I thought for sure that I was going to hear from Munro’s kin about the last two posts.
Nope, not a single word.
I’ve already got time booked off from work for the discovery hearing in my matter against the commissionaire from the Denison Armouries in Toronto at Canadian Forces Base Downsview.
Still in the early stages of my class action against the Canadian Armed Forces for the trail of destruction that Canadian Armed Forces officer Captain Father Angus McRae left in his wake as he moved from CFB Kingston, to CFB Portage La Prairie, to CFS Holberg, to CFB Namao.
The escitalopram is doing what it’s supposed to be doing. It’s not fixing anything. It’s just keeping my major depression and my severe anxiety in check. Which I guess is better than nothing.
My brain is so tired and so burnt out at the moment. I think this is the result of a lifetime of neglected mental health issues. It’s clearly obvious that although I’ve spent a lifetime enduring major depression, severe anxiety, and who the hell knows what else, it was probably dealing with COVID last year that really pushed me over the edge.
March is coming up, and this is when the Parliamentary committee is supposed to release their recommendations for M.A.i.D. for psychiatric issues. I’ll be sure to keep you posted.
“But if you win your actions against the Commissionaires and the Canadian Forces, surely you’ll reconsider, won’t you?”.
Nope.
Just far too tired and far too burnt out. Far too neglected. And apologies will never be coming.
I’ve lived far too long with being blamed for things that were far beyond my control.
I’ve also gone for far too long being called a liar by the media.
Richard will never apologize. He’s dead.
Brigadier General Daniel Edward Munro will never apologize, he did what the National Defence Act allowed him to do.
Any apology that I get from the Department of National Defence and the Canadian Armed Forces will be a meaningless cookie cutter jumble of mumble bullshit words approved by the Department of Justice and the Solicitor General of Canada. Used toilet paper will have move value than anything from the DND or the CF.
So, it really is a no-win situation no matter what happens.
On a different tangent, I’m set to get some new tattoos on February 4th. More facial tattoos. I started tattooing my face around 2016. Started off with just a couple of small excursions on to my face.
Most tattoo artists won’t touch a person’s face no matter how many other tattoos a person has.
Bill was more than willing to.
Then Bill moved out to the valley.
I found another artist who was willing to get more involved, but then with the start of COVID Liam moved out of town.
So, I found another artist.
I’m going to try to get as much work done in a session or two with Eduardo as possible.
The nice thing about secure employment and working where I work is that they tolerate tattoos so long as they’re not offensive or profane.
I’m going to stay with the line motif. But Eduardo wants to change the direction of the lines and maybe go much thicker. He also wants to go over my eyelids if I’m able to stand it.
Something long the lines of this. But working with what I currently have.
I really wish that I had gotten into tattoos a lot earlier in life. But being as that I had absolutely no family safety net to catch me if a previous employer decided that they didn’t like my tattoos, I was really hesitant to get anything that could be seen.
And with Richard’s voice in my head always asserting that I was completely useless I was always very reluctant to do anything nice for myself as I fully expected Richard to find out and then chastise and berate me for being a fucking idiot and trying to show off.
Honestly, I think that my tattoos and my piercings are my “Fuck You” to the society that practically shat upon me my entire life because I didn’t fit in and I wasn’t “normal”.
It’s not my fault I’m not normal. I tried so fucking hard in my younger days to be “normal” that I think I ruined any chance of ever actually being normal. My not being normal is a choice that my father and the Canadian Armed Forces made for me when I was a kid in need of psychiatric care. The Canadian Forces decided that secrets needed to be kept, and my father was too much of a fucking pussy to tell the Canadian Armed Forces to go get fucking stuffed.
Anyways, that’s this post for now.
I’d really like to post about other stuff, but I really don’t have any interests.
I don’t like sports.
I like music, but I’ve never been wrapped up in fandom.
I like bicycles, but I just ride them.
I like motorcycles, but again, I just ride them.
I don’t keep up with current entertainment trends. I actually just started watching “Game of Thrones” this past Sunday. I’m up to Season 1 Episode 6. So that’s what, 11 years behind?
I haven’t read a good book in ages. Just don’t have the interest. As a kid I loved reading. Even in my teen years I loved to read. I think mu interest in reading waned sometime in my 20’s. Too busy at work trying to keep up and keep my employers happy.
I like road trips on my motorcycle. Just me, myself, and the bike. But COVID put road trips on the back burner. So nothing to write about there.
And talking about work would probably put ya’ll to sleep.
The destruction of evidence by the CFNIS is nothing new to me.
There was a recent story in the Ottawa Citizen by David Pugliese. It had to do with the CFNIS being ordered by a commanding officer who wasn’t even in the military police hierarchy ordering the destruction of evidence in a CFNIS investigation. Due to the chain of command structure within the Canadian Armed Forces, the CFNIS had no choice but to comply with the order.
Now, if you’ve been following this blog, or my other blog at http://cfbnamao.ca you understand that I’ve been very leery of the claim by the Canadian Armed Forces that the CFNIS are “outside of the chain of command”.
During the investigation of my complaint against Peter, my babysitter from Canadian Forces Base Namao, there were many questionable issues with the investigation, but none so alarming as what happened on May 3rd and May 4th during my interactions with CFNIS investigator Mcpl Christian Cyr.
On May 3rd, 2011, just before lunch, Mcpl Cyr called me and left me a message on my phone to call him back immediately.
When I called him back, Cyr kept pressing me to understand that Peter was only 12 or 13 in the spring of 1980. However, as we all know, Peter was born in June of 1965.
The funny thing is, Peter’s CPIC file would have his correct date of birth, which is in June of 1965. The only place that Peter’s age is misstated is in the CFSIU transcript.
And, there’s no way that Peter was under the age of 14 at the time of McRae’s court martial. The Canadian Forces could only conduct a court martial for Gross Indecency and Indecent assault if the victim was over the age of consent, which was 14 in 1980. If the Canadian Forces wanted to try Captain McRae for gross indecency and indecent assault against children under the age of 14, the CF would have had to hand this case over to the civilian courts.
Near what should have been the end of the phone call, Mcpl Cyr just blurted out the matter of Captain Father Angus McRae. I broke down and lost my composure when he mentioned that the base chaplain had been arrested and charged with molesting children during the same period of time that I was accusing Peter of molesting myself and my brother.
Further, I told Mcpl Cyr about the five visits to the living quarters at the chapel in which Peter would escort me over from different parts of the base and that I never remembered anything after the sickly sweet grape juice. I don’t remember leaving the chapel. And I don’t remember how I got back home.
I had to leave work early as I was sickened and nauseated by what I discovered when I did a simple Google search for “CFB Namao Molesting Priest” on one of the computers at work.
When I got home from work I did some more searching for information on McRae.
I sent off a pair of emails that evening to Mcpl Cyr.
First email sent to CyrOur Lady of Loreto Chapel Second email to CyrEmails that I sent to Mcpl Cyr after he called me at workThese are Mcpl Cyr’s notes of the telephone conversationThis is the SAMPIS record of Mcpl Cyr’s interaction with me.
It should be noted from above that the first item #4 is incorrect. I told Mcpl Cyr that I remembered 5 visits that Peter had taken me on over to the chapel to see Captain McRae. All of the five visits ended with what I remembered as being a “sickly sweet grape juice”. I told Mcpl Cyr that I didn’t remember anything after the “grape juice”, not even how I got home from the chapel.
Just as an aside, and for the record. In October of 2020 with the assistance of Ottawa Citizen and Defence Watch writer David Pugliese, the DND and the Minister of National Defence conceded in their fight to keep Captain McRae’s Court Martial Transcripts away from me.
According to the Military Police Complaints Commission, the CFNIS had access to these court martial records as well as the CFSIU investigation paperwork from 1980.
Why is this important?
Warrant Officer Frederick Cunningham being examined during Captain McRae’s Court Martial
Me. The fucker gave me wine.
I wouldn’t learn until 2013 when I received the Certified Tribunal Records from the Military Police Complaints Commission that Mcpl Cyr had been creative with what I told him, and he also failed to mention the receipt of my emails in his notebooks or occurrence reports.
Cyr does a Google Search
So here, Mcpl Cyr does a Google search for an exact phrase that I searched for the day previous which I mentioned in an email that he fails to indicate that he received.
On the morning of May 4th, 2011 I called Mcpl Cyr and told him more information about the rectory.
Call #3 was the call I made to Mcpl Cyr on May 3rd, 2011 Call #6 was the call I made to Mcpl Cyr on May 4th, 2011
It was during this phone call that Mcpl Cyr informed me that there never was a rectory at the chapel, and that the chapel that I had indicated on my email was a new chapel, the chapel that was on the base when I lived there in ’79 to ’80 was in a different place. He also said that the padre never lived on the base. This phone call is not mentioned anywhere in his log book or his SAMPIS report.
