt with through the military justice system, that was it. This is not to be questioned.

When I talked to Claude Adams of Global News in 2014 about the Captain McRae sex scandal from CFB Namao, Claude assured me that if he was in the Canadian Forces and if the military didn’t want to charge McRae with abusing his children that he’d just go marching down to the city police and lay charges himself.

That’s not how this works. If Claude did that, that would have been an immediate courts martial.

Yes, the ignorance by the Canadian public of how the military works is quite alarming.

Why would the Canadian Armed Forces go through all of this just to keep the McRae matter out of the media? Wouldn’t this have shown the Canadian Public that the Canadian Armed Forces does not tolerate child sexual abuse under any circumstance?

No. That’s not the way the Canadian Forces operated, especially not during the Cold War. The Canadian Armed Forces, much like many other “western” militaries had waged a war against homosexuality as it was seen as a weakness that the Soviets could exploit via entrapment and blackmail to recruit spies.

During the period of the Captain McRae child abuse sex scandal the Government of Canada employed the “fruit machine” to weed out homosexuals. The Canadian Forces had CFAO 19-20.

So imagine the military’s reluctance to prosecute Canadian Armed Forces OFFICER Captain Father Angus McRae for sexually abusing over 25 children on Canadian Forces Base Namao in direct view of the Base MP detachment.

Imagine if the Canadian public had discovered via a public trial that McRae had inappropriate sexual relations with children on other Canadian Forces Base and Canadian Forces Stations that Captain McRae had been moved to by the Canadian Armed Forces.

Can you imagine Colonel Daniel Edward Munro’s fear of having his command ability called into question as it was his Base MPs that failed to detect Munro’s direct subordinate molesting the children of enlisted personnel on the base that Munro was ultimately responsible for the security of?

To top it off, Captain McRae had been investigated at the Royal Military College at Canadian Forces Base Kingston for “Acts of homosexuality” in 1974. It’s not like CFB Kingston and CFB Namao are separate entities. They’re both Canadian Forces Bases under the same command chain and policed by the same police force. So it’s not like anyone in the chain of command on CFB Namao could plead ignorance to Captain McRae’s previous investigation for “acts of homosexuality” in 1974?

Why wasn’t McRae tossed out of the military in 1974? Was it because the military police or the CFSIU couldn’t find enough evidence? No. It doesn’t matter what the Base MPs or the CFSIU found. McRae’s commanding officer would have had the ultimate authority to dismiss the charges that had been brought against Captain McRae.

Even in 2011, the CFNIS had the 1980 CFSIU paperwork and the 1980 courts martial transcripts in their hand, but there was no way that the Canadian Armed Forces were going to allow charges to be brought against the babysitter.

Why?

Angus McRae didn’t die until May 20th, 2011. 3-1/2 months after the start of the investigation. And this posed a massive problem for the CFNIS.

While the CFNIS would have been free to bring charges against the babysitter, the CFNIS would never have been able to charge Angus McRae for ANY service offence that he had committed while subjected to the Code of Service Discipline.

Two flaws that existed in the National Defence Act prior to December of 1998 ensure that child molesters who abused children on Canadian Armed Forces bases in Canada ensure that these abusers nor their victims will ever receive justice.

See, even though the flaws were removed, there was no legislation enacted that retroactively allowed the crown prosecutor to become involved with reviewing charges laid by the base military police or the CFSIU prior to the commanding officer of the accused conducting their Summary Investigation as required under the National Defence Act.

In 1980, after the laying of charges by the military police or the CFSIU, all charges were required to be reviewed by the commanding officer of the accused. This included not only charges of a purely military nature, but ALL criminal code charges enumerated into the National Defence Act. The commanding officer had the full authority to dismiss any and all charges, including criminal code offences.

When Bill C-25 passed in 1998 the 3-year-time-bar flaw and the summary investigation flaw were removed, but there was no language added that allowed the base military police or the CFSIU / CFNIS to bypass the language that existed prior to 1998 and to refer service offence charges to a provincial prosecutor. More alarmingly, there was no language added to either the National Defence Act or the Criminal Code of Canada that nullified the 3-year-time-bar prior to 1998.

Why is this important?

Well without a police investigation showing evidence that I was molested directly by Captain McRae it is being hinted that I have no legal claim against the Canadian Armed Forces and the Department of National Defence. But don’t forget, the investigations being relied upon are investigations conducted by the police of the agency that I am claiming compensation from.

