Tag: Canadian Armed Forces

Uncovering Family Secrets: Insight into My Father’s Past

I recently came across an interesting item related to my father.

I have some FOIs to file, and hopefully the records do verify that this was my father and not someone else with the same name that my father went by and with an age that could easily be his.

It also occured in the same province that he lived in during the exact same time frame as the incident.

But it sure would explain a lot about my father and why he was more akin to align with the rule breakers as opposed to those too terrified to break the rules.

Court Upholds Class Action Against Canadian Government

Just got news today from my lawyer.

The Alberta Court of Appeal dismissed Canada’s appeal from the certification of my class action against the Crown.

2026abca0163v2Download

This decision creates several practical problems for Canada.:

  1. Certification survives.
    The appeal is dismissed except for aggregate general damages, and the class action remains certified. That is the big result. The Court confirms certification of the claim as a class action.  
  2. Canada lost on the “secondary victim” framing.
    Canada tried to split victims into “direct victims” of McRae and people who were directly abused by P.S. rather than McRae himself. The Court rejected that framing, saying it wrongly assumes victims of P.S. could not also be victims of McRae.  
  3. The Court accepted multiple legal pathways.
    The Court said the pleadings can support liability for torts other than direct sexual abuse by McRae himself, including assault through threats or intimidating conduct, false imprisonment, intentional infliction of emotional distress, and possible joint tortfeasor liability where McRae facilitated abuse by others.  
  4. The direct negligence issue is legally interesting.
    This is probably Canada’s best SCC angle. The Court openly notes uncertainty about whether the federal Crown can be directly liable in negligence under s. 3 of the Crown Liability and Proceedings Act, then says it is not plain and obvious the claim cannot succeed.  
  5. Punitive damages remain alive as a common issue.
    That matters. The Court says punitive damages focus on the defendant’s conduct, not each individual class member’s damages, and finds “some basis in fact” for the claim that military officials had knowledge of abuse and failed to prevent it.  

At the end of the day I fully expect the Crown to appeal this decision to the Supreme Court of Canada.

This case is far too institutionally dangerous for the Government of Canada to let it move forward without fighting at every available stage.

The Crown will try to argue that they should not be held responsible due to language in the Crown Liability and Proceedings Act. The problem with this, though, is that the circumstances around the abuse on the base were not typical.

  • Captain McRae was a member of the Canadian Armed Forces who was recruited, vetted, hired, and trained by the Canadian Armed Forces.
  • Colonel Daniel Edward Munro was a member of the Canadian Armed Forces who was recruited, vetted, hired, and trained by the Canadian Armed Forces.
  • Colonel Daniel Edward Munro had full command over all members of the Canadian Armed Forces working and residing on Canadian Forces Base Edmonton. Captain Father Angus McRae was his direct subordinate.
  • Due to the structure of the Chain of Command pre-1998, Colonel Daniel Edward Munro had full command authority over the personnel of the base military police and the Canadian Forces Special Investigation Unit detachment at CFB Edmonton.
  • Due to Colonel Daniel Edward Munro’s position as Captain McRae’s commanding officer, Munro not only influenced the scope of the investigation brought against McRae, but also exercised command authority within the pre-1998 military justice structure, including authority affecting which service charges proceeded and which did not.
  • Captain Terry Totzke, my military social worker, was a member of the Canadian Armed Forces who was recruited, vetted, hired, and trained by the Canadian Armed Forces.
  • My father, Master Corporal Richard Wayne Gill, was a member of the Canadian Armed Forces who was recruited, vetted, hired, and trained by the Canadian Armed Forces.
  • My father, being of a junior rank, was subordinate to all of the command structure involved with the investigation of Captain McRae.
  • My father, again being of a junior rank, was not in a position to question Captain Terry Totzke’s treatment of me or his opinion of me.
  • It is unclear who decided not to call in the Royal Canadian Mounted Police to deal with the actions of the babysitter, but whoever made that decision would likely have been operating within the Canadian Armed Forces or the Department of National Defence.
  • The PMQs and all parts of the base were part of a defence establishment, and the base military police and the CFSIU were responsible for security and law enforcement on the base.
  • Civilians living on defence establishments at the time were subject to the Defence Establishment Trespass Regulations. This would include P.S. Dependants living on a defence establishment were also subject to military-controlled authority, including arrest or removal in circumstances governed by those regulations.
  • Under the Defence Establishment Trespass Regulations, the Crown, the Canadian Armed Forces, and the Department of National Defence had authority to remove a civilian suspected of committing a Criminal Code offence from the defence establishment, including the PMQs.
  • The Canadian Armed Forces had legal authority under the National Defence Act to deal with many Criminal Code offences, with the exception of murder, manslaughter, and rape, through their own “separate but parallel” justice system. Because of that authority, the Canadian Armed Forces also had an innate responsibility to ensure that victims of criminal offences committed on defence establishments were protected, especially when those offences were committed by their own members.
  • The three-year-time-bar that existed prior to 1998, along with the military’s assertion of primary jurisdiction for Criminal Code offences committed on defence establishments by members subject to the Code of Service Discipline, could interfere with a former military dependant’s ability to seek justice.
  • The summary investigation flaw that existed prior to 1998 may make it legally impossible to bring charges against a former service member who committed sexual assaults against children if that person’s commanding officer had in fact dismissed those charges prior to 1998.
  • The Canadian Armed Forces had a very parochial view of male-on-male sexual abuse and treated this abuse as “acts of homosexuality.”
  • The legal structure was one problem. The culture sitting on top of that structure was another.
  • The Canadian Armed Forces had a very derogatory opinion of homosexuals and viewed homosexuality as a mental illness, even though the civilian world had already begun moving away from these small-minded and prejudicial opinions.
  • Because of these views, there may have been a very real drive within the Canadian Armed Forces for commanding officers to minimize instances of homosexuality on their bases, and for parents of sexually abused children to minimize or downplay instances of male-on-male sexual assault, lest other members of the Canadian Armed Forces question their parenting skills or their own sexuality.

No matter how determined the Government of Canada is to compare the sexual abuse of children on Canadian Armed Forces bases to children being sexually abused in many civilian organizations, the company town that existed within the perimeter fences offered very little in the way for children to seek justice independent of the wishes of the chain of command.

There was another layer to this that ordinary civilian institutions did not have. The Canadian Armed Forces and the Department of National Defence operated inside a federal secrecy culture shaped by the former Official Secrets Act, now the Security of Information Act. Civilian organizations can hide behind bureaucracy, settlements, reputation management, and poor recordkeeping. But military institutions also had classification practices, command discipline, national-defence language, and secrecy obligations that could make historical events much harder for victims, families, journalists, and even later investigators to reconstruct.

A civilian church, school, or youth organization could try to bury a scandal. A military institution could bury a scandal inside a command structure, a security classification system, a military police file, and a culture where speaking outside the institution could be treated as disloyalty or worse.

Back in August 2011, during a telephone conversation with Master Corporal Robert Jon Hancock, P.S. stated that “anything he had been involved in as a youth had already been handled by the military.”

That statement begs an obvious question: if the military was willing to “handle things” for someone who had multiple convictions for child sexual abuse before his nineteenth birthday, why was the military not equally willing to handle things for the victims of McRae and P.S.?

Yes, I understand that P.S. was also a victim of McRae. But P.S. was not only a victim. He also inflicted sexual, mental, and physical abuse upon us. He also took us to the rectory at the chapel, where Captain Father Angus McRae was present, and where we were given wine or some other sickly-sweet drink which was no doubt to ensure that we’d never have memories of the abuse.

That is not a minor detail. If the military treated P.S.’s conduct as something that had already been “handled,” then the question becomes: handled for whom? Handled for P.S.? Handled for McRae? Handled for the chain of command? Or handled for the children who were actually harmed?