Well, the blueprints for Our Lady or Loreto Chapel show the rectory.
The red circle highlights the Rectory. The dates on these drawings are hard to make out, but the blueprints were drawn for The Royal Canadian Air Force HQ. The RCAF ceased to exist in 1968.RectoryRectoryRectoryRectoryRectoryIn Captain McRae’s court martial transcript, there are 33 mentions of “RECTORY”
See the CFNIS had Captain McRae’s court martial transcript. The CFNIS had the CFSIU investigation paperwork. In that paperwork was this document from McRae’s Court Martial transcript.
Angus McRae’s admission to the Catholic Church that he had been committing “homosexual acts” with several minors over the past couple of years.
Peter was the main witness for the prosecution. Peter’s testimony is completely blanked out in Captain McRae’s court martial transcript. However, the Military Police Complaints Commission was kind enough to summarize how Peter came to be involved with the prosecution of Captain McRae.
In the MPCC final report, the MPCC indicates that the court martial transcripts indicate this about Mr. X Mr. X is Peter, my babysitter.
Peter was the only boy that Captain McRae was actually charged with abusing, even though the Canadian Forces Special Investigation Unit knew in 1980 that he had been molesting more than just Peter.
In 2011 the CFNIS knew.
In 2011 the Provost Marshal knew.
In 2011 the Judge Advocate General would have known.
In 2011 the Vice Chief of Defence staff would have known.
In 2011 the Chief of Defence Staff would have known.
In 2011 the office of the Minister of National Defence would have know.
As soon as the Alberta Serious Incident Response Team transferred my complaint against Peter from the Edmonton Police Service to the Canadian Forces National Investigation Service the CFNIS would have known who Peter was and what risk my complaint against Peter posed to the Canadian Armed Forces.
And this is why ANY mention of Captain Father Angus McRae was removed from the CFNIS investigation GO 2011-5754.
Someone up the chain of command had made the decision that my complaint against Peter was to go absolutely no where.
The knew the liability risk that this would pose if a connection was made between myself, Peter, and Captain Father Angus McRae.
This is why I fully believe that my father was encouraged to “forget” that his mother was raising my brother and I. There could be absolutely no way of linking Peter to us, especially not in the authority roll as our babysitter.
When I went to Federal Court in 2013 asking for the court to quash the findings of the 2012 MPCC review the Attorney General of Canada argued that the CFNIS were correct to strike any mention of Captain McRae from CFNIS investigation GO 2011-5754 as my complaint had been against Peter S. and not Captain McRae. The Justice hearing my matter agreed with the Attorney General on this point.
I’ll tell you first hand, this lunacy, and this subterfuge is enough to drive a sane person mad.
My father wasn’t a drunk asshole with rage issues, I was just too sensitive.
I wasn’t having psychiatric issues due to the abuse and the conversion therapy, I was just acting up to get attention.
Later in life, when I tried to receive justice for what had occurred on Canadian Forces Base Namao I was accused of lying. I was accused of making things up, of blowing things out or proportion. The Minister of National Defence himself accused me of playing games and having angles.
Throughout the CFNIS investigation GO 2011-5754 I was told time and time again that P.S. couldn’t have done what I accused him of, I was told time and time again that there was no fire at PMQ #26 on 12th Street. I was told that the base chapel was in a different location. I was told that I couldn’t have been molested in the base chapel by Captain McRae as the chapel didn’t have a rectory.
On May 3rd, 2011 and May 4th 2011 I sent Master Corporal Christian Cyr some emails that detailed the chapel and other places on the base. Not a single one of these fucking emails was included in the investigation. It’s like they magically disappeared. But I know that Cyr received these emails as he used a certain phrase from one of my emails in one of his reports.
When I got my hands on the Certified Tribunal Records from the Military Police Complaints Commission, I was fucking horrified.
I had submitted my foster care records to the CFNIS in August of 2011 to bolster the fact that there was no on at home that my brother or I could have told about the abuse.
Instead the CFNIS focused on a paragraph or two that said that I was emotionally disturbed and causing trouble.
The CFNIS ignored the fact that my foster care records said that it was our grandmother raising my brother and I on base and that grandma was invited to live with us in 1977 and didn’t move out until 1981.
This was important as my father denied ever hiring a babysitter. Of course he’d deny it, it wasn’t him that hired the babysitter, it was his mother.
I just can’t figure out if it was Richard that erased his mother from our house or if the CFNIS suggested that he not mention his mother as that would help ensure that P.S. could not be indicated as our babysitter, thereby casting further doubt on my allegations against P.S.
The CFNIS ignored the part of my foster care records that said that my brother and I viewed grandma as far too authoritarian and strict. They completely skipped the part where I told the psychologist that I was going to kill myself if grandma didn’t leave the house.
The CFNIS ignored the psychological report of the psychologist hired by the Canadian Forces that said that my father accepted no responsibility for his family, blamed others for the problems with his family, expected others to solve the problems with his family, that he denied any knowledge of his kids having problems, blamed his mother for hiding those problems from him.
So, in the end, Richard died in 2017 without ever having to own up to the horrific fucking hell he put me through to cover for his own irresponsibility that led to my brother and I being sexually abused for 1-1/2 years on CFB Namao.
What’s even worse is that the CFNIS had in its possession the CFSIU investigation paperwork and the Court Martial transcripts which indicated that the Military Police in 1980 knew that P.S. was molesting children on the base.
What’s even worse is that the CFNIS had done CPIC checks on P.S. and found that he was charged and convicted in 1x in 1982, 1x in 1984, 2x in 1985 for the sexual abuse of children.
“Mr. Bees, we just couldn’t find anything that would indicate that P.S. was capable of what you accused him of”
Why did the CFNIS spin the investigation the way they did?
Why did the Canadian Forces, the Provost Marshal, and the CFNIS go out of their way to protect a multi-time convicted child molested?
Liability.
Someone up the Chain of Command made the decision that I was never to be linked to Captain Father Angus McRae via P.S.
If P.S. abused my brother and I as a result of the abuse, the grooming, or the instructions that P.S. received from Captain Father Angus McRae, there would be the possibility of compensation.
After all, Captain McRae was a member of the regular force, he was living on a secure defence establishment in housing provided to him by the Canadian Armed Forces, as he was a regular force member he was subject to the Code of Service discipline 24/7, and I lived on the same defence establishment that the Canadian Forces were supposed to provide security for.
If my matter had made it to court and through discovery it was learnt that Captain McRae had molested many other children on CFB Namao, CFS Holberg, CFB Portage La Prairie, and CFB Kingston, where would the liability end?
If my matter had made ripples in the media, how many other kids that had been abused on the bases across Canada would start coming forward.
BOBBIE YOU’RE FULL OF SHIT! THE CFNIS CANNOT BE COMPROMISED! THE CFNIS INVESTIGATORS ARE OUTSIDE OF CHAIN OF COMMAND INFLUENCE!
Yeah?
You sure about that?
Well, as it turns out a Commanding Officer outside of the CFNIS ordered the CFNIS to destroy evidence and the fucking CFNIS complied. It has to. It has no fucking choice. Section 83 of the National Defence Act says that every person subject to the Code of Service Discipline WILL obey the LAWFUL command of a superior officer. There are no fucking exceptions for the investigators within the CFNIS.
Section 18.5 says that the Vice Chief of Defence Staff can direct the Provost Marshal and the CFNIS.
Let’s quit fucking pretending that the CFNIS are real police.
Especially not on the order of some fucking jerk-off commanding officer.
The Canadian Fucking Forces just keep getting worse and worse as the days go by as more shit floats to the top of the swamp.
But Bobbie, doesn’t this make you happy?
Why the fuck would it make me happy?
I counted on these fucking assholes to keep me safe as a child when I lived on their fucking defence establishments.
I counted on these fucking assholes to ensure that justice was carried out and that every attempt was made to make me whole again after the fucking abuse. Instead I got 2-1/2 years of psychological abuse at the hands of military social worker Captain Totzke.
When it became apparent that my father was incapable of looking after me due to his issues, I counted on the Canadian Forces to assist Alberta Social Services with my care, not help my fucking father skip to a different province.
In 2011, when the CFNIS took my matter away from the civilian police, I was counting on the CFNIS to help me escape from a lifetime of being blamed for allowing the babysitter to have molested my younger brother. Instead the fucking worthless CFNIS acted to protect the DND and the CF from civil actions and potential public humiliation had the truth about CFB Namao been made public.
I was told by the Military Police Complaints Commission that there was no way possible for the Canadian Forces to interfere with a CFNIS investigation, that the CFNIS were free from Chain of Command influence.
Well, as it turns out, this is all bullshit and fucking lies.
Bullshit and fucking lies is all the Canadian Armed Forces seem to be good at.
