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DND photo VL2009-0012-064
Up From the Ashes: The Re-Professionalization of the Canadian Forces After the Somalia Affair*
by David J. Bercuson
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On the evening of 16 March 1993, 16-year-old Shidane Arone was spotted sneaking into the Canadian compound near Belet Huen in south-central Somalia. The Canadian force stationed there – a reinforced battalion or ‘battle group’ in Canadian military nomenclature – was organized around the Canadian Airborne Regiment. It was in Belet Huen as part of UNITAF, the Unified Task Force sanctioned by the UN Security Council as a Chapter 7 mission to keep the peace in Somalia in order to allow food and other relief to be distributed. Shidane Arone’s apparent purpose in sneaking into the compound was to steal something – just about anything of value – to sell on the local black market. He was caught and incarcerated. By the next morning, he was dead – slowly and methodically beaten to death by two paratroopers. During the course of the night, about a dozen other paratroopers became aware of the beating, but no one intervened.
In the following months, one company commander was tried by a court martial and convicted – not of ordering the killing – but of encouraging the ‘Rambo-like’ atmosphere that formed the context of the killing. The two killers were charged. One – Master Corporal Clayton Matchee – tried to hang himself, but only succeeded in doing himself irreparable brain damage. The other was imprisoned for five years. One other soldier was also convicted of aiding the two killers. No one else was ever punished.1
Dozens of officers were subsequently investigated for their part in an attempted cover-up of the affair. Two investigations were conducted, one by the Canadian Forces, and the other by an independent, government-appointed commission called “The Commission of Inquiry into the Deployment of Canadian Forces to Somalia” – usually referred to as the “Somalia Commission.” Both investigations found that the Canadian Airborne Regiment had contained rogue soldiers, weak junior officers, and apathetic senior NCOs for at least two years prior to the deployment. Even so, the unit had been sent on the mission with a new battalion commander who was either unaware of, or apathetic about, a number of prior incidents of unjustified violence in and around the unit’s home base in Canada. Shocking evidence was also uncovered of brutality toward Somali civilians by members of the Regiment at Belet Huen prior to Arone’s death. The most egregious episode involved an apparent execution-style killing of a civilian during a night patrol that was little more than a hunting expedition.2
The Canadian public was shocked by the “Somalia Affair”; and the Canadian Forces was traumatized. Canadian military historians, defence analysts, and much or most of the Canadian Forces’ current leadership now view the Somalia Affair as the epitome of a loss of professionalism that afflicted the Canadian Army in particular, and which had been evident for some years before 1993. The four years following the death of Shidane Arone – from the revelations of the killing in 1993 to the publication by Minister of National Defence Douglas Young of the “Report to the Prime Minister on the Leadership and Management of the Canadian Forces” on 25 March 1997 – is today looked upon as the darkest era in the history of the Canadian military in the post Second World War era.
Canada does not have mandatory military service. Canada used conscription only twice in its history. The first time was in 1917 when the four-division Canadian Corps, with a front-line strength of some 100,000 troops, was beginning to run short of personnel. Conscription lasted for some 18 months (until the end of the war) and produced just short of 125,000 combat troops, of whom about 24,000 actually reached the Western Front. During the Second World War, a shortage of infantry created by an underestimation of potential infantry casualties before the Italian campaign, and a very high ‘tooth-to-tail’ ratio in the Canadian Army, forced the government to conscript some 40,000 reservists who had been drafted only for home defence duties. Less than 3000 of those men actually entered combat before the war ended. Thus, the great majority of the 1.7 million Canadians who fought in both world wars – and all of the 21,000 servicepersons who served in Korea – were volunteers.3
Canada has had a professional military since the 1870s. During that decade, permanent infantry, cavalry, and artillery units were first created, primarily, to instruct Canada’s part-time militia in the rapidly modernizing tactics and technologies of the late 19th Century. The professional military grew very slowly and it played only a nominal role in the First World War. The vast majority of the 600,000+ who served were volunteers, serving only for the duration of the war. The professional military formed the heart of the six-division army fielded by Canada during the Second World War, but, again, virtually all of the remainder was volunteers who served ‘for the duration.’ About two-thirds of the division-size force sent to Korea consisted of professional soldiers. For most of the Cold War, the Canadian Army consisted of four mechanized brigades, one permanently stationed in Germany, the other three garrisoned in Canada.4
From the end of the Second World War until the late 1950s, the part-time militia or reserves were twice the size of the professional army. Subsequently, the realization that reservists would probably never be deployed in a nuclear Third World War gave way to deep cuts in the reserves. By the 1960s, the professional army had ended up roughly four times the size of the reserve force. Today, reservists account for about a third of the Canadian Forces and 20 percent of the uniformed presence serving in Afghanistan.