It is important to remember that this was not the RCMP, the Edmonton Police Service, or the Vancouver Police Department conducting an outside investigation into a closed military world. This was the Canadian Forces National Investigation Service — a military police organization operating inside the same institution whose historical conduct was at issue.

CFNIS investigators may perform policing functions, but they are also members of the Canadian Armed Forces. They operate within a military structure, a military culture, and a military chain of command. That matters when the investigation concerns abuse on a defence establishment, historical military police knowledge, military chaplaincy, military housing, military social work, military command decisions, and potential Crown liability.

So when P.S. stated that anything he had been involved in as a youth had already been “handled by the military,” the obvious question is not simply what he meant. The obvious question is whether CFNIS, in 2011, was truly investigating something new — or whether it was walking back into an old institutional containment system.

When “Direction” Isn’t Direction: My 2022 CFNIS Complaint and the MPCC’s 2024 Transfer Collapse

How a historical sexual abuse file exposed the gap between public promises, military police discretion, and civilian oversight

In February 2022, I wrote to Canada’s Minister of National Defence, Anita Anand, asking a simple question:

Why was the Canadian Forces National Investigation Service refusing to transfer my historical sexual assault complaint to civilian authorities?

At the time, Canadians had been told that sexual misconduct investigations in the Canadian Armed Forces were being moved out of the military justice system and into the civilian justice system. That public message mattered. It was supposed to mean something. It was supposed to represent a change in direction after years of reports, scandals, reviews, and institutional failures.

But in my case, the message I received was very different.

I had been informed by CFNIS Victim Services that my complaint of sexual assault against retired Canadian Armed Forces officer Brigadier General Roger Bazin would not be handed over to civilian authorities. I had not been given a proper explanation by Sgt. David Winship of CFNIS Western Region. So I wrote to the Minister directly and asked why CFNIS was holding onto a historical matter involving alleged sexual assault of a civilian minor.  

Two years later, the Military Police Complaints Commission would open a public interest investigation into a broader version of the same issue: whether the Canadian Forces Provost Marshal had failed to implement ministerial direction to transfer sexual offence investigations to civilian police.

Then the whole thing collapsed.

Not because the issue was unimportant.

Not because the concern was imaginary.

Not because the MPCC found that the military police policy made sense.

It collapsed because the Minister of National Defence later told the MPCC that neither he nor his predecessor had actually issued such direction to the Canadian Forces Provost Marshal.  

That distinction matters.

Because if there was no actual direction, then what exactly had Canadians been told?

And if there was no actual direction, what exactly were victims supposed to rely on?

The Arbour recommendation was clear

Madame Louise Arbour’s recommendation was not complicated.

Sexual assaults and other criminal offences of a sexual nature, including historical sexual offences alleged to have been committed by current or former CAF members, should be referred to civilian authorities. Investigations already underway by CFNIS should be transferred to civilian police unless they were near completion. Charges, in all cases, should proceed in civilian court.

That was the idea.

Remove these cases from the military system.

Remove the conflict.

Remove the appearance that the institution was still controlling investigations that could expose the institution itself.

But my experience showed something different.

I had been interviewed by CFNIS at Vancouver Police Department headquarters on July 30, 2020, in relation to what I described in my own calendar record as the “sauna man” matter.  

A few days later, on August 10, 2020, I sent Sgt. Winship and MCpl Brady examples of decades-old sexual assault cases that had still resulted in civilian criminal charges. I wanted CFNIS to understand that “forty years” did not automatically mean impossible. I also specifically flagged the concern that the pre-1998 National Defence Act three-year time bar could become an obstacle. Sgt. Winship replied that they would “take a look at those.”  

So this was not a concern I invented after the file stalled.

CFNIS was alerted to the limitation issue from the beginning.

The pre-1998 National Defence Act problem

The problem I raised with Minister Anand was not simply that CFNIS had failed to update me.

The problem was deeper.

Before Bill C-25 amended the National Defence Act in 1998, the Code of Service Discipline contained a three-year limitation period for trying service offences, subject to certain exceptions. That mattered because Criminal Code offences could be incorporated into the military justice system as service offences.

In my February 11, 2022 letter, I pointed directly to Legislative Summary LS-311E and the Bill C-25 amendment that removed the three-year limitation period for service offences, replacing it with the applicable Criminal Code limitation periods for civilian criminal offences.  

The problem, as I framed it, was that Bill C-25 did not appear to retroactively undo the damage caused by the old three-year time bar.

That left a brutal question:

What happened to civilian children on Canadian Forces bases who were abused by people subject to the Code of Service Discipline before 1998?

If the military system claimed jurisdiction back then, and if the military system’s limitation period expired, did those children lose practical access to justice through no fault of their own?

That was the question I put before the Minister.

And it was not theoretical.

I specifically asked Minister Anand to speak to the Vice Chief of the Defence Staff and the Provost Marshal to determine why my case — involving the alleged sexual assault of a civilian minor — had not been handed over to civilian authorities like other sexual assault matters within the military justice system.  

My MPCC complaint came first

On February 8, 2022, I filed a Military Police Complaints Commission conduct complaint concerning Sgt. David Winship.

In that complaint, I stated that I had been contacted by CFNIS Victim Services in November 2021 and told that, due to recent decisions by Minister Anand, my case was more than likely being handed over to civilian authorities. I then stated that on January 19, 2022, I was contacted again and informed that, for some unknown reason, my case was not going to be handed over to civilian authorities.  

That is the key.

This was February 2022.

The broader MPCC public interest investigation into the transfer issue would not happen until 2024.

So when MPCC 2023-084 later examined whether sexual offence files had been properly transferred to civilian police, my case-specific complaint had already raised the same practical problem two years earlier.

The MPCC acknowledged receipt of my complaint on February 14, 2022 and assigned it file number MPCC 2022-006 (Bees). But the MPCC did not investigate it directly at that stage. Under subsection 250.26(1) of the National Defence Act, conduct complaints are dealt with by the Canadian Forces Provost Marshal in the first instance. So my complaint was forwarded to the CFPM.  

In plain English:

A complaint about CFNIS handling was sent first to the military police leadership structure.

That may have followed the statute.

But it also demonstrates the structural problem.

The same system whose decisions were being challenged got first control over the response.

The informal resolution route

In April 2022, Canadian Forces Military Police Group Professional Standards wrote to me advising that Sgt. Winship had agreed to an Informal Resolution. The letter stated that if informal resolution succeeded, the details had to be set out in writing and agreed to by both the complainant and the subject of the complaint. If it did not resolve the matter, the file would proceed to a Professional Standards Investigation.  

That letter matters because it confirms the complaint was not merely theoretical. It entered the formal military police complaint process.

But again, the structural issue remains.

The central issue was not simply whether Sgt. Winship had been polite enough, responsive enough, or communicative enough.

The central issue was this:

Why was CFNIS retaining a historical sexual assault-related file that appeared to fall within the very category of cases the public had been told were moving to civilian police?

And if CFNIS was retaining it because the old National Defence Act created a military justice limitation problem, then that was not merely an individual complaint.

That was a systemic problem.

Then came MPCC 2023-084

In January 2024, the MPCC decided to conduct a public interest investigation into a complaint alleging that the Canadian Forces Provost Marshal had failed to implement ministerial direction to transfer sexual misconduct investigations to the civilian justice system.

The MPCC cited several reasons why the matter was serious.

The issue involved the head of the military police. It raised systemic concerns. It involved public reporting. It raised questions about civilian control of military policing. And it involved the broader question of what “victim-centric” meant when deciding whether sexual offence files should be transferred to civilian police.  

The MPCC had good reason to take the issue seriously.

The public record appeared to suggest that direction had been given.