Telling the fucking truth seems to be far beyond the abilities of the Canadian Armed Forces.
So, if you’re still trying to grasp why I want to die via M.A.i.D. after M.A.i.D. for psychiatric issues becomes law in 2023, this is why.
My whole fucking life has been one horrific fucking joke. Everything I knew as a kid was absolute fucking lies. My sexuality was destroyed by Captain Totzke. My mental health and well-being was destroyed by my own father and the Canadia Armed Forces. All for the sake of keeping a fucking secret.
Even if the Minister of National Defence, Anita Anand ekes out a meagre apology, what the fuck is that going to do. It’s not going to bring my father back so that he can apologize and eat humble fucking pie for what he did. It’s not going to undo the abuse at the hands of P.S. or Captain McRae. It’s not going to undo the psychological abuse I suffered under Captain Totzke.
Knowing what I’ve learnt about the Canadian Armed Forces and their knack for bald-faced lying and duplicity makes anything the Canadian Forces, the Department of National Defence, or the Minister of National Defence absolutely worthless.
Why would any person in their right mind want to willingly live in complete torment knowing what I know and seeing what I’ve seen.
This is the reason why M.A.i.D. has such a powerful allure for me.
I’ve already been through enough in life.
Suicide will never be an answer for me. Why should I have to suffer more in the end? Why should I have to risk surviving a botched attempt?
No amount of counselling, talking, arts therapy, magical healing crystals, or chakras will undo what was done.
My bed has been made. Now I have to lay in it. Sucks that the housekeeper making my bed was a member of the Canadian Armed Forces.
The peaceful exit of M.A.i.D. is what I look forward to.
No pain. No suffering. No more depression. No more anxiety. No more torment. No more lies.
Well, just completed another 365 day orbit around the sun.
So far I’ve been on this planet 18,358 days
Or 50 years, 3 months, 4 days.
Or 603 months, 4 days.
Or 1,586,131,200 seconds
Or 26,435,520 minutes
Or 440,592 hours
Or 18,358 days
Or 2622 weeks and 4 days
It has been an interesting existence. Definitely hasn’t been short on the surprises.
From start to finish we move in one direction, and that’s from birth to grave.
On that journey we encounter different branches along the tangent.
Where those branches go is anyone’s guess.
I don’t know what the next year will have to offer me.
I’ll find out what the recommendations are from the committee reviewing the further amendments to the Criminal Code of Canada to legalize medical assistance in dying for psychiatric issues. Their recommendations are supposed to be ready for Parliament in March 2022. If the government survives and approves the recommendations then they should be passed into law by March 2023. To be honest, it will probably take a year or two to navigate the system to get my prescription.
In the coming year I don’t really expect much in the way of interest from the media. And that’s fine. Just have to face the fact that the DND and the CF have much larger PR budgets than I do and that the DND and the CF can tell the media what the truth will be.
I do expect much more calmness in the coming year. 40 years of untreated major depression and severe anxiety have taken their toll. But the escitalopram has somewhat tamed the depression and the anxiety. And the fact that I now have a road map for my future means that I no longer have to worry about any uncertainty. And it was this uncertainty I think that was driving so much of my anxiety.
I honestly don’t mind anyone knowing that I’m on medications. It is what it is. Absolutely nothing to be ashamed of. It’s like the fact that after a lifetime of “eagle eyes” I now find myself requiring strong glasses to read anything small than 30 point text.
It doesn’t look as if COVID is going to let up any time soon. But after having been alone for my entire life, being isolated has been easy to deal with. They often say that “base brats” have a certain resiliency to adverse conditions due to the conditions and environment that we grew up in. And it’s not like I’ve been locked in my room. I still go for bike rides and go for long walks. But by myself.
My civil action against the former commissionaire is proceeding. There will be a preliminary hearing for discovery coming up in March. This is a good sign.
My civil action against the Canadian Forces is proceeding slow and steady. We’ll see if I’ll hang around for the end of this.
My doctor is still urging me to go see a head shrinker. But as I’ve told him, due to the environment I grew up in, and my previous experiences with military and civilian head shrinkers I honestly don’t think that anything productive will come of any counselling.
It’s been an interesting couple of years being the Chief Engineer at work.
I have absolutely no plans of going to the new hospital.
I’ve had in depth consultations with the designers, the architects, and the Professional Engineers designing the power plant of the new hospital, so in a way my contributions will be around long after I’m gone.
The dedicated fibre optic network for the HVAC and Building Automation was put in at my insistence. This network will be completely separate from the hospital IT network and as such it will be easier for the hospital to allow contractors on to the network from the outside as the network won’t have patient records, personal information, or medical diagnostic equipment on it.
I pushed for a dedicated freight elevator from the plant workshops and offices on the P2 level, up to the energy centre on the 4 & 5 floors, and then up to the roof. I pushed for this so that moving chemicals and large motors and pumps and anything else wouldn’t hinder the patient and staff elevators.
The new hospital will be ready in about 6 or 7 years.
The current hospital is probably about 7 to 10 years away from shutting down.
7 to 10 years is far too long for me.
But at least I know that I’ll have secure employment right up to the end.
” In the end Senua, it isn’t the gods that cause us so much suffering, but those closest to us.”
In 2013 when I showed my brother our father’s statement that he gave to the CFNIS 2011 my brother wasn’t sure what to say.
My brother said that I needed to give Richard the benefit of doubt. He said that the Canadian Forces or the CFNIS might have “leaned” on Richard to get him to state what he did.
Might be some truth to this. I know that Fred Cunningham was terrified of speaking to the CFNIS in 2016 and would only speak to the CFNIS “off the record” and without notes. Kinda an odd request for a former military police officer. But hey, what do I know?
And it’s true that the CFNIS did have the court martial transcripts and the CFSIU investigation paperwork from the 1980 Captain Father McRae fiasco. And yes, in 2011 the CFNIS, the Provost Marshal, and the JAG obviously realized the liability problem this posed for the Canadian Forces if Richard had identified P.S. as my babysitter. So yes, as my brother said, there was the motive for the CFNIS to “lean” on Richard to get him to say what the CFNIS wanted him to say.
But having my social service records from Nova Scotia, PEI, Alberta, and Toronto I know that Richard had issues. And Richard wasn’t averse to throwing people under the train to make himself look good.
Let’s look at his “Will Say” statement.
Statement taken from my father, Richard Gill, by Master Corporal Christian Cyr and Master Corporal Jodrey on June 9th, 2011 at 13:50.
a) We lived on CFB Namao from August 1978 until October 1980. We lived on CFB Griesbach from October 1980 until April of 1983.
b) Richard had my address. He also had my phone number.
c) This telephone conversation occurred in August of 2006. Richard named the babysitter by himself, pleaded with me to understand that it was his mother that hired the babysitter, that he had nothing to do with it.
d) At various times that we lived on CFB Griesbach and on CFB Downsview, Richard would remind me that my brother was “out of control” because of what I let the babysitter / P.S. do to my younger brother.
e) Yes, I attended the Guthrie school on CFB Namao, and the Major General Griesbach School on CFB Griesbach, but Richard seems to forget to mention that I was transferred to the Westfield program for emotionally disturbed children in June of 1982 when he signed the paperwork admitting me into the Alberta Foster Care system.
g) Due to creative wording, it is made to sound as if Grandma only stayed with us for a very short time on CFB Namao. Grandma lived with us pretty well for the entire time that we lived on CFB Summerside. She was with us from 1977 until 1978. She moved back to Edmonton in the spring of 1978. In July of 1978 Richard received a compassionate posting from Captain Lynda Tyrell at CFB Summerside to move to CFB Namao. Grandma lived with us for the entire time we lived on CFB Namao. Grandma lived with us until the summer of 1981 on CFB Griesbach. Richard would drop us off with Grandma over the weekends from the summer of 1981 until we moved from Edmonton in April of 1983. Richard’s step father, Roy William Anderson didn’t die until 1983.
h) As Richard said to me in August of 2006, “HE” didn’t hire the babysitter. Grandma hired the babysitter. The babysitter molesting my brother and I was grandma’s fault, not his. He warned grandma not to hire the babysitter, but she wouldn’t listen to him. There were times that grandma didn’t have the money to pay the babysitter, so he had too. Also very convenient that he can’t remember the address or the names of the people he’d trust to look after his kids.
g) I actually met one of my childhood friends from CFB Shearwater. She was the daughter of the kindergarten teacher at Hampton Grey Memorial. Jennifer was my main playmate on CFB Shearwater. As it turns out, Jennifer’s mother was the kindergarten teacher. If I had been any trouble at all I would never have been allowed to play with Jennifer. On Summerside Richard was rarely home after I started grade 1.
h) is very interesting. When I examined Richard for Federal Court in 2013, I asked him if he remembered who Captain Terry Totzke was. Richard replied that he had never heard of this name. Captain Totzke is the military social worker that I became involved with on CFB Griesbach just after our arrival. Captain Totzke sent Richard, my brother, and I to a psychiatrist for evaluation. I was found to be terrified of men, I was certain that my father was going to kill me, I didn’t like being touched, and I was found to be well beyond depressed and suffering from anxiety. My father was found to accept no responsibility for his family, blamed others for problems with his family, expected others to solve problems with his family. Captain Totzke was more concerned with the homosexuality that I had exhibited on CFB Namao when I was discovered being buggered by the 15 year old babysitter. Captain Totzke said that I had a mental illness, and that was homosexuality. In November of 1981 our teachers and principal at Major General Griesbach School were so concerned with the inaction of Captain Totzke in regard to my brother and I that they called in Alberta Social Service.
i) I have never called Richard asking for money. It was far easier to squeeze blood from a stone than it was to ask Richard for money. It was also far less humiliating to starve and sleep in homeless shelters than to ask Richard for money. Around 1996ish Richard called me at work and said that my brother was in the Vancouver area and that he wanted me to help my brother with his car. Richard promised me that he’d send me something for my time. Nothing ever came.