From the end of the Korean War until the early 1990s, the Canadian Forces participated in no real sustained combat. The Canadian military’s chief mission was to prepare for the Third World War as part of NATO.5 Beginning in 1957 with the creation of the United Nations Emergency Force (UNEF) the Canadian military also deployed peacekeeping troops around the world, almost always under UN command.6 Although Canadian troops were occasionally fired upon in some of their peacekeeping venues – particularly during the Turkish invasion of Cyprus in 1974 – and more than 110 lost their lives on peacekeeping missions, none saw combat until September 1993, when a Canadian battalion fought a 36-hour battle with the Croatian Army in the Krajina region of Croatia along the Croatian/Bosnian border.7 No Canadian fatal casualties were incurred during that short encounter.
The Cold War Canadian Army focused upon technology, weaponry, and the training required to fight the opening battle of the Third World War. Rotation after rotation went to Germany, and trained to stop the Warsaw Pact forces at the Fulda Gap on the North German Plain. At the risk of generalizing and oversimplifying the situation at the time, that particular army demonstrated little or no particular interest in furthering military ethics and values, the development of a Canadian military ethos, maintaining ties with a changing Canadian society, or permanent professional development. Again, at the risk of oversimplification, there really was not anything particularly complex about facing down the Warsaw Pact – and nothing complicated about UN Chapter 6 peacekeeping missions. All Canada’s soldiers really needed to do was to practice learning how to use tanks and infantry in a land battle. The Canadian military’s leadership ‘saw the world in black and white’; nuance or independent thinking was unnecessary, perhaps even dangerous. If truly serious strategic thinking was required, the Americans and the British could do it. As one recent article written by two serving Canadian colonels observes:
Within this model, higher education had little importance. [The army] stressed training (a predictable response to a predictable situation) to the virtual exclusion of education, a reasoned response to an unpredictable situation, that is, critical thinking in the face of the unknown....this fervent anti- intellectualism denuded the officer corps of individuals capable of, or willing to undertake, analysis, critical thinking, reflection and visioning in the larger geo-political and societal context.”8
DND Photo KN2006-271-031 by Steven McQuaid
Thus, the Canadian Forces in general and the army in particular did little in the way of modern professional development, or toward raising or improving educational standards from the late 1940s to the late 1990s. A small army journal was published that rarely dealt with sophisticated issues, and it was neither independent nor refereed. There existed no formal ‘lessons learned’ process until 1995. There was a military university – the tri-service Royal Military College at Kingston, Ontario, founded in 1876 – and two two-year colleges which fed into it, one for the navy and air force on Canada’s west coast, and another for French-speaking cadets south of Montreal. The curricula at all three institutions were heavily science and engineering oriented. RMC did not achieve degree- granting status until 1959. There was also an army staff college for captains and a tri-service Canadian Forces Staff College for majors and naval equivalents destined for higher rank. In addition, there was the National Defence College of Canada. The NDC was not a true ‘war’ college, but a colloquium for discussing national defence issues among military members, civil servants, and business leaders.
More importantly, after the 1950s, war fighting increasingly ceased to be the central organizing principle of the Canadian military.9 One now much-referenced recruiting advertisement widely used by the Canadian Forces in the 1970s depicted two young officers, a man and a woman, dressed in army green, descending a staircase from a Canadian Forces Boeing 707, carrying briefcases. In contrast, today’s recruiting ads feature Canadian soldiers in desert ‘CadPad’ fatigues confronting the Taliban in Afghanistan. These adverts are captioned: “Fight with the Canadian Forces.” Times have certainly changed.