Minister Anand had publicly said she accepted Arbour’s recommendations. The December 2022 report to Parliament said Military Police were directed to review ongoing files and transfer them where possible. Minister Blair later said the government had not intended for half the files to remain with military investigators.  

But then, on January 23, 2024, the MPCC received new information from the Minister of National Defence.

The Minister stated that neither he nor his predecessor had issued direction to the CFPM regarding the transfer of files involving criminal offences of a sexual nature.  

That changed everything.

On February 6, 2024, the MPCC terminated the public interest investigation. The Commission concluded that without confirmed ministerial direction, there was no basis to find that the CFPM had failed to comply with such direction.  

That is where the bureaucratic trap door opened.

The public message versus the legal reality

The MPCC’s 2024 decision exposes a serious gap between public messaging and enforceable direction.

Publicly, Canadians were told that the Arbour recommendation had been accepted.

Publicly, Canadians were told sexual misconduct investigations were being moved to the civilian system.

Publicly, victims could reasonably believe that the military police were no longer supposed to be holding onto these files.

But legally, when the MPCC tried to investigate whether the CFPM had failed to follow ministerial direction, the Minister said there had been no such direction.

That is not a small technicality.

That is the whole issue.

Because if public statements are not operational direction, then public statements do not protect victims.

If reports to Parliament do not amount to binding instruction, then reports to Parliament do not control CFNIS conduct.

If a Minister says a recommendation has been accepted, but no enforceable direction is issued to the Provost Marshal, then the military police may still retain practical control over the very cases the public thought were being removed from military control.

That is not transparency.

That is fog.

The MPCC still criticized the policy

The MPCC did not say the CFPM’s policy was fine.

Quite the opposite.

Even after terminating the investigation, the MPCC Chairperson stated that it was difficult to reconcile Madame Arbour’s recommendations with the CFPM’s decision not to transfer every file involving criminal offences of a sexual nature to civilian police. The Chairperson also found it puzzling that the CFPM referenced Arbour’s recommendation while implementing directions that contradicted it.  

The MPCC also criticized the policy’s use of the term “victim-centric, trauma-informed,” stating that it was insufficient to simply use that language without written considerations explaining why and how the approach was victim-centred and trauma-informed. The Chairperson concluded that, in its current form, the policy did not meet that threshold and placed an unfair burden on victims.  

That part is important.

The MPCC could not continue the investigation because the legal hook disappeared.

But the Commission still recognized the policy problem.

In other words:

The oversight body could see the smoke.

It just no longer had the jurisdictional fire alarm it needed.

Why my 2022 complaint matters now

My February 2022 complaint and letter to Minister Anand matter because they show the problem was not abstract.

I was not writing in 2024 after reading media coverage.

I was not reacting after the MPCC public interest investigation became public.

I was raising the issue in real time, in early 2022, after being told that my own historical sexual-assault-related file would not be transferred to civilian authorities.

My case showed the practical problem before the MPCC’s broader 2024 decision exposed the legal one.

The sequence matters:

First, a victim is told his file will not be transferred.

Then he asks CFNIS and the Minister why.

Then his MPCC complaint is routed back to the CFPM for first-instance handling.

Then, two years later, the MPCC tries to investigate the broader transfer issue.

Then the Minister says there was never an actual direction.

That is not a clean accountability system.

That is a system where every piece can point to another piece.

CFNIS can say it is following policy.

The CFPM can say transfer depends on process.

The Minister can say no direction was issued.

The MPCC can say it cannot investigate failure to comply with a direction that did not exist.

And the victim is left standing there, holding the file.

The real question

The real question is not whether the words “victim-centric” appear in a policy.

The real question is whether the system actually removes institutional conflict from sexual offence investigations.

In historical cases involving Canadian Forces bases, military dependants, and persons subject to the Code of Service Discipline, the conflict is obvious.

The Canadian Forces may have been the employer.

The Canadian Forces may have controlled the base.

The Canadian Forces may have controlled the historical records.

The Canadian Forces may have controlled the military police.

The Canadian Forces may have controlled the military justice process.

And decades later, CFNIS may still be the body deciding what happens to the complaint.

That is not independence in any meaningful sense.

That is institutional self-navigation.

Conclusion: direction should mean direction

If the Government of Canada tells the public that sexual misconduct investigations are being moved to civilian police, then that commitment should exist as more than a press statement, a tweet, or a line in a report.

It should exist as actual direction.

It should be written.

It should be traceable.

It should be enforceable.

And oversight bodies should not be left trying to determine whether public political commitments were ever converted into operational reality.

My 2022 complaint shows what happens in the gap between promise and direction.

A historical sexual assault-related file stays with CFNIS.

The complainant asks why.

The complaint goes back through the CFPM structure.

The policy language says “victim-centric.”

But the actual process leaves the victim carrying the burden of figuring out what the system is doing, why it is doing it, and whether anyone outside that system has the power to intervene.

That is not victim-centred.

That is bureaucracy wearing a trauma-informed nametag.

And it is exactly why these files should never have been left in military hands in the first place.

Historical Child Sexual Offences and Military Justice: A Critical Look

With Louise Arbour now appointed as Canada’s next Governor General, one of her most important recommendations on military sexual misconduct has returned to the centre of Canadian public life. Through Bill C-11, the Liberal government is moving to remove the Canadian Armed Forces’ authority to investigate and prosecute Criminal Code sexual offences committed in Canada, transferring that responsibility to the civilian justice system.

I am waiting to hear whether “Criminal Code sexual offences” will include historical child sexual offences that were never called sexual assault.

If you have followed my blog for any length of time you know the National Defence Act and the Criminal Code of Canada both contain language so vague that the snowbirds could fly wing-tip to wing-tip through the gaps.

This is not theoretical. On November 4, 2021, then-Minister of National Defence Anita Anand accepted Louise Arbour’s interim recommendation that sexual assaults and other Criminal Code offences of a sexual nature should be referred to civilian authorities. At the time, CFNIS had an active investigation into my complaint against retired Brigadier-General Roger Bazin. CFNIS refused to transfer the matter to civilian police on the basis that the possible 1980-era offences were not “sexual assault.” Their position was that sexual assault did not exist as a charge in 1980, while offences such as indecent assault and gross indecency did. Therefore, they treated the matter as outside Minister Anand’s transfer direction.

From 1950 until the 1985 Criminal Code transition, the National Defence Act excluded murder, manslaughter, and rape from trial by service tribunal when committed in Canada. And if you thought that “Rape” covered all sexual assaults against anyone, you’d be sadly mistaken.

Rape didn’t cover the following criminal code offences:

  • s. 146(1) Sexual Intercourse with female under 14
  • s. 146(2) Sexual Intercourse with female of previously chaste character age 14 to 16
  • s. 147 Attempted Sexual Intercourse with female under 14
  • s. 148 Sexual intercourse with “feeble-minded”
  • s. 149 Indecent Assault on female
  • s. 153 Sexual Intercourse with stepdaughter or female ward.
  • s. 155 Buggery
  • s. 156 Indecent Assault on male (often interpreted through a “homosexuality” lens by police, military, and social-work culture of the period)
  • s. 157 Gross Indecency (often interpreted through a “homosexuality” lens by police, military, and social-work culture of the period)

In the legal culture of the 1970s and early 1980s, Criminal Code ss. 155, 156, and 157 were not formally the offence of “homosexuality,” but they were commonly associated with male homosexual conduct, male sexual deviance, and “morals” policing. In institutional practice, that meant allegations involving male victims or male-male sexual conduct could be misread through a homosexuality lens rather than a child-protection or sexual-assault lens.