My motorcycle, a 2001 Triumph Sprint RS, was written off in an accident that ICBC found the other party to be 100% responsible for. ICBC paid to rebuild the motorcycle and paid for all new riding gear. But, somehow me calling Richard after the accident to let him know that I was okay had somehow become me wanting money.
My car at the time, a 1981 Plymouth Horizon, blew the lower rad hose while I was driving to work one day. I bought a used engine from West Edmonton Pick-a-part. I bought all brand new hosing from Chrysler. I used Art’s garage out on the acreage to swap the engine. All in all this cost me about $500 to do. This was at the point in time when I still had the majority of my $30k from the Canshare Cabling contract job in Ontario.
My brother likes to say that I’m imagining Richard’s hatred of me. But this was far from imagined. Richard is one of those guys that could carry a grudge like Atlas carried the world. I know that it wasn’t my name change that pissed him off. I know it was my involvement P.S. that pissed him off. Apparently I fucked with his military career. I also willing to bet that I just reminded him too much of Marie. Whatever it was, the fucker absolutely despised me.
j) again, no.
k) in 2008 after I had received my paperwork stating that my name change was official and after I had received my new birth certificates, I sent Richard a brief letter stating why I had changed my name and that I was hoping with the name change that I’d be able to get a fresh start in life and leave the whole CFB Namao fiasco behind. He called me and told me to never contact him again.
l) from 1980 onwards Richard would blame me for any behavioural issues with my brother. I let the babysitter molest my brother so therefore my brother’s misbehaviours were my fault. During our time with Captain Terry Totzke, Richard and Totzke would often tell me that if I didn’t like what had occurred on CFB Namao that I wouldn’t have allowed for it to go on for so long. Richard was furious that I had been caught kissing another boy on CFB Griesbach stating that “that shit from Namao has to fucking stop” and that if I ever kissed another boy that he’d break my fucking neck.
I was in kindergarten on CFB Shearwater. Jennifer’s mother, the kindergarten teacher laughed at this. He never sent me to a psychologist in Edmonton. That was Captain Totzke. Richard is noted in the Alberta Social Services paperwork as being very non-compliant with their recommendations. I was not “hyperactive”. I was beyond depressed, beyond despair, and severely anxious. I was terrified of men, and I hated being touched. Richard was the one found by the psychologist hired by the Canadian Forces to be unwilling to take responsibility for his family. Richard was also found to be prone to blaming the problems with his family on others. Alberta Social Services found that Richard would often change his stories from one meeting to the next (he lied) and that he often told people that he perceived to be in positions of authority what he thought they wanted to hear (I wonder if this is what happened here) I dealt with the “Canada’s Wonderland” issue before. This statement is completely laughable. As my brother said, Canada’s Wonderland was Richard’s discount babysitting service. We had no choice if we wanted to go or not.
1978 he received a compassionate posting to CFB Namao. In October of 1980 he was moved from CFB Namao to CFB Griesbach. In April of 1983 he fled the jurisdiction of Alberta so as to avoid my apprehension by Alberta Social Services.
2011 two years previous would have been Richard calling me to tell me to never call him again because of the name change.
Anyways, after I read my father’s statement I was floored. So I took advantage of the Federal Court rules and I sent him a written examination. Even though the Justice wouldn’t allow this to be entered into the proceedings, they’re still a part of my applicants filings and they’ll be on record with the court.
My written examination of Richard
And here are Richard’s answers. Note that the Attorney General of Canada, Department of National Defence, the Minister of National Defence, and the Federal Court of Canada all have copies of these questions and answers, but not a single agency cared.
Richard’s Answers.
1 & 2 – He agrees with everything that is noted in the “Will Say” that I supplied to him. 3 – We were at #11 – 12st from August 1978 until October 1980 4 – We were at 10215 – 138 Ave from October 1980 until April 1983. 5 – Roy Willian Anderson did not pass away until October of 1983 so I have absolutely no idea who passed away in 1980.
6 – Seems to be okay, but Grandma had actually been out to Shearwater numerous times to look after my brother and I when Richard and Marie were having problems. 7 – This is the first and probably only time that Richard has ever publicly admitted that his mother was First Nations. 8-9 – Can’t say whether he knew or not either way. 10 – This is weird. My brother would have been far too young to have been involved in most activities I was involved in. 11- Again this is weird.
Me, with no interest in sports apparently.
12 – Aurther Herman Gill is correct. Even though we lived in Toronto from April 1983 until July of 1990 he never once went to see his father in Oshawa even though we frequently visited Sue’s parents in Oshawa. 13 – This is correct, Uncle Doug would stay with us when he was home from the oil fields. 14 – Doug definitely would not have slept on the couch. Especially when he’d bring women home to spend the night with him. Doug had a cot and a sleeping area set up in the basement of our PMQ. 15 – Makes sense. That’s why Grandma was living with us. Richard was often away on training exercises or staying with girlfriends off base. 16 – 3 & 4 are wrong. Grandma would take the military shuttle bus from Namao to Griesbach and then transfer to the City of Edmonton busses. This is why we needed the services of P.S. in the first place. Grandma would have been recommended P.S. by Captain McRae himself as McRae had driven Grandma to the hospital a couple of times in a military motor pool car. 17 – This is correct. Grandma lived with us 24/7/365. Richard was rarely home. 18 – They knew what my problems were. That’s not why I had to attend the Westfield program. 19 – There were times that we wouldn’t see Richard for months on end. The average length of his training exercises was about 6 to 8 weeks. 20 – ? 21 – ? 22- This is where Richard throws his mother under the bus again like he did in 2006. Now there is a babysitter in the house unlike what he said in 2011, and lo-and-behold his mother hired the babysitter. 23 – August of 1980 according to the Social Service records, but only one month off, so not too bad. 24 – Not even going to try to make sense of this gibberish. 25 – Wow. We went to session after session with Captain Totzke at his office in the base HQ building. At the time I had no idea that he was in the Canadian Forces, but you can bet your bottom dollar that me father knew. 26 – 1 & 2 were notes in my social service records that indicated that Richard wanted very little involvement with his family and blamed the problems with his family on my mother, his mother, the teachers at school. 27 – So apparently I could flip between hyperactive and suicidally depressed. I don’t know about you, but I’m beginning to realize that Richard was a special kinda of “fucked up”. 28 – Kinda correct. Our teachers and our principal were getting frustrated with Captain Totzke’s lack of progress, hence why the call was made to bring Alberta Social Services into the picture. 29 – This was my apprehension. According to the Social Service paperwork Richard blew up because of the decision to remove me from the house and to place me into residential care or foster care. 30 – He’s just being stupid here. According to Captain Totzke when he spoke with my child care worker on January 28th, 1983, my father had just been transferred immediately to Ontario. That’s two days after Alberta Social Services wanted to pull me from the house. After this Richard pulled me from school. At the time he told me that I had been expelled for kissing another boy. In reality he would have pulled me from the school as this school was off base and Social Services could grab me at anytime. As log as I stayed on base, Social Services would need Captain Totzke’s permission to enter on to a Defence Establishment to remove me. 31 – A check with PEI reveals that Richard only made an application to the courts for custody, but that it never went any further, and the courts never awarded him custody. 32- According to my social service paperwork both my father and Captain Totzke promised Alberta Social Services that I was supposed to be placed into the Sick Kids hospital in Toronto for psychiatric care. Sick Kids has no records of me ever having been brought in for an evaluation. 33- Of course he can’t. It’s more of his made up bullshit. 34 – No teacher is going to consider a child not being allowed to go to an amusement park as “child abuse”. Richard sure loved to play the victim, didn’t he? 35 – Alberta Social Services had given the Children’s Aid Society of Toronto a “heads up” that my family was moving to Toronto. 36 – sounds okay except for #3. October 23rd, 1969 was the largest naval peacetime disaster in the history of the Canadian Navy. 11 members of the Canadian Navy died as a result of the explosion of one of the Kootenay’s gearboxes. Richard had previously served on that ship. He personally knew three of the men killed in the engine room. He was with the Sea King squadron that was accompanying the ships that day. He would have been involved with the removal of the dead and injured from the Kootenay. 37 – Richard did’t talk. Richard yelled. Richard bellowed. 38 – Projection much? This is exactly how he was described in the Alberta Social Services paperwork. 39 – No? Fuck me. On our way to the counselling sessions that we did attend, both Richard and Totzke would tell me to be quiet and not to answer Pat and Wayne’s questions as they would twist my words and make it sounds as if I said things that I didn’t say. 40 – This was Richard’s infamous temper tantrum meltdown in which he caused significant damage to the PMQ and required 3 military police officers to restrain him. This domestic appears to have been triggered by Marie’s request for him to sign the divorce papers to allow her to marry Art Wudrich. 41 – No. See the social service paperwork for an explanation of what home life was like. 42 – the result of the IQ test was 136 +/-6 43 – is correct, I’m a grade 8 drop out. 44 – this is incorrect. I moved out of the house in January or February of 1988 just after I had turned 16. 45 – Not bad. 46 – Since September 5th, 2005. 47 – 4th Class Power Engineering. 48 – He named P.S. himself various times between 1980 and 1988. He also named P.S. by himself and without any prodding in August of 2006 when I called him. 49 – Massive house fire, but okay, maybe he didn’t notice the burn marks up the front of the PMQ and the fresh plywood over the windows. 50 – He knew who McRae was. 51 – 52 Seem to be correct. This was a one-room school house apparently. 53 isn’t exactly correct. He only had grade 8. He had to take an upgrading course to join the Navy in 1963. It was through this course that he met Albert Dagenais and this is how he met my mother.