The Cold War Canadian Forces – and the army in particular – was losing touch with an increasingly vibrant, educated, and sophisticated society. And there were other problems. The system of military justice was out of line with an evolving rights-based Canadian criminal justice system. There was no recognition of the importance of military families in a military that increasingly consisted of married members, which is almost always an outgrowth of a long-standing volunteer force. Physical fitness standards fell. There was widespread drinking, alcoholism, and spousal abuse. A number of efforts to initiate reform of officer professional development, officer education, the general officer specification, and the Canadian military ethos were launched from within the military, and suggestions were made to begin the teaching of international law and ethics. However, virtually every suggestion for change was met by apathy and hostility, or was spurned as being unnecessary and time- consuming.10 Very little consideration was given to the basic question of what sort of person would seek a career, or would stay with a career, in a hide-bound, restricted military that discouraged self-advancement, undercut family life, paid very poorly, and offered virtually no intellectual nourishment – where the ultimate in professional achievement appeared to be drinking beer on the sandy beaches of Cyprus, or plowing up farmer’s fields in tracked vehicles in north-central Germany.
Certainly, the Canadian military continued throughout the Cold War to attract some very good people. Some of them were determined to raise the standards of education and professionalism. A few even put themselves through graduate school while still in uniform. A number of these individuals eventually helped to carry through some of the reforms of the post- 1997 era, or distinguished themselves in the very tough operational environment of the 1990s in Bosnia and elsewhere. But the military also attracted the type of officers and troopers who beat Shidane Arone to death, who stood around while it was happening, or who tried to cover it all up.
The Canadian military’s anti-intellectual conservatism, its rejection of reform, its failure to engage in challenging thinking – even of the basic strategic norms that disappeared as the Cold War ended – flew in the face of rapid change in Canadian society itself. In the 20-year period from, roughly, 1960 to 1980, a wave of immigration from non-European countries accelerated demands for a written charter of rights and freedoms. Feminism, student unrest, the increasingly progressive politics of the ‘baby boomers’ who were now reaching university age, and a rapidly growing percentage of Canadians attending post-secondary educational institutions, brought rapid societal change. One prominent Canadian journalist and social critic summarized this 20-year period in Canada as a move from deference to authority to defiance of authority.11 The inauguration of the Canadian Charter of Rights and Freedoms in 1982, with its catalogue of guaranteed rights and its entrenched freedoms, both epitomized and drove social and political change. But the military itself resisted the change. Degree-holding officers sank to less than 40 percent of the total establishment. Court judgments that soldiers enjoyed the same rights and protections as all other citizens under the new Charter of Rights and Freedoms were often bitterly resented in military circles. After all, many officers asked, how could discipline be maintained if soldiers actually had exactly the same rights as all other citizens?
Although the Cold War effectively ended in 1989/1990 with the implosion of the USSR, little effort was made within the military to redefine what professionalism meant in the new post Cold War, post Canadian Charter of Rights and Freedoms era. To make matters even worse in the Canadian Forces, an ongoing budget crisis of truly momentous proportions that began with the 1993 Canadian federal budget, and lasted for nearly ten years, exacerbated the growing crisis inside the military. In order to tackle the largest national debt and deficit since the immediate post Second World War era, the National Defence budget was cut by about 25 percent over a three-year time span, from $12 billion in 1993/1994, to $9.4 billion in 1998/1999. Military spending declined from around two percent of the GDP in 1990 to 1.1 percent of GDP by 1998/1999.12 The size of the Regular Force Canadian Forces was cut from 85,000 in 1990 to 60,000 by 1997. By the time the Canadian Airborne Regiment deployed to Somalia in late 1992, the Canadian Forces was in deep trouble – overtasked, undermanned, short of funds, and well behind the times.
DND photo 069-IMG0036
It is sometimes said that real military reform is inevitably rooted in the desire of the civil authority to improve military effectiveness – despite the military itself. Numerous examples can be cited, from the creation of the armies of revolutionary France, to the re-ordering of the Prussian military after the beginning of the 18th Century, to the British army reforms of the post Boer War era, and to the Goldwater-Nichols reforms of the US military in the post Vietnam war era. History seems to indicate that the very nature of militaries precludes the sort of deep inner examination and root questioning of basic principles that military reform sometimes requires. It cannot be carried out by institutions that are deeply rooted in tradition and that are innately conservative.13 Armed forces, after all, seek to create order for their members in the most disordered activity that humankind carries out – namely confrontation and combat.