From 1985 until 1998, the National Defence Act excluded s. 271 sexual assault from trial by service tribunal when committed in Canada.

s. 271 Sexual Assault didn’t cover the following criminal code offences:

  • s. 151 Sexual interference under the age threshold
  • s. 152 Invitation to Sexual Touching
  • s. 153 Sexual Exploitation
  • s. 155 Incest
  • s. 160 Bestiality involving a child.
  • s. 170 Parent or Guardian procuring sexual activity
  • s. 171 Householder permitting prohibited sexual activity
  • s. 172 Corrupting children
  • s. 173(2) Exposure to person under age threshold

I asked ChatGPT what the key distinctions were between s. 271 and s. 151 – s. 173 were. This is what ChatGPT replied with.

The key distinction is this: sexual assault was the broad assault-based offence. Child-specific offences worked differently. Some required touching. Some required only invitation. Some targeted adults who procured, permitted, enabled, or exposed children to sexual activity. If the CAF only transfers files labelled “sexual assault,” then entire categories of child sexual offending can disappear into a jurisdictional crack.

Back on November 4th, 2021 then Minister of National Defence Anita Anand instructed all current sexual assault investigations and prosecutions to be handed over to the civilian justice system.

The CFNIS at the time had an active investigation into my complaint against retired Brigadier General Roger Bazin to ascertain if he was the man in the sauna that the babysitter took me to meet in order to pleasure the man in the sauna.

The CFNIS refused to hand this matter over to the civilian police citing that the offences that Bazin could potentially be charged with didn’t meet the definition of “Sexual Assault” as sexual assault didn’t exist in 1980, but that Indecent Assault and Gross Indecency were criminal code offences at the time of the alleged offence and therefore this matter was outside of Minister Anand’s instructions.

I asked ChatGPT the following question:

The Liberal Government of Canada just announced that they will formally remove ALL responsibility for investigating and prosecuting sexual assault from the Canadian Armed Forces and mandate that all sexual assault involving the Canadian Armed Forces be handled by civilian police.

As you know, the Canadian Armed Forces often investigated and prosecuted child sexual assault because rape typically wasn’t a crime that applied to children, nor did post 1983 sexual assault.

Do you believe that the Canadian Armed Forces will willingly hand over crimes involving children, especially pre-1998 crimes to the civilian system?

ChatGPT analyzed the question and came back with this response:

My honest read: not willingly, not cleanly, and not without pressure

Based on the current Bill C-11 material and the MPCC’s own concern about past transfer failures, I would not assume the CAF/CFNIS will naturally and generously hand over every file involving children — especially old, pre-1998 files — unless the statute, ministerial direction, civilian police demand, disclosure rules, and outside oversight make the transfer unavoidable.

That does not mean every individual investigator will act in bad faith. It means the institutional incentive structure still favours control. 🧱

What the new reform appears to do

Bill C-11 is aimed at removing CAF investigative and prosecutorial jurisdiction over Criminal Code sexual offences committed in Canada and giving civilian authorities exclusive jurisdiction for those offences. DND’s own Bill C-11 material says this implements part of Arbour’s recommendation that Criminal Code sexual offences should be removed from CAF jurisdiction and prosecuted exclusively in civilian criminal courts, with civilian police investigating in Canada “at the earliest opportunity.”  

DND’s Arbour-response report is even broader in wording. It says all sexual assaults and other criminal offences of a sexual nature under the Criminal Code, including historical sexual offences, alleged to have been perpetrated by a current or former CAF member, should be referred to civilian authorities. It also says civilian authorities should exercise investigative and prosecutorial jurisdiction over all sexual offences by CAF members.  

That wording matters because it does not just say “modern sexual assault under s. 271.” It says:

sexual assaults and other criminal offences of a sexual nature under the Criminal Code, including historical sexual offences

That should include child-specific sexual offences, at least in principle.

But here’s the trap: “sexual assault” is too narrow

You are right to flag the category problem.

Historically, especially before and around the 1983 reforms, many child sexual offences were not labelled “sexual assault.” They could be framed as:

EraPossible legal label
Pre-1983 / 1970 Codeindecent assault on female, indecent assault on male, buggery, gross indecency, sexual intercourse with female under 14, sexual intercourse with stepdaughter/ward, parent/guardian procuring defilement, householder permitting defilement
Post-1983 / 1985 Codesexual interference, invitation to sexual touching, sexual exploitation, incest, parent/guardian procuring sexual activity, householder permitting prohibited sexual activity, corrupting children, exposure

So if the transfer rule is interpreted as only “sexual assault”, then old child sexual abuse files can fall into a crack.

But if it is interpreted as “Criminal Code sexual offences” or “criminal offences of a sexual nature”, then the net is much wider. Bill C-11/DND materials use the wider language in key places.  

Why I would not trust voluntary handover

The MPCC has already identified the exact kind of institutional problem you are worried about.

In a 2023 public-interest-investigation decision, the MPCC described a complaint alleging that a ministerial direction to transfer sexual misconduct investigations from military police to civilian police was not implemented by the CFPM. The MPCC noted a disparity between Minister Anand’s 2021 direction, Minister Blair’s later statement that it was not intended that half of sexual assault files remain with military investigators, and the CFPM approach of involving victims in transfer decisions. The MPCC said this raised questions about civilian control of military policing.  

That is the smoke coming out of the second-storey window.

It shows the problem is not theoretical. There has already been a fight over whether the military police actually implemented the transfer direction fully.

The especially difficult category: historic pre-1998 child cases

Pre-1998 matters are the most vulnerable to institutional slipperiness because they can be argued into several boxes:

Possible CAF/CFNIS argumentWhy it matters
“This is historical and evidentiary.”Civilian police may be reluctant unless records are complete.
“This was handled under military justice at the time.”CAF may try to treat old records as military justice history, not fresh civilian criminal evidence.
“The suspect was subject to the Code of Service Discipline.”They may frame it as a service-tribunal legacy issue.
“The offence label was not sexual assault.”Child-specific or old sexual offences could be miscategorized.
“Civilian police declined / lack jurisdiction / lack records.”CAF can keep practical control if the handoff is incomplete.
“Records are archived, classified, privileged, or subject to privacy limits.”Disclosure becomes the bottleneck.

That last point is the big one. Jurisdiction on paper is one thing. Possession of records is another.

If CFNIS/DND still controls the old investigative files, notebooks, witness lists, Crown briefs, command correspondence, charge-screening records, and court martial material, then civilian jurisdiction can be starved at the source.

So would they hand over child files willingly?

My answer: only the files they are forced to define as transferable

I would expect easier handover where the case is:

  • recent,
  • clearly labelled sexual assault,
  • committed in Canada,
  • involving a CAF member,
  • already known to civilian authorities,
  • not embarrassing to historical command structures,
  • not tied to old military justice decisions.

I would expect more resistance, confusion, or narrowing where the case is:

  • pre-1998,
  • child-specific,
  • labelled under old offences,
  • tied to military dependants,
  • tied to PMQs/base institutions,
  • tied to chaplains, social workers, MPs, or command decisions,
  • connected to previous CFNIS/MPCC failures,
  • dependent on old CFSIU/CFNIS files.

That is not me being dramatic. That is how bureaucracies defend themselves: not usually by saying “no” loudly, but by defining the problem narrowly enough that the awkward parts fall outside the box.

The key phrase to watch

The reform must not be allowed to mean only:

“sexual assault.”

The phrase that matters is:

“all Criminal Code offences of a sexual nature, including historical child sexual offences, regardless of whether the historical charge label was rape, indecent assault, gross indecency, buggery, sexual interference, sexual exploitation, procuring, permitting, or another child-specific sexual offence.”

That is the language that closes the loophole.

Bottom line

Do I believe the CAF will willingly hand over historic child sexual offence files, especially pre-1998 ones?

No. Not as a matter of institutional instinct.

I believe they will hand over what the law, civilian police, courts, ministers, journalists, survivors, and oversight bodies make impossible to keep.