Below are some of the observations about my father made by the psychologist hired by Captain Terry Totzke to evaluate my family. Also are some of the observations made by Alberta Social Services.
Richard Gill has issuesThis is the Richard Gill that I grew up with.
Well, that’s a problem. I don’t really “love” anything or aspire to anything. That was beat out of me a very long time ago.
Another thing that I realized a long time ago is without family support, you can have the greatest business ideas, but you won’t get anywhere.
You never hear about the small business failures.
You only hear about the successes.
Bobbie, if you just tried, you could be the next Bill Gates. He started off from absolutely nothing. You like computers, right?
Won’t go off on a Bill bashing tangent, but he came from “old money”. Musk’s family was involved with an Apartheid era Emerald Mine in South Africa. Jeff Bezos had easy access to about $250k in the early ’90s when Amazon almost went bust. Sure, they had innovative ideas, but they also had the family and the money to back them.
And no. I don’t like computers.
I use computers. I can RTFM (read the fucking manual). And I can set them up.
But I don’t like computers. That ship fucking sailed when I was in my teens. I never developed an interest in computers after that.
But what about a small business Bobbie? You seem to like lighting effects and lighting systems. You installed and wired up a BOSE sound system by yourself and installed the DMX lighting system by yourself and impressed the pants off the owner of the lighting & sound company that supplied the equipment.
That’s true. But to start up an even modest lighting company you need funds. And you need guarantors for your loans.
I would rather smash my testicles with a ball-and-peen hammer than ever have approached Richard for any type of loan or help securing a loan.
As Richard would often tell his friends, Richard kept my brother and I solely to control the costs. If he had given us to our mother, he’d have to pay child support, and that wasn’t something that he was ever going to do.
So no, there was no manna from heaven with Richard. It wasn’t that Richard was cheap really. He had the money. And he could indulge himself and Sue whenever he saw fit. The problem is he had such a hard on hatred of Marie. And seeing as how he couldn’t discharge his hatred on Marie he vented his hatred upon my brother and I. The “Heathcliff” phenomenon.
And no, my stepmother would never have been an option. She made it very clear early on that we were not hers.
My mother? Between September of 1982 and July of 1990 I had absolutely no contact with her. From July of 1990 until February of 1992 I had contact with her, but she was unemployed for a good stretch of that. And then I had no contact with her from February of 1992 until November of 2013 when I had to track her down to ask her about who actually had legal custody of my brother and I.
Extended family? Nope. Our family was far too fractured.
So no, there was no financial backing available.
Bobbie, start small then.
Even if you do start small, you need cash.
Okay, fine Bobbie, maybe you don’t go into lighting production. Do something else like cars.
I hate cars. I despise cars. I haven’t owned a car since 1998. I only got into working on cars as I thought that it would be a way to bond with Richard. Man was I ever fucking wrong.
When I lived in Edmonton and I was unemployed from the summer of 1991 until I moved to Vancouver in February 1992 I did some cash work for a bodyshop on the south side of Edmonton. Man did I get fucked over by those two brothers. But there’s a lot of that in the automobile repair business. All I can say is be very fucking wary of buying a car from a bodyshop.
Electronics, why don’t you start an electronics shop? Again, money.
And I turned my back on electronics when I was younger because of what an employer had said to me. Both Bruce and Ed at Rainbow games turned me down for pay raises because although I could beat a DeVry certified technician, the fact that I didn’t have an electronics certificate meant that they couldn’t justify paying me what they paid an electronics tech that was qualified.
Yeah, I’ve used electronics to open doors for me into jobs that I normally wouldn’t have been hired for. But once in the door I scale back what I’m willing to do. I’ll do enough to make up for my major depression and my severe anxiety, but nothing more. But that’s more so that I don’t piss anyone off at work. It sucks that I have to play dumb in order to get along with others. But that’s the way it works out for the “unticketed” and “unqualified”.
So, it’s not that I haven’t tried. It’s not that I didn’t have hopes and dreams. It’s just that those options were never available to me.
I honestly don’t believe that at any point in time the mental health wellbeing of military dependents has ever been a concern of the Canadian Armed Forces or the Department of National Defence.
Sure, the DND, the CF, and the Minister of National Defence will bloviate about the Military Family Resource Centre and other meaningless programs that the DND and the CF have instituted over the years.
But if they really cared, why does the CF and the DND draw such a hard line in the sand as to which dependents they will support, and which dependents can piss off and go get bent?
In my day as a military dependent the maximum age for a dependent to live in a PMQ on base was 18. The only way you could remain living in the PMQ after your 19th birthday was if you were mentally disabled or if you were attending an institution of higher learning. But even if you were attending an institution of higher learning 24 was the maximum age that you could live in a PMQ on base.
In my day dependents were officially referred to as “D.F.& E.” which means “Dependents, Furniture, and Effects”. The Office of the Ombudsman for the Canadian Forces, which only existed as of 1999, was so taken back by this callousness that they kept asking DND to stop dehumanizing the military dependents and to stop referring to them as D.F.& E. which implied that military dependents were of no more worth than the service member’s furniture.
As a kid, there were times when kids would just stop coming to school. Or kids would just one day leave the base. Never to be seen again. And this wasn’t due to postings. If it was a posting nine times out of ten the posting would occur between late June and early September. These absences were often due to their serving parent dying. Training exercise, workplace incident, health issue, it didn’t matter. PMQs could only be rented to active service members. Deceased persons cannot serve in the military. So off the base the family went.
It was rare that a base commander would intervene and make an exception, because once you’ve made one exception how can you not make another? And allowing the deceased member’s family to remain on base in a PMQ could prove to be an issue for DND and the CF. DND and the CF had fought numerous court battles over the PMQs with regard to civilian family courts granting the non-serving spouse possession of the PMQ in which to raise their children. DND would obviously have an issue on their hands if non-serving spouses were suddenly taking possession of PMQs in the PMQ patches. And schools on base prior to 1994 were run by DND and the CF. These schools were exclusively for the children of active service members. How long was the DND and the CF supposed to support the education of a deceased member’s children?
So, back in my day once a service member died, that was it, the DND and the CF washed their hands of the service member’s dependents.
There was no support.
There was no aftercare.
There was nothing.
We weren’t eligible for social programs from the provinces related to a serving parent’s death as the provinces considered that the be the responsibility of the DND and the CF.
Living on base wasn’t as easy as it’s often portrayed.
The children of dysfunctional families were often tormented and ostracized by their peers. When you live in a regimented community like a military PMQ patch you either conform or you will have trouble.
Dysfunctional parents, like my father, could easily use the Canadian Forces to stay one step ahead of civilian social services. Sure civilian parents could move to a different town, but at great expense. In the Canadian Forces your dysfunctional parent’s moving and travel expenses were covered.
Back in my day the military social workers were more concerned with containing problems. But again, that’s the way the military functioned back then and still functions to this day.