In it’s 10 year report to Parliament that was published in 2010, the Military Police Complaints Commission that allowing the military police and the CFNIS to investigate matters that may subject the DND and the CAF to civil actions is inappropriate as indicated by decisions by the Supreme Court of Canada.

These decisions are why police forces in Canada generally will not investigate matters that could be expected to lead to civil actions against the city they work for. This is why when there is a police shooting in Canada or an allegation of police brutality police from another jurisdiction are brought in to investigate. This is also why when civilian employees of a city are suspected of wrongdoing other police agencies are usually brought in to at least review and offer oversight of the investigation.

As the Military Police Complaints Commission pointed out in 2011, the Supreme Court of Canada has decided that when a peace officer is conducting a criminal investigation, that peace officer is to answer to no-one except to the law itself. This is an outright impossibility in the Canadian Armed Forces. Every member of the Canadian Armed Forces is at ALL times subjected to the Code of Service Discipline. There are no exceptions for the base military police, the CFNIS, nor the Provost Marshal.

In fact things are far worse for the base military police and the CFNIS as the National Defence Act allows the Vice Chief of Defence Staff to offer instructions and orders to any MP or CFNIS investigation. As indicated by the Military Police Complaints Commission the Vice Chief of Defence Staff is NOT a peace officer and has no law enforcement training.

Another oddity with the structure of the military police is that the head of the military police, the Canadian Forces Provost Marshal, directly reports to the Vice Chief of Defence Staff.

Currently the Vice Chief of Defence Staff is a Lieutenant General. The Provost Marshal is a Brigadier General.

Breasts and death

My hormone related changes are well under way.

And I still really want to die.

And I don’t think that there’s anything wrong with that.

Death won’t be an option until 2027, and there’s still no indication if M.A.i.D. will be legalized for mental illnesses or not, but I am still hoping to be “allowed” to die.

Isn’t that the funniest of things?

I’m not allowed to die, but I also didn’t choose to exist.

My mother and my father got drunk one night. An exchange of DNA occurred. And 9 months later I popped out into the world.

Through my early life all sorts of people with their own agendas were making decisions about my life based upon their own ideas and interests.

And here I am at 52, burnt out and tired, and unable to make a decision about my life.

But Bobbie, I thought that if you transitioned that you would be happy and that you’d want to live?

Fuck no.

With an official delay in M.A.i.D. until 2027 I thought that I would avail myself to fixing the one thing that I had always wanted to correct all of my life but was unable to due to circumstances beyond my control.

Transitioning in and of itself is not the cure for my desire to die.

My desire to die comes from my rancid childhood.

Growing up on Canadian Armed Forces military bases was hard enough under the best of circumstances.

Growing up on Canadian Armed Forces military bases as a sexually abused male was an absolute fucking nightmare.

Growing up on Canadian Armed Forces military bases as a sexually abused gender non-conforming male during the days of CFAO 19-20 was a fucking soul destroying experience.

Growing up on Canadian Armed Forces military bases in a dysfunctional family in the era when the military’s policy towards members with mental issues meant that the military just outright ignored these issues meant that there were none of the normal experiences that children require to grow up mentally healthy. In fact my father’s alcoholism and his out-of-control and unacknowledged PTSD meant that the experiences that I grew up with caused a shit ton of mental issues that have plagued me for my entire life.

How bad have these issues affected me?

Here’s some moulds made of my teeth by my dentist in a last ditch attempt to save what’s left of my teeth.

Yeah, I’ve worn my teeth down to absolutely nothing.

That’s ’cause I wake up in terror some nights grinding my teeth away.

I’ve had night guards before, but I usually grind through them in a few weeks.

So Bobbie, if you still want to die, why are you transitioning?

I’ve never identified with being a male at any point in my life.

And this has nothing to do with the babysitter, Captain McRae, Captain Totzke, or Master Corporal Gill.

I’ve never identified as a boy. I always thought that I was a girl.

Around age 10 or 11 I remember hoping and praying that I would wake up the next morning with breasts and all the rest.

And everyday that I didn’t wake up with the much hoped for changes, I was devastated.

And was I ever jealous.

The girls at school were starting to fill out, and I wasn’t.

So, I intend to spend the next three years-or-so getting some of the changes that I’ve always wanted.

I’m not going for bottom surgery. I’ll get some items removed, but I’m not going for vaginoplasty.

And for the topside, I’ll be happy with what the hormones give me. I’m not going the augmentation route.

Body wise? Yeah, I’m already enjoying the muscle loss. It’s hard to explain, but I’ve always felt that my body is smaller than what it actually is. By losing muscle mass I’m hoping to finally get my body muscle structure down to what feels more natural. I’m already getting some of the fat redistribution, but the full effect won’t be for another year or so.