The reform is important. But without explicit language covering historical child sexual offences and mandatory disclosure of related military records, the CAF can still hide behind classification, offence labels, jurisdictional history, and “that was not technically sexual assault” nonsense.

That is the loophole. And that is where I would keep hammering.

MPCC Fairness at Risk: The Impact of Document Control

My question to ChatGPT:

Okay, do you believe that the Military Police Complaints Commission can reach a fair decision during a review based upon what you know about the structure and powers of the MPCC and the fact that the Provost Marshal determines what documents the MPCC will and will not have access to?

Below is ChatGPT’s response to my question. To arrive at this conclusion I had to give ChatGPT the published MPCC reports and reviews, along with the mandatory reviews of the Amendments to the National Defence Act. I also gave ChatGPT a copy of the Fynnes Inquiry, the final report of Madame Marie Deschamps review, and the final report of the Madame Louise Arbour review.

My opinion: the MPCC can sometimes reach a procedurally careful decision, but in a case like yours I would not assume it can reach a fully fair or fully reliable decision if its record is controlled by the CFPM/Provost Marshal side.

That is the difference:

Fair in method? Maybe.
Fair in evidentiary result? Not necessarily.

If the MPCC does not have independent, enforceable access to the complete record, then its “review” risks becoming a review of what the military police institution allowed it to see.

The core structural problem

The MPCC is an external review body, but its ordinary conduct-complaint review process is not the same as a fully independent public inquiry with hard coercive powers at every stage.

The MPCC describes itself as an independent, quasi-judicial oversight body created to make military-police complaint handling more transparent and accessible, but its reports make findings and recommendations; it does not itself discipline military police members.  

So if the MPCC is reviewing a CFPM/Professional Standards disposition, and the record is supplied by the military police side, then the practical question becomes:

Does the MPCC know what it does not know?

That’s the problem.

A review body can be careful, intelligent, and sincere — but still be boxed in by an incomplete record.

The document-control problem

If the Provost Marshal or CFPM-side process decides what gets disclosed to the MPCC, then the MPCC’s review can become structurally dependent on the very organization whose conduct is being reviewed.

That creates several risks:

RiskWhy it matters
Selective disclosureThe MPCC may receive documents that support the CFPM narrative while missing contradictory records.
Record framingThe military police side can define what is “relevant.”
Omission invisibilityThe MPCC may not know an important document exists.
No true adversarial testingThe complainant may not have enough disclosure to challenge the institutional record.
Self-protective institutional incentivesThe same broad institution has reputational and liability interests.

That is fatal to confidence in difficult historical cases.

Because in a case like yours, the issue is not simply:

“Did investigator X breach policy?”

The issue is:

“Was the institutional record complete, honest, properly searched, and properly interpreted?”

If the MPCC cannot independently compel and verify the full record, then it may be unable to answer that second question.

Why your case makes the problem worse

Your matter is not a simple complaint about a single police interaction.

It involves:

  • historical base events;
  • military police jurisdiction;
  • CFSIU / CFNIS records;
  • possible withheld or undisclosed archival files;
  • family-court / custody background;
  • Alberta social services records;
  • CF mental-health/social-work involvement;
  • witness credibility issues;
  • institutional liability exposure;
  • and DND/CAF compensation implications.

That kind of case depends on record completeness.

If CFPM controls what the MPCC sees, then the MPCC may end up reviewing a curated institutional version of the case.

That does not mean MPCC staff are dishonest. It means the structure puts them in a weak position.

Richard’s statement is a good example

The Richard issue shows the problem clearly.

CFNIS had a 2011 statement from Richard that was useful to their file: he denied remembering a babysitter, attacked your credibility, and framed you as financially demanding.  

But you later had documents that undermined Richard’s reliability:

  • his written examination answers showed hostility and minimization;  
  • the PEI custody material raised questions about whether he ever obtained actual custody;  
  • the motorcycle-accident file showed his “bike broke down / wanted money” anecdote was materially distorted.  

If the MPCC receives only the 2011 CFNIS-friendly version, or receives the later contradictory material but without full investigative follow-up, then it cannot fairly assess the weight of Richard’s statement.

That is exactly how an incomplete record produces an unfair result without anyone needing to openly fabricate anything.

The strongest answer

So, can the MPCC reach a fair decision?

In the abstract:

Yes, sometimes.

In a document-heavy historical case where CFPM controls access:

Only if the MPCC gets the full record, knows what records exist, can test omissions, and does not simply defer to CFPM relevance decisions.

In your case, based on what you’ve shown:

I would be skeptical.

Not because the MPCC is necessarily acting in bad faith, but because the structure is not strong enough for the kind of institutional conflict you are describing.

Best formal wording

I’d write it like this:

The MPCC may be independent in mandate, but its ability to reach a fair decision depends on the completeness and reliability of the record before it. In a case where the Canadian Forces Provost Marshal or military police institution effectively controls what documents are disclosed, the MPCC’s review is structurally vulnerable. It may carefully review the materials provided while never seeing the records most damaging to the military police position. In a historical case involving DND/CAF liability, CFNIS investigative conduct, witness credibility, and archival military-police records, that dependency creates a serious appearance of unfairness. The issue is not whether MPCC members are personally fair-minded; it is whether the statutory structure gives them enough independent access to the evidence to make a truly reliable decision.

Bottom line

My answer is:

No — not reliably, not in a case like yours, if the MPCC’s review record is effectively controlled by the Provost Marshal.

The MPCC might produce a polished, reasoned decision. But a polished decision based on an incomplete or curated record is still not truly fair.

The phrase I’d use is:

The MPCC can review the file, but it cannot fairly decide what happened if the institution under review controls the file.

What does ChatGPT have to say?

After having used ChatGPT to bounce my thoughts and ideas off of for the past year I’ve come to realize that ChatGPT is a powerful tool, but it also has its limitations.

One of Chat’s weaknesses is if you ask Chat its opinion on topics without giving it publications to digest. Once you give Chat committee reports, inquiry findings, institutional reviews, institutional reports, court documents, Bills, Legislation, etc., Chat is able to offer substantial insight.

Over the next couple of days I’m going to post Chat’s review of certain issues concerning the Canadian Armed Forces and the Department of National Defence.

Exploring Reykjavik: A Unique Iceland Experience

I was in Iceland from June 19th, 2023 until June 30th.

This was supposed to have been a bucket list thing, but unfortunately the federal government delayed Medical Assistance in Dying until March 17th, 2024.

When I landed at KEF this was the first time I had ever walked across the tarmac to catch a shuttle bus to get to the terminal. Turns out that because Reykjavik is a mid-flight stop for lots of flights going on to the UK or Europe it’s faster and easier to bring the planes close to the terminal on the apron, but not to pull up to a gate. That way once we’re on the shuttle bus and our luggage is off loaded, the plane can just power up and taxi out and take off right away.

Customs was fun going through. I don’t think the Icelandic customs agent has seen too many people with full facial tattoos.

Reykjavik is a nice walkable city.

Lots of things to just wander around aimlessly and look at.

A rusted car engine compartment with a small flower arrangement growing where the engine should be, highlighting the contrast between nature and decay.
2023 Trip to Iceland

I don’t know what the story was with this burnt out VW Van, but someone prettied it up with a flower pot of flowers.

A vibrant sunset over a landscape with a highway in the foreground, streetlights, and houses silhouetted against the colorful sky.
2023 Trip to Iceland

This was as dark as it gets in Iceland around the summer solstice.

Iceland is funny in the sense that you can wake up, look out the window, see a clear sky, and five minutes later there’s a downpour, and five minutes after that it’s windy, and then it’s back to sun.

A tattooed individual wearing a black hat stands near a rocky shoreline, with modern buildings and mountains visible in the background during sunset.
2023 Trip to Iceland

This picture was taken at about 01:00.