The rank of your serving parent had its privilege, especially if your serving parent was an officer or above. Anybody who says that this wasn’t the case is absolutely full of shit.
There was no way that the base military police were going to go after the son of a Lt. Col. for beating the crap out of the son of a Corporal. No Warrant Officer MP is going to risk getting transferred to CFS Alert over two kids having a donnybrook out behind the rec centre. And yes, this still holds true to today. The provost marshal himself even said that he would never investigate a senior officer of the military.
Sure, Simon Trudeau was talking about investigating his commanding officer. However, if his commanding officer is good buddies with a lower ranking officer, and the Trudeau’s commander doesn’t want the PM to investigate the other lower ranking officer who is the Trudeau to argue with a lawful command from his superior?
Don’t forget, the Canadian Forces didn’t have a Provost Marshal from about 1968 until the office of the Provost Marshal was stood up again in 1998. Prior to that, the base military police and even the Canadian Forces Special Investigations Unit were under the influence of the local chain of command. Yes, when the CFNIS was created in 1998 along with the Provost Marshal being stood back up, the idea was that the CFNIS and the base military police would operate without chain of command influence. That’s all fine and dandy, but someone forget to rewrite the National Defence Act and the Queen’s Regulations and Orders to exempt members of the CFNIS and the base military police from section 83 of the National Defence Act.
The Provost Marshal was stood up in 1998 as a result of the findings of the Somalia Inquiry. The Inquiry found that the base military police and the CFSIU were ripe for interference from the local chain of command and that superior officers would often put their own parochial interests above any semblance of justice. So it was suggested that the command of the base military police and the new CFNIS be transferred to the command of the freshly stood up Provost Marshal who would be of significant enough rank that they would be immune from chain of command influence. That hasn’t worked out.
How many wife beatings or child beatings were the base MPs and the CFSIU told to ignore and look away from?
And as I said, things were far worse back in my day as a military dependent.
As retired Warrant Officer Fred Cunningham told the CFNIS in 2016 when he was interviewed, the Assistant Judge Advocate General threw Cunningham and the CFSIU “to the dogs” in 1980 during the Captain Father Angus McRae Investigation and subsequent court martial.
When I spoke with retired Warrant Officer Fred Cunningham on November 27th, 2011 he said that it was the “brass” that made the decision to limit the number of charges brought against Captain McRae and that the military police had “many, many more” charges ready to go against McRae but that the “brass” wasn’t going for it, and that the military police tried to move the Captain McRae matter into the civilian system, but again the brass wasn’t going for it.
Most of Captain McRae’s victims were under 14 years of age. In 1980 the age of consent at which a child could agree to have sex with an adult was 14. P.S. was the only boy over the age of 14. If the Canadian Forces had insisted on prosecuting Captain McRae for abusing the children under the age of consent, this whole matter would have had to have been moved into the civilian courts. For obvious reasons the Department of National Defence and the Canadian Armed Forces were not going to ever agree to this as in the civilian courts the DND and the CF would be hard pressed to “throw a veil of secrecy” over the trial and the evidence. A trial and evidence that would have shown that Captain McRae sexually abused over 25 children on Canadian Forces Base Namao and an untold number of children on Canadian Forces Station Holberg, Canadian Forces Base Portage La Prairie, and Canadian Forces Base Kingston.
So the fact that the “brass” and the “AJAG” were able to insert themselves into a criminal matter again shows that rank in the Canadian Armed Forces carries a significant amount of weight.
And according to retired Warrant Officer Fred Cunningham it was also the Assistant Judge Advocate General that made the decision to not call in the Royal Canadian Mounted Police to deal with P.S. under the false assumption that P.S. was only 12 years old in 1980. P.S. was born on June 20th, 1965. P.S. turned 15 on June 20th, 1980. And as the court martial transcripts and the CFSIU paperwork indicate, it was the abuse of young children on base that brought P.S. to the attention of the base military police and it was that attention that brought Captin McRae to the attention of the CFSIU.
Again, the base military police and the CFSIU were not independent. They followed the whims and desires of the chain of command.
That’s why spousal abuse was grossly under reported on the bases.
That’s why child sexual abuse was grossly under reported on the bases.
That’s why child physical and mental abuse was grossly under reported on the bases.
Far too much chain of command influence and far too many parochial decisions.
Most of the children from CFB Namao never received any form of meaningful help. Some went on to have troubled lives. Some have attempted suicide. Some have committed suicide. And that’s only on CFB Namao. What about the other bases that McRae was at?
In 2010 retired Brigadier General Roger Bazin was investigated by the CFSIU for having sexually abused a young boy on Canadian Forces Base Borden in 1974. How many other kids, now adults, are out there that may have been abused on Canadian Forces Base Borden who have never come forward due to not knowing their abuser’s name? How many other former military dependents have never come forward because they were posted around so many times that they can’t remember on which base the abuse occurred on?
Our attempts at suicide and our suicides will never be recorded as being military related. Our deaths and our psychological trauma will always be written off as having been due to something unrelated to our time living on base as children.
When I die it won’t be recorded as being the end result of untreated childhood sexual trauma.
My death will simply be recorded as someone who sought Medical Assistance in Dying due to psychological issues caused by childhood trauma.
And that’s it.
There will be no mention of Captain Father Angus McRae;
There will be no mention of Captain Terry Totzke;
There will be no mention of Colonel Dan Munro
There will be no mention of AJAG J.D. Boan.
The media won’t really show any interest, because what’s interesting about one person seeking M.A.i.D. to get away from their demons?
Between 1950 and today, how many military dependents have attempted suicide, committed suicide, or have wound up with profound psychological issues due to the childhood spent living on military bases?
No one knows.
And the Department of National Defence and the Canadian Armed Forces would love for it to stay this way.
In the past there have been murmurs and burbles of organizations noticing that children of service members or adult who once were children living on base are committing suicide.
However, sadly this latest research falls well short of other research projects in the past.
The common flaw being that these researchers overlook events that occurred on base and how these events impacted the children living on the bases. This current research looks at how events that impacted service members might lead to family members of the service member committing suicide. For example, if a serving member of the Canadian Forces commits suicide and then their parent commits suicide.
However, what this research seems to completely overlook and omit are suicides or attempted suicides that came about due to events that occurred on the base that the military dependent endured first hand and received little or no support after the event or received inappropriate support.
Like it or not, children were sexually abused on base, children were physically abused on base, children were neglected on base, children were ostracized on base, children couldn’t cope with postings, children couldn’t cope with constantly losing friends, children had to deal with serving parents that had issues made worse by military service such as excessive drinking, anger outbursts, and untreated PTSD.
Persons who lived on base between the 1950s and the 2000’s grew up in a very homophobic, LGBTQ phobic, misogynistic, environment in which psychological issues were to be hidden away and not discussed.
Is it any wonder that no one in the DND, the CF, or even the media really wants to tackle this subject.
Kids who committed suicide already will forever be silent, so the DND and the CF don’t have to worry about them ever talking.
Kids who were 8 years old on base in 1950 are now in their late 70s. They won’t be around for much longer.
Kids who were 8 years old on the bases in 1970 are now pushing 58. Even if the CF and the DND were serious about tackling issues that may have effected these persons, by the time DND and the CF have finished the requisite number of committee meetings these people will easily be in their late 60s and early 70s.
So far as the Government of Canada, the DND, and the CF are concerned, military dependents were never the responsibility of the DND or the CF. As such, they’re more than willing to play the waiting game until we’re all gone.
I’ll be gone in about 2 years. And that’ll be one less issue for the DND and the CF to worry about.
I was recently told by a distant relation of the family that one of the reasons that the media may be reluctant to touch my story is because of what I desire no matter the outcome.
There has to be a good reason why the media won’t touch it.
The Canadian Armed Forces have come out and admitted that there was a problem with sexual assaults in the military for ages.
The Canadian Armed Forces have admitted that victims of sexual assault in the military were often disbelieved, humiliated, ostracized, and blamed for their own misfortune.
The Canadian Armed Forces have agreed that the Military Police, the CFSIU, and the CFNIS were often ill equipped and ill prepared to deal with sexual assault.
As I’ve said before, I view suicide as the outcome of an irrational heat-of-the-moment decision.
Medical assistance in dying is something completely different. You have to pass psychological tests and you have to be approved by a panel before you are allowed to receive a prescription for the procedure. There is no body for a caretaker or random stranger to discover. There generally are no unanswered questions. The death is supervised. The body is removed and disposed of after death is confirmed.
You’d think that the Canadian press would be very interested to hear about a matter in which recently released documents verify that the Canadian Armed Forces knew in 1980 the true extent of Captain McRae’s crimes and that the Canadian Armed Forces knew that Captain McRae had been molesting children on the other bases that he had been stationed at but refused to at the time to investigate those matters or to even offer the victims of Captain McRae any type of counselling or help.