The goal of this all will be that when I finally go to sleep and escape this fucked up existence, that I present as close to a female as I can.

Never wanted to be a male.

Never identified as a male.

I don’t want to die as a male.

But, in the meantime I’m going to keep on with the hormones and the changes.

The Canadian Armed Forces had an extensive amount of say over my childhood.

I will not allow Canadian Armed Forces to say single fucking thing about my remaining days or my death.

The day the media cried……

For the most part the media in Canada is finished.

Very lax CRTC rules, very biased free trade agreements, and extremely toothless foreign ownerships rules means that our media for the most part is American owned and always has a pro-corporate, pro-capitalism, anti-worker bias, and anti-socialist policies at play.

It doesn’t matter if the newsroom or the head office has a Canadian street address. If the board of directors and the majority of shareholders are Americans, then the product that they produce is American propaganda.

We don’t have to worry about the Americans launching an invasion to take over Canada, the invasion has been going on since the Mulroney years in the ’80s, some might even say that the invasion started with Dief – the – Thief’s policy of overt American appeasement.

This morning when I logged into the cesspool formerly known as Twitter I caught this tweet from Lynda Steele.

This would be depressing, except Lynda is one of those in the news media that practically ensured the death of local media.

When Lynda was with 980 CKNW her pro-automobile industry / anti-alternative transportation biases were on full display. But I guess that she was just playing to her audience. The only place I’ve ever seen people listen to AM radio is in the car. But Lynda should have realized that the days of AM radio are coming to an end. Even FM radio isn’t far behind.

I stopped listening to radio back in the early ’00s when Rock 101 was blitzing the airwaves with that Spence Shriek commercial.

MP3 players made portable music that much easier to obtain and they totally negated my need for a radio. More importantly I never had to listen to that insistent Spence Shriek or annoying crap like it again.

People in general don’t like biases in their news, and people are fairly decent at detecting biases.

During the Covid-19 lockdown, the previous park board and city council agreed to install a bicycle lane in Stanley Park that would separate the bicycle riders from the pedestrians on the seawall thus allowing the pedestrians on the seawall to distance themselves by spreading across the walking path and the bicycle path and allowing the bicycle riders to continue using the park.

Now, I don’t think we’ll ever know the truth about what happened at CKNW, but to hear Lynda describe it lycra clad MAMILs were dragging the disabled out of their vehicles and euthanizing them at the main entrance to the park. The elderly were no longer able to drive to the park. Traffic in the park was now forced to drive at the posted speed limit. Car drivers were now forced to sit behind the horse drawn carriage tours and left to contemplate the meaningless existence of being a horse pulling tourists around and around in a loop.

In reality, there were only three groups of people upset at the bicycle lanes.

Car drivers using the park to avoid north bound traffic jams on the Stanley Park causeway. Car drivers using the park to avoid the downtown core by rat racing through the park to get to Beach Ave thus avoiding West Georgia, Burrard, and Howe.

And the most important group of all, the tour bus operators. There is a metric shit ton of money made in fares and tips from tourists that come to town on the cruise ships and want to go see “World Famous Stanley Park”. And no doubt there is some form of benefit to the tour bus operators when they deliver fresh cattle to the two “major” tourist attractions in the park.

The bicycle lanes made it impossible for tour busses to fit back in to the park. Because park drive was meant to meander through the park it has some tight bends. With the concrete barriers running through the park it would have been impossible for a full size tour bus to navigate.

Under an outrage that was practically stoked by the media Vancouver got a populist mayor elected with support from just over 18% of eligible voters.

The first thing Qatari Ken did when elected was to jump on an airplane to go watch a soccer game in Qatar. Hence why I call him Qatari Ken.

Ken’s plan was to rip out all of the bicycle lanes in the park to allow the “disabled and elderly” park users to get back into the park. Ken got as far as tearing out the lanes expect for the eastern Beach Avenue exit. The problem that Lynda and Qatari Ken didn’t account for was the public uproar that resulted from the removal of the bicycle lanes in the park.

It never was about the “elderly and disabled”. If it were then Qatari Ken and Lynda would have been pressing for a “community shuttle bus” that would stop at all of the hospitals, senior homes, assisted living homes, and other care facilities in order to give ALL disabled persons and elderly persons the ability to visit the park, especially those without families or those without the means to travel.

No, what it was all about was Qatari Ken riding a wave of populism in to the Mayor’s office to ensure that the interests of a select few business owners were looked after.