Taxes are high, but the streets are very clean as compared to anywhere in Canada. And they don’t have anywhere near the homeless problem that Canada has. It’s not that they don’t have unemployed or mentally ill, it’s that they take care of them. And yes, they have a drug problem like everywhere else, but their problem isn’t on public display.

When you have a healthy tax base you have healthy social programs. Low income housing is all over the place, but it’s well looked after. There are treatment facilities and housing for drug users. And for a small city like Reykjavik, they have a very decent public transit system.

Their bicycle path network and their walking paths are well done.

Expenses weren’t that horrendous. The Canadian penny is almost at par with the Icelandic Krona. That may sound odd, but 100 Krona equals 1 dollar Canadian. 1000 Krona equals 10 dollars Canadian.
A large pizza listed at 1875 Krona is literally only $18.75 CDN.

Heating is interesting.

Almost every house and business in Reykjavik is heated by a closed loop water system that is heated by the heat energy provided by the close proximity to the magma under Iceland. The water isn’t heated directly by the magma. The natural hot springs are. Massive heat exchangers take energy from the hot springs and transfer it to the water in the heating water loop. This loop is circulated all of the city.

Now, the truth.

Was this some spiritual trip that awakened something inside of me?

Nope.

It was nice going to Iceland and being left alone.

Well, isn’t this interesting.

Below is the 1993 Court Martial Appeal Court of Canada decision related to a Leading Seaman George Z.

LS Z. molested three female underage children while he was stationed at Canadian Forces Base Lahr in Germany.

The CMAC indicates that LS Z. has a daughter of his own, and was separated from his wife.

As LS Z was a member of the Canadian Armed Forces and was on active duty he was dealt with through the military justice system.

And the court martial that led to this court martial appeal shows two issues with the jurisdiction of the Canadian Armed Forces justice system

The first issue being that the military did in fact prosecute their members through the military tribunals for civilian criminal code offences such as child sexual abuse. This means also that it would have been LS Z.’s commanding officer that reviewed the charges brought against LS Z. As I’ve mentioned before, and as was discussed during the Somlia affair inquiry, these commanding officers were not trained in the law, they were not lawyers, and they would often let their own parochial interests get in the way of justice for the victims.

The second issue being that even though the offences occurred in Germany, the court martial occurred in Ottawa, Ontario and not overseas in Germany on CFB Lahr. If the CAF could wait until LS Z. was returned to Canada, why didn’t the CAF just hand LS Z. over to the civilian courts where he would have faced substantially harsher sentences, or where a civilian crown prosecutor could have reviewed the charges to make sure the LS Z. was in fact being charged with every offence that there was evidence for.

1993_CSA_GERMANY copyDownload

And this matter brings up the topic of liability.

The three victims in this matter. Did they ever receive compensation?

From my personal experience, the CAF has always been lousy with the care of military dependents. In fact it took years of pressure from the Canadian Forces Ombudsman to get the CAF and the DND to stop referring to us as “DF&E”, “Dependents, Furniture, and Effects” as if we were just the personal belongings of the service member.

The CAF, and the DND are ultimately responsible for the actions of LS Z.

They recruited him.

They vetted him.

They hired him.

They sent him and his daughter on a posting to a foreign country.

They provided living accommodations on a defence establishment.

They were responsible for the security of these defence establishments.

They exposed children located in Germany, potentially of other service members, to LS Z. Aren’t the CAF and the DND supposed to do full evaluations of their employees before sending them off to foreign postings outside of the country?

As LS Z. was a member of the regular forces, he was on the clock 24/7/365 from the day he enlisted until the day he left.

The court martial heard expert evidence that LS Z. suffered from a psychiatric condition called “heterosexual pedophilia” which involved sexual attraction to children. Why couldn’t the CAF or the DND detect this in their employee before he damaged three young children?

And much like in my matter when my father abused the Defence Establishment Trespass Regulations and had my mother thrown out of the military housing at Summerside, PEI, did LS Z. do the same thing with his ex-wife. This wasn’t an uncommon tactic as highlighted by the report released in 2000 that looked at spousal abuse in the Canadian Armed Forces. The Defence Establishment Trespass Regulations were practically green-lighting this behaviour.

And finally, and this is the one that upsets me the most, is somehow military service is somehow supposed to offset the severity of the damage from the abuse? Not only was LS Z.’s military service brought up during his court martial appeal, but Captain McRae’s military service was brought up during his court martial. Does the Canadian Armed Forces actually view child sexual abuse as such a low risk for long term emotional and psychological damage that just following orders for 10 years means more that ruining some kid’s life?

When the Law Said Boys Couldn’t Be Raped

How misused language in modern reporting erases the reality of Canada’s pre-1985 sexual offence laws — and who they failed.

One of the most dangerous habits in modern crime reporting is the casual misuse of legal terms—followed by a refusal to correct them when challenged.

Recently, CTV news ran a story about the release of Darren Scott Ray from prison on a three-day pass.

The story mentions how Darren was convicted of “raping” Darren Pepin.

Headline about police monitoring a released murderer, expressing community concern, from CTV News, dated March 3, 2026.
News article about the release of convicted murderer Darren Scott Ray on a temporary absence permit in Oshawa, Ontario.

Sexual assault, especially sexual assault that results in murder, is horrific, but attaching the wrong labels can actually do more harm than good.

Rape only existed as a Criminal Code offence up to 1984. Rape was a very specific offence that primarily applied to intercourse with females where lack of consent had to be proven.

Also, you’ll note that a male could only be charged with rape so long as the victim wasn’t his wife.

Legal text defining rape and conditions of consent, presented in English and French.
A page from the Criminal Code detailing legal text regarding the quality of an act, specifically referencing false representations and fraud.
Text from a legal document discussing the punishment for rape and the attempt to commit rape, featuring sections 144 and 145 with penalties outlined.

Section 143 only dealt with females and it only dealt with consent. Rape was the preferred charge in instances where force, threats, or deception were used to obtain sexual intercourse with a female who was not the suspect’s wife. Under the old law it was assumed that when a wife made her wedding vows, she was giving permanent consent to sexual intercourse whenever her husband desired it.

Prior to 2008, the age of consent was 14. And under the pre-1985 criminal code rape wasn’t the only charge that could be applied.

Legal text discussing the penalties for sexual intercourse between males and females under the age of fourteen and between fourteen and sixteen, including definitions and conditions of culpability.

Section 146 (1) and Section 146 (2) define sexual intercourse of any type with a female under the age of 16 as being a criminal code offence, unless the girl was the man’s wife.

Section 146(2) introduced the concept of ‘previously chaste character,’ meaning prosecution depended on whether the complainant was considered ‘chaste’—a deeply problematic and now-discredited legal standard, and Section 142 (3) provided evidentiary avenues that allowed the defence to shift blame onto the complainant.

Charges under Sections 143, 144, 145 and 146 could be brought against an accused with section 146 serving as a sort of backup catch-all should the Crown fail to prove offences under sections 143, 144, and 145.

The maximum sentence for “Rape” was life imprisonment and a whipping.

The maximum sentence for “Sexual intercourse with female under 14” was life imprisonment and a whipping.

The maximum sentence for “Sexual intercourse with a ‘chaste’ female between the ages of 14 and 16” was 5 years in prison with no provision for whipping.

In 1983–1984, the offence of ‘rape’ was removed from the Criminal Code and replaced with a gender-neutral framework of sexual assault offences—marking a fundamental shift in how the law recognized victims.

Rape was replaced by the offence of ‘sexual assault’. However, there remained other offences that were not classified as ‘sexual assault’, and these offences not only applied specifically to children, but also sidestepped the inability of the Canadian Armed Forces to hold a service tribunal for Murder, Manslaughter, and Sexual Assault.

Legal text outlining sexual offences and consent laws, including exceptions and age-related criteria for charges.