However it looks as if my planned death is scaring the media away.
Nora Loreto recently tweeted that she had information of a police officer that walked into a detachment and then shot themselves dead. There was no news coverage of this.
This has happened recently in Ontario and there is total silence about the circumstances of the death.
Someone on the thread mentioned that a CBSA officer at Pearson International Airport committed suicide, but the media would only say that the officer was found “dead” at the airport.
This happens more often than it reaches the news… I know it was reported once in 2016 that I saw with CBSA: https://t.co/ejJk4LokOB
And as I’ve mentioned in another post, there are a significant number of suicides in British Columbia each and every year.
This is a snapshot of the BC Coroner’s report on Suicide Deaths covering the period of 2008 until 2018.
That’s 6,002 people whom died between 2008 and 2018 that the media have decided don’t exist and never did exist.
What’s scary is that this number only reflects “successful” suicides. Suicide attempts are not included.
Even more interesting is the age group that most frequently commits suicide.
The media always tells us that they’re “saving the children” by not reporting on suicides. Except it’s the 40 to 59 year olds that are committing suicide at the highest rates, not the children.
Why does the media do this?
Is it because the media doesn’t want to encourage copy-cat suicides?
I don’t think that’s entirely true.
I think it’s because the news media would have to open its eyes and realize that the there are a lot of people out there that require help. And the way our society is currently set up, there is no help available for these people and that means that society has failed its most vulnerable.
Even though I’ve only tracked down a few people from CFB Namao that were involved with the CFB Child Sex Abuse Scandal I know of 2 successful suicides, one possible suicide, and 2 attempted suicides related to the Captain Father Angus McRae matter on Canadian Forces Base Namao. That’s five people out of an estimated 25 people that Captain McRae molested on Canadian Forces Base Namao. How many others from CFB Namao did manage to commit suicide that no one knows about? How many kids did Captain McRae molest on Canadian Forces Station Holberg, Canadian Forces Base Portage La Prairie, or Canadian Forces Base Kingston? How many of those kids would go on to commit suicide later in life.
It would be safe to say that I’m not the only one who had a bad reaction to the affairs from CFB Namao. It would also seem to be correct to say that the Canadian Armed Forces didn’t know how to properly deal with the child victims of military sexual assault and that the way in which the Canadian Armed Forces did deal with the child victims of military sexual assault may have actually made the problems far worse due to the military’s penchant for victim blaming.
Maybe the media considers it a waste of time to report on my matter if I’m only going to die in the end anyways.
No.
I think there is such a stigmatism against suicide in our society that there can be no meaningful discussion of any topic when suicide is involved.
See, if I were to have kept my desire to die to myself, then more than likely the media would have reported on my story as they could cleve my eventual death from the CFB Namao sexual abuse scandal.
I could see the eventual reporting of my death:
“Mr. Bees passed away suddenly. There has been no official cause of death released. Mr. Bees if you will remember was the person who brought down the veil of secrecy that had shielded the eyes of the Canadian public from the child sexual abuse scandal that occurred on Canadian Forces Base Namao from 1978 to 1980.”
But as I’ve said, my death isn’t going to be so that I can make people feel guilty or ashamed. My death isn’t going to be so that I can get back at people. My death isn’t to cause the Canadian Armed Forces to suffer humiliation. My death will not be romantic nor will it be a cause célèbre.
My death will be because I am tired. I am burnt out. My death will be because of my desire to escape from the memories of P.S., Captain McRae, Captain Totzke, my father, a psychologically tormented childhood and adolescence, and a lifetime of confusion, self doubt, self hatred, and regret.
Ideally my death will be a private event with only the physician in attendance. Maybe a friend or two. Hopefully my death will be humane and it will be very quick.
It’s far too late to save me. That die was cast a long time ago. My life has been the consequence of chain of command decisions that were made in May to July of 1980 by officers in the Canadian Armed Forces. And I wasn’t even a member of the Canadian Armed Forces.
But it’s not too late to save those who have yet to be abused by trying to ensure that they don’t get abused. It’s also not too late to save those who will no doubt be abused by ensuring that they are believed and not blamed, and that they receive help and treatment in a timely manner instead of humiliation.
And not all of those who are or who will be abused will go on to seek death, but just because they don’t doesn’t mean that their abuse wasn’t painful nor does it mean that they don’t need help.
In June of 2011, sensing that my complaint against the babysitter P.S. from CFB Namao was going off the rails I started to try to locate proof that what P.S. had done to me on CFB Namao had some effect on me. And I remember that one of my counsellors named Terry had called me a “homosexual” because of what I had been found doing with P.S. on CFB Namao. And with both Terry and my father blaming me for allowing P.S. to molest my younger brother I knew that if I could get my hands on Terry’s paperwork that I could give this to the CFNIS and it would show them that something had occurred on CFB Namao.
I ended up getting the paperwork. Took some hunting, but eventually I obtained my foster care records from the Alberta Government. These records detailed quite a bit of information that I had obviously been oblivious to as a child.
Terry was Captain Terry Totzke a social worker with the Canadian Armed Forces.
I was found to be terrified of men, and especially terrified of my father.
I was afraid that my father was going to drown me in a toilet.
I was beyond depression and had severe anxiety issues.
My father had signed paperwork admitting me to the foster care system.
I was supposed to be placed into foster care or residential care.
I had become so emotionally disturbed that I was supposed to be placed into psychiatric care.
Richard refused to allow me to be placed on medication to help me with my major depression and my severe anxiety.
More interesting though was that my father was found
to accept no responsibility for his family,
blamed his mother for problems with my brother and I,
blamed my mother for problems with my brother and I,
expected others to solve his problems for him,
Frequently told different stories from one meeting to the next,
Was found to tell those in positions of authority what he thought they wanted to hear.
Needless to say I was beyond devastated when I read the social service paperwork.
I was able to get trauma counselling through work.
I needed help. The social service paperwork literally turned my world upside down.
Everything that Richard had told me as a kid was a lie.
We didn’t suddenly move in April of 1983 so that he could save me from the drugs the counsellors wanted to give me to make me stop kissing boys. He was fleeing the jurisdiction of Alberta so that he wouldn’t lose custody of me through the foster care / residential care system
I didn’t get expelled from school in February of 1983 for kissing a boy in class. Richard yanked me out of the school so that Alberta Social Services couldn’t apprehend me when I was off the base and in civilian jurisdiction.
In fact there’s not a single damn mention of Alberta Social Services having any concern about any apparent “homosexuality”. They were concerned about how dysfunctional my home life was, how emotionally disturbed I had become, and how indifferent my father seemed to be to helping me.
So, I got set up with professional counselling.
This counselling though wasn’t to help me with the past. It was just to help me cope in the here and now so that I could process the information that I had obtained and the information that I would no doubt keep obtaining from my quest for knowledge.
SCAPEGOAT.
Even though my counsellor wouldn’t be able to help me deal with the issues from my past he needed to understand the dynamics of back then so that he could understand why these documents were having such an impact.
In one of the sessions he asked me if I understood what a “scapegoat” was. I replied that beyond being someone blamed for somebody else’s fuckups I didn’t know too much about what a scapegoat was.
So he explained to me that in biblical times a scapegoat was a goat that was cursed with all of the sins and impurities of the village and then chased off into wilderness to carry away the sins and impurities with it.
I was my father’s scapegoat. Probably chosen because (a) I was the eldest, (b) I most resembled my mother, the woman he despised, (c) I had caused trouble for him on CFB Namao when I got molested by the babysitter.
Why did Richard need a scapegoat? The reasons are multiple:
He needed to shield himself from the blame of my brother and I being molested on CFB Namao by our babysitter.
Richard was frequently away on training exercises for 6 to 8 weeks at a time.
Even when Richard wasn’t on training exercises he was often staying off base with his various girlfriends.
Vicki in Westakawin
A woman on Canadian Forces Base Griesbach
Sue out by Londonderry Mall.
Richard was frequently absent from the house between September 1978 and August 1980.
Richard knew that his mother was an alcoholic and had issues.
Richard was an alcoholic and had issues.
So instead of my brother and I having been molested over 1-1/2 years because of Richard’s very poor parenting skills and very poor decision making, my brother was sexually abused because I allowed the babysitter to molest my younger brother. I was sexually abused because as Captain Terry Totzke said, I had a mental illness, I was a homosexual.
And over time Richard dumped his entire parenting responsibilities upon my shoulders. He even said this to Alberta Social Services, that he expected me to look after my younger brother.
When we arrived on Canadian Forces Base Downsview things started to get worse for me the more my brother started to get into trouble.
My father called me self centred for not spending more time with my brother.
My father said that it was my fault that my brother was getting into trouble because I wasn’t looking after him.