Both Lynda and Qatari Ken had been buoyed in their anti-bicycle / anti-alternate transportation biases because of the dynamics of the echo chamber. Lynda’s audience was only car drivers basically. So when Jim-Bob-Joe called in from Abbotsford to say that he’s never coming back to Stanley Park because the City of Vancouver has gone woke with bicycles, that’s what she heard.

The truth is there’s far more daily traffic from bicycle riders and roller bladers in the park than there is from actual park using car drivers.

But, I digress.

My beef with the media comes from the fact that not one single local news media outlet has dare look into historical child sexual abuse on bases that used to be located within city limits.

Does Lynda believe that no children were ever sexually abused on Canadian Forces Base Jericho in Vancouver during the days when both the 3-year-time-bar and the Summary Investigation flaw were in effect?

After report after report of the failure of the military justice system looking into sexual abuse of adults, isn’t Lynda and the rest of her cohorts curious in the slightest about the sexual abuse of children living on the same bases?

Isn’t Lynda, as a reporter, curious about the fact that children who lived on Canadian Forces Bases prior to 1998 don’t have the same rights that their civilian counterparts had?

When West End MP Hedy Fry said that she was not going to look into the matter of child sexual abuse on the Canadian Armed Forces bases in Canada because there were no bases in the West End even though I had lived in the West End since 1992, isn’t this “local news”? Isn’t it news worthy when a sitting MP says that a person can only get justice for military child sexual abuse if they live in a riding with a military base?

Is Canadian Forces Base Jericho not “local”?

Yes, fine, I get it. Lynda had no control over what stories she was allowed to cover and report on when she was at CKNW. CKNW survives on automobile advertising and its listenership is comprised of people stuck in cars. Therefore bicycles are a commie plot to steal your freedomobile away from you and force you to ride a bicycle.

Reporting on a story that would cause the Department of National Defence and the Canadian Armed Forces a severe amount of negative publicity is something that corporate would have frowned upon as many of the owners are well connected and don’t want to be seen as pissing on the troops.

In the end, with the exception of just a few persons in the media, if the average “journalist” wants a paycheque they have to conduct the reporting that corporate dictates. But these “journalists” shouldn’t be surprised in the end when being a corporate puppet just means that the profession that they were a part of becomes a relic of the past.

And so far the “alternative media” is no better than the corporate media.

Back to Vancouver

Okay, so I’m about to fly back to Vancouver in about 1-1/2 hours.

I don’t ever want to hear anyone ever say that being a base brat was a “fun time” in their life.

This shit sucks, it honestly does.

We meant absofuckinglutely nothing to the Canadian Armed Forces when we were kids. And once we turned 18 and aged off the bases, we meant even fucking less.

We got exposed to the spousal abuse in the PMQs

We got exposed to the alcoholism in the PMQs

We got exposed to the hidden, covered-up, and totally ignored mental illnesses of our fathers.

We got fucked seven ways from Sunday my the military “justice system”, that same justice system that was an outright abysmal failure for the adults but was somehow supposed to be working for the kids and non-serving spouses on base.

There have been studies conducted over the years looking at spousal abuse in military families.

To the best of my knowledge, there has never been a study that has ever looked at the long term effects of being a military dependent.

How many former military dependents have ended up homeless?

How many former military dependents have ended up dead with needles in their arms?

How many military dependents committed suicide on base or committed suicide later in life due to their issues they inherited on base.

“bUt BoBbIe, MiLiTaRy DePeNdAnTs WeReN’t In ThE CaNaDiAn FoRcEs”

The
” We Had A Normal Childhood on Base”
Brigade.

The
“But it happens in the civilian world too”
Asshole

You assholes that wanna simp for the Canadian Armed Forces actually believe that our fathers left the toxic bullshit at the hangar or the garage, or the drill hall?

You wanna believe that the Canadian Armed Forces wasn’t turning a willing blind eye to the rampant alcoholism and drug abuse in the military?

Half of the Canadian Airborne Regiment on Griesbach was doing fucking coke.

Most of the guys at 447 Sqn were drinking on the job when servicing the Chinooks.

You wanna believe that the Canadian Armed Forces didn’t pull out all of the stops to “wash the laundry” in house and keep it from being exposed to the civilian world?

In 1985, after my father trashed the PMQ on CFB Downsview, the military police didn’t plead with my brother and I to call the base MPs instead of the civilian police because they cared. They just wanted to keep the civilian police and civilian social services from getting involved with the “military’s business”.