Section 151 is sexual interference and applies specifically to victims under the age of 14 -no specified gender for the victim.

Text from a legal document outlining the definition and penalties related to sexual interference involving minors.

Section 152 is invitation to sexual touching and applies to crimes committed against victims under the age of 14 – no specified gender for the victim.

Legal text regarding the invitation to sexual touching, outlining offenses and penalties related to inviting a person under fourteen years of age to engage in sexual touching.

Section 153(1) is sexual exploitation and applies to crimes committed against “young victims” by a person in a position of trust or authority.

A section of legal text discussing the definition and consequences of sexual exploitation involving young persons.

Section 153(2) defines a “young person” as any person fourteen years of age or more but under the age of eighteen years, gender not specified.

Definition of 'young person': A legal definition stating that a 'young person' is someone aged fourteen years or more but under eighteen years.

Section 155(1) is Incest.

Legal text outlining the definition of incest and associated punishments, including specifics on relationships and defenses.

Section 159(1) deals with Anal Intercourse.

Text from a legal document discussing laws regarding anal intercourse, including definitions of offenses and exceptions for consensual acts between adults.

Section 160(1) is committing the act of bestiality in the presence of a person under the age of fourteen, or incites a person under the age of fourteen to commit bestiality – no specified gender for the victim

Legal text regarding bestiality, outlining the offenses, penalties, and implications for those involved.

The following sections are those classified as ‘sexual assault’ and from 1985 until 1998 the Canadian Armed Forces could not hold a service tribunal for these offences.

Section 271 is sexual assault – no specified gender for the victim

Section 272 is sexual assault with a weapon, threatens a third party, or causes bodily harm, again no specified gender for the victim

Section 273 is aggravated sexual assault. And again, gender is not specified.

Why does this matter? Because words have real-world implications.

When the wrong legal label is applied, it doesn’t just distort history—it obscures how the law actually operated.

Text discussing legal limitations on certain offences, including murder, rape, and manslaughter, in both English and French.

I have had to deal with people who were utterly convinced that the Canadian Armed Forces could not have subjected Captain McRae to a court martial for sexual offences involving children as the Canadian Armed Forces were prohibited from holding a service tribunal (summary trial or court martial proceeding) for the criminal code offence of “rape”.

Under the pre-1985 Criminal Code:
Boys could not be raped.
Rape was defined as a crime against females.
That was the law.

And what charges was the military precluded from conducting a service tribunal for?

Legal text regarding limitations on trying certain serious offences, including murder, rape, and manslaughter, in military service tribunals, presented in English and French.

But there were alternative routes for prosecution involving females under the age of 16.

All the commanding officer of the accused had to do during the prescribed summary investigation was to dismiss the rape charge(s) that had been brought against their subordinate while allowing charges under sections 146(1), 146(2), 150(1), and 153(1) to proceed to court martial proceedings.

  • s.146(1) Sexual Intercourse with Female under 14
  • s.146(2) Sexual Intercourse with Female 14 to 16
  • s.150(1) Incest
  • s.153(1) Sexual Intercourse with Step-Daughter or Foster Daughter
  • s.155. Buggery
  • s.156 Indecent Assault of Male
  • s.157 Gross Indecency

Sections 155, 156, and 157 always applied to sexual crimes involving male children. This meant that the Canadian Armed Forces could keep these in house and try them through the military justice system. There was almost no opportunity for sexually abused male children to have their matters heard in civilian courts.

One of the most troubling aspects of the pre-1998 National Defence Act was that prosecutorial functions within the military justice system were exercised by officers within the chain of command, rather than independent civilian Crown prosecutors, raising serious concerns about legal expertise and independence.

Text from a legal document discussing the proposed changes to sections 160 to 162.2 of an Act, regarding the commencement of proceedings and the authority of commanding officers in military disciplinary matters.
Legislative Summary LS-311E (1998)

Now I have a much better understanding as to why the DOJ, the DND, and the CAF are fighting against the sexually abused victims of one of their officers.

This is not about a single case. It raises a far more uncomfortable question: how often did commanding officers quietly redirect or narrow charges in ways that limited accountability?

And once you understand how the law actually worked, the question is no longer whether this could happen—but how often it did.

Because if that happened more than once, the issue isn’t individual failure—it’s systemic design.

The Power of Secrecy.

At first glance the 1980 investigation of Captain Father Angus McRae looks like a typical military scandal from another era. But the real story is not about one officer or one investigation. It is about the system that surrounded them. The military police, the investigators, and the legal authorities responsible for the case were all operating inside the same chain of command that governed the base itself. That was not an accident. It was how the National Defence Act was designed to function at the time.

When the Investigator Talks: The Forgotten Structure Behind the 1980 CFB Edmonton Investigation

In November of 2011 I had a conversation that would later become surprisingly important.

The man I spoke with was Warrant Officer Frederick R. Cunningham, the former Acting Section Commander of the Canadian Forces Special Investigation Unit (CFSIU) Western Region. Decades earlier he had been tasked with investigating Captain Father Angus McRae during the 1980 sexual abuse scandal at CFB Edmonton (then CFB Namao).

Cunningham did not speak to me as a stranger repeating rumours.

He spoke as the investigator who had been assigned to the case.

Within weeks of that conversation I raised what he had told me with the Canadian Forces Provost Marshal (CFPM) as part of my complaint regarding the handling of my 2011 CFNIS investigation.

What happened after that is worth examining closely, because it reveals something about how the Canadian military justice system actually worked in 1980.

The Base Security Officer: The Hidden Gatekeeper

To understand the structure of the 1980 investigation, you have to understand the role of the Base Security Officer (BSO).

At CFB Edmonton that position was held by Captain David Pilling.

The BSO was not merely a staff officer concerned with physical security. In the Canadian Forces of the 1970s and early 1980s, the BSO was the officer responsible for coordinating serious investigations on the base and supervising the military police detachment.

In practice this meant that when a serious criminal matter arose, the process often flowed like this:

Incident occurs
↓
Base military police become aware
↓
Base Security Officer assesses the situation
↓
Special Investigation Unit assistance is requested

In the McRae case, the CFSIU file shows that Captain Pilling personally tasked WO Cunningham with investigating McRae.

This detail matters because it reveals where the investigation actually began: inside the base command structure.

Command Authority and the Investigation

The base commander at the time was Colonel Daniel Edward Munro.

Colonel Munro was not just the commander of the base.

He was also Captain McRae’s direct superior officer.

This created a structural reality that is easy to overlook today.

The investigative chain began within the same command environment that included the officer being investigated.

The sequence looked something like this:

Colonel Munro – Base Commander
↓
Captain David Pilling – Base Security Officer
↓
Base Military Police
↓
CFSIU investigators (including WO Cunningham)

Even though specialized investigators were brought in, the investigation itself was triggered and coordinated through the base command structure.

This was not unusual for the era.

It was how the system was designed to function.

A System Built Around Command Authority

The Canadian military justice system in 1980 was governed by the National Defence Act as it existed before the major reforms of the late 1990s.

Under that framework, commanding officers exercised enormous influence over disciplinary matters.

They could:

• receive and assess allegations
• determine whether charges should proceed
• decide whether a case would move toward court martial or be handled in other ways

Military police were not institutionally independent in the way civilian police services are today.

They were embedded within the military chain of command.

This meant that when allegations arose involving an officer within the base hierarchy, the investigation inevitably unfolded within that same command structure.

The Conversation in 2011

In November 2011 I spoke with WO Cunningham about the historical investigation.

What he described to me reflected his position inside the original investigative machinery.

He spoke about:

  • the investigative direction
  • the involvement of legal officers
  • the dynamics surrounding the McRae court martial
  • that the activities of Captain McRae were uncovered due to the military police investigation of my babysitter.
  • that it was a command decision to not call in the RCMP to handle the investigation of the babysitter.
  • that it was a command decision to keep the McRae matter in the military justice system instead of handing it off to the civilian courts.
  • that it was a command decision to limit the number of charges brought against Captain McRae.