I forget exactly when, but my brother did something that ended up with Richard dragging me out of bed and laying a good beating on me. During this beating Richard made it very clear that my brother was “doing these things” because I let P.S. touch him. Yes, Richard named the babysitter himself around 1986ish.
The more trouble my brother got into, the more I got blamed and chastized for not raising him right and being a good example to him.
The counsellor asked me who my brother’s father was. I said “Richard”. Whose responsibility was it to raise your brother? “Richard?” Whose responsibility was it to discipline your brother? “Richard?” Whose responsibility was it to keep you and your brother safe from that child molester? “Richard?” Yes, Richard was his father just as Richard was my father. I didn’t impregnate my mother with my brother, so why the hell was it my responsibility to raise him and to protect him? It wasn’t. It was Richard’s responsibility. And as Richard couldn’t and wouldn’t take responsibility he needed someone to blame. I became his scapegoat. All of Richard’s failings, shortcomings, inadequacies, and fuckups became the failings, shortcomings, inadequacies, and fuckups of an 8 year old boy.
My brother has asked why he doesn’t remember Richard being like this, why he never remembers Richard blaming me for things that went wrong.
As my counsellor said, Richard only needed one scapegoat to absolve himself of any problems with his family. Marie wasn’t around, so he couldn’t blame her. He knew better than to try to blame his own mother to her face, so he couldn’t blame her, there’s no way that Sue was going to wear my brother or I. Richard couldn’t blame my younger brother as that would be absolutely batshit insane even for a clown like him.
I was Marie’s son.
I was the oldest.
I became the scapegoat by default.
Richard could carry on as the poor guy just trying his damnedest to raise his children that had been abandoned by their mother. It obviously wasn’t his fault that his sons were being sexually molested, or having psychiatric issues, or getting into trouble with the law.
Fuck no. It was Robert’s fault.
Robert wasn’t suffering psychological trauma from 1-1/2 years of sexual abuse at the hands of P.S. and Captain McRae. Robert wasn’t having psychological issues due to the unwarranted “conversion therapy” at the hands of Captain Terry Totzke. Robert wasn’t suffering psychological trauma because of his dysfunctional family. No, Robert was just “acting up” for attention.
When I had gone to visit my brother in Edmonton in the summer of 2013 we sat down for coffee in a coffee shop.
We hadn’t really talked much in the years prior. Even when he was living in the Vancouver area from the mid ’90s to the early ’00s we didn’t talk that much.
While we were talking, one thing that came up was Richard’s stinginess around birthdays and christmas.
My brother blurted out “Socks and Underwear day”.
I laughed. Not because “Socks and Underwear day” sounded funny, but because up until that point in time I had almost convinced myself that I was over exaggerating what I remembered.
It took me a while in my adult years to realize that as kids my brother hadn’t been smashing up my toys just as I hadn’t been smashing up his.
This was Richard’s go to excuse as to why he wasn’t buying us anything. We couldn’t look after our toys and we always broke our toys.
Richard always had an excuse as to why he wouldn’t buy us toys. We didn’t look after out toys. We’d break our toys. We’d take our toys apart. We wouldn’t show him gratitude for buying us toys.
When I had my first apartment in Edmonton in the fall of 1990 and I was away from Richard and I started becoming exposed to co-workers whom had families the more I began to realize that there was something terribly wrong with Richard.
I started to realize that he wasn’t buying us toys because he didn’t want to waste his money on us. And like usual, because he couldn’t take responsibility for his own decisions he had to blame others for his decisions. My brother was breaking my toys. I was breaking my brother’s. And seeing as how we couldn’t look after our stuff, neither of us would get a damn thing. I wonder if this is where our intense sibling rivalry came from.
On CFB Summerside I had a decent model railway. I don’t remember too much about it other than it fit on a sheet of 4’X8′ plywood. It was literally here one day and gone the next. Richard’s excuse always was that I smashed it apart and there wasn’t anything left of it.
In 2013 I managed to track down my mother whom I hadn’t had contact with since March of 1992. I had to track her down after the PEI courts had stated that Richard had never been awarded custody of my brother and I.
I went to see her over the 2013 xmas holidays. And I asked her about this infamous train set. She laughed when I told her that Richard had told me that I smashed the train up. Nope. Wasn’t the case. Richard had been out drinking, first at the base mess, then at the Royal Canadian Legion in town. When he came home he went downstairs into the basement with a bottle of rum. The next morning when Marie went down to get him, everything in the basement was damaged. The washer and dryer were smashed and needed replacement. Richard’s drafting table was in pieces. His work bench was in pieces. And the railway was smashed all apart.
She said that his anger and his drinking had really increased since we left CFB Shearwater and this is one of the reasons she was trying to get us back to Nova Scotia to stay with Albert Dagenais while Richard sorted out his shit.
She said that we had xmas and birthday parties before Marie left, but Richard really wasn’t into these types of events and almost felt embarrassed by them.
I don’t remember my brother having much in the way of birthdays when we were kids. I know I didn’t.
I can’t remember any birthday parties on CFB Shearwater or CFB Summerside, but that’s more to do with my age than anything. I turned 7 on CFB Namao in 1978. I can’t remember a party then.
The one and only birthday party that I do remember was when I turned 14 in 1985. I came home and there was a cake on the table. Just said “Happy Birthday” with no name. There was a card and I think $50 in it. Richard said that he knew he hadn’t been a good father, but that he was going to try harder and that he would never again forget my birthday. This was the last birthday of mine that he ever celebrated. At the time I had no idea what this party was all about. Richard told me on previous missed birthdays that I didn’t deserve a party because I was going to special school or special classes and until I smartened up and learned to behave I wasn’t getting anything.
It wouldn’t be until August of 2011 that I would learn why out of nowhere I had a birthday in 1985.
Unbeknownst to me, my family was under the supervision of the Children’s Aid Society of Toronto. We had been ever since we fled Alberta in April of 1983. Richard and Sue had a massive domestic dispute in the PMQ in August of 1985 while my brother and I were in Edmonton with our grandmother for the summer.
Not too sure what the domestic was about, but it appears that it had something to do with divorce papers.
According to the base military police it took three military police officers to bring my father under control. Even my next door neighbour Tanya said the amount of damage to the PMQ was significant. Furniture and paper out the windows. Most ground floors windows smashed out.
And that’s why I had a birthday party in September of 1985. Richard wasn’t trying to make up for having missed out on my previous birthdays. Richard was buttering me up just in case the Children’s Aid Society of Toronto found out about the domestic dispute.
Remember, CAST said in their paperwork that due to budget cuts and staffing issues they couldn’t really become too involved with my family unless they heard about issues in the home from outside agencies. And here is a massive domestic dispute. Probably also explains why the base military police didn’t want us to call 9-1-1 the next time Richard blew up and instead call base switchboard and ask for the military police. It wasn’t because the base military police could respond quicker. It’s because the Metropolitan Toronto Police would have been required to notify social services. The base military police were under no obligation to notify children’s aid. More of the “washing the laundry in house” mentality.
It was my conversations with Marie over the xmas holidays that I learnt that Uncle Doug had been buying gifts for my brother and I on Marie’s behalf and that Uncle Doug was the only reason why her gifts would show up in our house at all.
So if you’ve ever wondered why I schedule time off from work around my birthdays, this is why. My birthday is always a painful event for me. Xmas isn’t much better, but at least those are statutory holidays and I get to be alone for those.
I don’t hate xmas mass. I am atheists. I don’t believe in the invisible magical sky daddy. It just doesn’t mean anything to me. I like looking at the coloured lights and the non-over-the-top decorations. But anything beyond that I don’t get too worked up about.
Birthdays are much the same. I don’t resent people having birthdays. I do sign cards at work and I do slip $20s into the kitty, but I just find the whole idea of celebrating birthdays to be childish and immature.
Sure, maybe Grandma didn’t give Richard much in the way of xmas and birthdays when he was a kid. But that doesn’t explain why uncle Norman and uncle Doug seemed to have no problems with celebrating xmas and birthdays.
I’m going to go out on a limb here and state emphatically that Richard viewed my brother and I as remnants of Marie, and seeing as how he couldn’t punish Marie he was going to exact his revenge on Marie by proxy.
Was Richard a modern day Heathcliff?
Was Richard exacting his revenge on Marie by taking out his anger on my brother and I?
I have no doubt.
To Richard it must have been amusing watching his two kids at each other’s throats. Just proved how insane their mother was and how much he had to sacrifice to raise her hell spawn.
As I work in a hospital with a large psychiatric department, I’ve had the opportunity to ask “off the record” what the most significant cause of intense sibling rivalry is, rivalry so intense that kids have to be sent to separate schools. The most common cause? Dysfunctional parents. And no, no matter how much Richard insisted, it was not my responsibility to raise my younger brother.