Our fathers got treated like heroes after they retired. Even if they had never seen combat and spent the majority of their career flying a fucking office desk.

Military dependents aren’t even on the radar of veterans affairs.

Bones ‘n’ Ashes

I guess it’s a good thing that Richard is long since dead and gone.

If he knew what I did to Scott, he’d kill me.

I could just hear Richard now “You goddamn little fucking cocksucker, look at what you did to Scott! You think he’d be dead right now if you fucking looked after him like you’re supposed to?”

That’s basically the same spiel I got from him during one of our “counselling sessions” in Captain Totzke’s office over by base HQ on CFB Griesbach when I was around 9 or 10.

That’s also the same speech that I got when Scott stole Sue’s Pontiac Acadian when we lived on Canadian Forces Base Downsview in Ontario.

So yeah, it’s a good thing that Richard is dead.

I don’t expect to hear anything from Sue.

She was married to my father, we were just the baggage from the previous marriage that Richard just had to keep in order to keep the costs under control.

Our mother? Not too sure where she is. The last time I saw her she was literally just waiting to die out of boredom. She lost at the game of life, her life was destroyed by Richard, and she was just existing until the mercy of death would take her away.

I had always thought that my father was most like Heathcliff from Wuthering Heights, except unlike how the reader was exposed to what drove Heathcliff to destroy everyone around him, no one, not even I, knows what set Richard on the path to destroy everyone around him, including his own sons.

When I say that we were a dysfunctional family, we were.

The fact that my brother is dead doesn’t really bother me, just reinforces for me that dying at home alone really fucks up the flooring. Hopefully I get to apply for M.A.i.D. in 2027.

What does bother me about my brother’s death is no one will connect the dots between his life as a military dependent and the fact that he ended up dead on the floor of his apartment for about a week.

What also bother’s me is that Scott won’t ever get an apology from the Canadian Armed Forces or the Minister of National Defence, and that the Department of Justice is probably cackling with glee at the prospect of one less admission of liability.

But Scott’s death does illustrate for me that his death doesn’t really matter.

Bill collectors just want his money.

Service providers just want his money.

Nobody else gives a flying fuck.

His phone is ringing off the hook with creditors and such, but not one single person has texted him to say “hey, what’s up, why aren’t you answering your phone”

I’m so emotionally damaged that his death doesn’t bother me. Not ’cause I hated or despised him, but Captain Father Angus McRae, P.S., Master Corporal Richard Gill, and Captain Terry Totzke beat all of the fucking emotions out of me before I could even develop proper emotions as a kid.

And I can’t honestly be the only former military dependent that can’t feel or express emotions, this was something that was drilled into your heads on these bases back in the ’60s, ’70s, ’80s, and probably even still today. Emotions are for the weak, crying is for sissies, admission of mental health issues show that you’re weak.

Going back through emails and texts I can see Scott’s life unravelling.

I’m prepared for years of battle with the fucking military and their lawyers at the DOJ. I knew the Department of Justice really didn’t give a flying fuck when I went to Federal Court back in 2013 to try to get the 2012 findings of the Military Police Complaints Commission overturned. The fact that the Canadian Forces Provost Marshal withheld all manners of evidence from the MPCC in 2012 didn’t matter one fucking iota with those assholes. All they were concerned about was protecting the CFPM, the CFNIS, the CAF, and the DND from scrutiny.

The DOJ fought and fought and fought against compensating the babysitter for the abuse he endured at the hands of Captain McRae even though Captain McRae was only ever charged by Colonel Daniel Edward Munro with the crimes McRae committed against P.S.. Munro sunk all of the other charges, as was his right under the pre-1998 National Defence Act.

So, I’m prepared for the long haul with the DND, the CAF, and the DOJ.

But Scott, since about last summer, seemed increasingly anxious about getting a settlement from the class action.

At first I thought that it was just Scott making plans for a new car or something of the such.

No, it was probably his drug habit that seemed to have started to bloom back around 2015 – 2016.

I missed the comments about drugs this and drugs that and trying this and trying that.

I don’t know what he did prior to 2019, but it looks like he tried to cross into the states on his visa, but the visa was then stamped “WD in lieu of NTA”. So something happened.

I don’t blame him for unraveling.

I’m not going to chastise him for drugs.

I know what he went through.

I lived what he went through.

I want to end my life as badly as he did, if not more so.

But I just want my death listed as being due to M.A.i.D. which was administered to alleviate mental trauma and major depression which was directly linked to CFB Namao and the Canadian Armed Forces.

Maybe Richard was right, maybe I should have looked after him better.