These were not abstract opinions. They were observations from someone who had been positioned inside the investigation itself.

In December 2011 I raised what Cunningham had told me in a complaint sent to the Canadian Forces Provost Marshal.

The Institutional Response

In January 2012 I received a response from the Provost Marshal’s office stating that the Professional Standards review had concluded that CFNIS investigators had acted appropriately.

The letter also included a strikingly narrow statement:

The review found no indication that military police in the 1980s were aware of incidents involving me personally.

This wording is significant.

It does not say that military police were unaware of abuse occurring on the base.

It only states that investigators were unaware of incidents involving me specifically.

That distinction leaves open a much larger question about what investigators knew regarding other victims and events at the time.

In his January 2012 response, which came less than one month after I informed the Provost Marshal of my conversation with Fredrick R. Cunningham, Deputy Commander Lt.-Col. Gilles Santerre concluded that he could find no evidence that the military police in 1980 were aware of incidents involving me personally. 

That statement may be technically correct in the narrowest possible sense, but it sidesteps the far more important fact that the individual I have long identified as the person who molested my brother and me was already under investigation by the base military police in 1980 for sexually abusing the children that he was babysitting. According to both former SIU investigator Fred Cunningham and the father of babysitter, it was this very investigation into the babysitter that led investigators to uncover the activities of Captain Father Angus McRae. In other words, the military police did not need to know my name to know that children on the base were being abused. The investigation that ultimately exposed McRae began precisely because those abuses were already being reported.

Also, Bobbie Garnet Bees became my legal name in the mid ’00s. The CFNIS were aware of my legal change of name and what my name was during the time of the abuse. I wouldn’t be surprised if the Provost Marshal and the CFNIS only searched the 1980 files for my current legal name and not my birth name. If it ever came to light at a later date that my name was in fact contained in the 1980 military police investigation of the babysitter or the CFSIU investigation of Captain McRae, the CFPM and the CFNIS could say “ooops, sorry, we honestly forgot about your change of name”.

The Curious Silence in 2016

Several years later, during a later phase of the investigation, CFNIS investigators attempted to contact Cunningham.

His response was notable.

He declined to participate in a recorded interview and refused to meet investigators in person. Instead, he spoke briefly by telephone and avoided giving detailed answers.

This was a stark contrast to the way he had spoken with me in 2011.

Why Cunningham became so cautious remains unclear.

But the timeline raises an obvious possibility.

After my complaint reached the Provost Marshal in December 2011 and included information Cunningham had shared, it is entirely possible that he was advised to avoid discussing the investigation further.

If that occurred, it would explain why he became extremely careful when investigators contacted him again years later.

The Official Secrets Act and the Security of Information Act allow the Canadian Armed Forces to control what information becomes public and what information is never to be discussed with the public.

A Structural Problem, Not a Conspiracy

The purpose of examining this structure is not to claim that a conspiracy occurred.

The issue is structural.

The system that existed in 1980 placed investigations, command authority, and disciplinary decisions within the same organizational chain.

When serious allegations arose involving members of that chain of command, investigators inevitably had to operate within an environment influenced by the same hierarchy.

This was precisely the kind of structural problem that later inquiries into the Canadian military justice system criticized.

Reforms implemented after the Somalia Inquiry were intended to create a clearer separation between investigators and the command authority whose members they might be required to investigate.

The Larger Question

Looking back at the McRae investigation today raises a simple question.

When a serious criminal investigation begins inside the same command structure that includes the accused officer, how independent can that investigation truly be?

The answer to that question is not found in speculation.

It is found in the structure of the system itself.

And that structure is preserved in the documents that still exist today.

Below is a closing section you can append to the blog post. I wrote it so it ties the command structure, the National Defence Act flaw you’ve been analyzing, and the chilling effect of secrecy laws together in a coherent way. You can trim or sharpen the tone to match your usual style.

⸻

The Structural Flaw Behind It All

When you step back from the personalities involved in the 1980 investigation, a larger structural problem comes into focus.

The issue is not simply that the investigation occurred on a military base, or that the accused officer was part of the command structure.

The issue lies in how the National Defence Act operated before the reforms of the late 1990s.

At the time, the Code of Service Discipline effectively placed the entire disciplinary process under command authority. Commanding officers were not merely supervisors. They were central actors in the decision-making process that determined how allegations would proceed.

They could influence whether:

• allegations were pursued as service offences

• charges were referred for court martial

• matters remained within the military system

• civilian police were notified

This arrangement created what can only be described as a prosecutorial bottleneck.

Every major decision flowed upward through the chain of command.

In the McRae investigation, the chain of command ran directly through Colonel Daniel Edward Munro, who was both the base commander and the direct superior officer of the accused.

Even though specialized investigators such as the CFSIU were brought in, the investigation itself still originated inside that command structure through the Base Security Officer.

The system was not designed to isolate investigators from command influence. It was designed to operate within the command structure itself.

That distinction matters.

Because when serious allegations involve individuals within that same hierarchy, investigators inevitably find themselves operating in an environment shaped by the very authority structure connected to the case.

⸻

Silence Through Secrecy

There is another layer to this story that is rarely discussed.

Investigators and military personnel operating in this environment were also bound by the Official Secrets Act, legislation that imposed strict legal obligations regarding the disclosure of information obtained through official duties.  

The Act criminalized unauthorized disclosure of government information connected to official service.

For someone like Warrant Officer Frederick Cunningham, who served as the Acting Section Commander of the CFSIU Western Region during the McRae investigation, this created a powerful constraint.

Anything he learned during the investigation was information acquired through official duties.

Speaking openly about those events decades later could potentially be interpreted as revealing protected information related to military operations, investigations, or internal decision-making.

Even if the events themselves occurred decades earlier, the legal obligations imposed by secrecy legislation do not necessarily expire simply because time has passed.

The result is a quiet but powerful chilling effect.

Former investigators may possess direct knowledge about how an investigation unfolded, but the legal environment surrounding them discourages open discussion.

In many cases they may simply decide that remaining silent is the safest course of action.

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The Problem With Silence

When secrecy laws intersect with a disciplinary system controlled by command authority, an unintended consequence emerges.

The people who know the most about how an investigation actually unfolded are often the least able to speak about it.

Investigators such as Cunningham may possess firsthand knowledge of the investigative environment, the legal advice involved, and the decisions made during the case.

But decades later, those same individuals may feel legally constrained from explaining what they witnessed.

This creates a situation where the historical record becomes shaped almost entirely by institutional documents and official summaries, rather than the voices of the investigators who actually worked the case.

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Why This Matters Today

The Canadian Forces eventually recognized the dangers inherent in this structure.

The reforms that followed the Somalia Inquiry were designed to strengthen the institutional independence of military police investigations and reduce the influence of the chain of command over criminal matters.

Those reforms did not appear out of nowhere.

They were a response to the realization that the previous system placed investigators in a position where command authority, legal control, and secrecy obligations intersected in ways that could obscure the full truth of events.

Looking back at the 1980 investigation through this lens reveals something important.

The question is not simply whether individuals acted correctly or incorrectly.

The deeper question is whether the system itself was designed in a way that made full transparency almost impossible.

And when the structure of the system makes transparency difficult, silence becomes the natural outcome.

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In the end, the McRae investigation tells us less about individual decisions than it does about the design of the system itself. The pre-1998 National Defence Act concentrated investigative power, prosecutorial control, and command authority inside the same chain of command. When serious allegations arose within that chain, the system was forced to investigate itself. That is not simply a historical curiosity. It is a design flaw. And like any flaw built into the foundation of a structure, its consequences were not always visible at the time, but they were inevitable.