This certainly was true in the case of the Canadian Forces, which, at first, launched its own investigation of the circumstances surrounding the death of Shidane Arone with a Board of Inquiry headed by retired Major-General Tom de Faye. Composed of both military members and civilian experts, the Board report pointed to much deeper malaises in the army, but noted that its investigation had been limited both by resources and by its mandate. That prompted the government to commission the Somalia Inquiry, presided over by Gilles Létourneau, a judge of the Federal Court of Canada, which held extensive hearings from early 1995 until the early autumn of 1996. The Somalia Inquiry was extensively covered by the media; all its public sessions were televised. It examined all aspects of the mission in minute detail, and it made constant headlines, not only for its revelations but also by its constant demand for access to documents from the Canadian Forces’ high command.
During the approximately 16 months that the Somalia Inquiry conducted its affairs, the Canadian military was dissected in public. It suffered no lower moment than when the incumbent Chief of the Defence Staff, an air force general, squirmed on the witness stand and attempted to deflect the blame for failure to produce documents to his personal staff.
As former Canadian Army Commander Lieutenant-General Mike Jeffrey recently declared, this was the moment when the professionalism of the Canadian military was, effectively, suspended. One of the main attributes of a profession is the ability to fairly and objectively govern itself. When the government appointed the Somalia Commission, it effectively suspended that condition of the profession of arms in Canada. But the Somalia Commission marked just the beginning of a period of intense government scrutiny and guidance that lasted, in part, until 2003. When Douglas Young was named Minister of National Defence in the summer of 1996, he was personally convinced that if the close public examination of the Canadian Forces by the Somalia Commission continued indefinitely, as it appeared to be doing, then the Commission itself, and not the government, would be setting the agenda for the future of the Canadian Forces. He was determined not to let that happen. Although the Commission’s work was far from completed, he terminated the inquiry in the late summer of 1996, ordered it to report within a year, and then personally set to work to tackle reform in the Canadian Forces.
Young began by appointing a Special Advisory Group on Military Justice and Military Police Investigation Services, headed by a former Chief Justice of the Supreme Court of Canada, Brian Dickson. Dickson was asked to report by the end of January 1997 on how to thoroughly reform the military justice system in Canada. He also commissioned four experts – three Canadian military historians, and one political scientist – to report within the same time frame on what they believed was wrong in the Canadian Forces, and what ought to be done about it.14 On 25 March 1997, Young issued a report to the prime minister, which included 65 recommendations of his own and 35 recommendations from the Dickson Commission. All 100 recommendations were accepted by the prime minister, and work was initiated to bring them to fruition.
Young’s recommendations came down heavily in favour of almost totally revamping the education and professional development systems for both officers and senior non-commissioned officers. Officers were henceforth to be degree holders. The military education curriculum was to be revised, an independent professional military journal was to be established, an ombudsman – working outside the chain of command – was to be appointed, work was to begin on defining a Canadian Forces’ ethos, and the Canadian Forces Staff College was to broaden and to liberalize its educational offerings.
Other recommendations were sweeping. They touched upon virtually all aspects of Canadian military life. Later in 1997, the Somalia Commission issued its own report with additional recommendations on training, mission preparation, the teaching of ethics and values within the context of international law to all deploying soldiers, and elevation of standards for officer education and professional development. Most of its recommendations were also accepted by the government. Following that report, a new Minister of National Defence, Art Eggleton, appointed the Minister of National Defence’s Committee to Monitor Change in the Canadian Forces and the Department of National Defence, and handed it more than 300 recommendations from the Young Report, the Dickson Report, the Somalia Commission Report, and a commission that had investigated the restructuring of the Canadian reserves. The Monitoring Committee was given a mandate to oversee the implementation of those recommendations by the Canadian Forces and the Department of National Defence. This committee, which publicly reported twice a year to the minister, sat for six years. It had no power to implement anything – but its ability to get at information, to hold in camera hearings, to speak to troops out of hearing of officers and even senior NCOs, and then to publicly report – was crucial in keeping the Canadian Forces on the path to reform. The Monitoring Committee warned in one of its earliest reports that it was not interested in having the military ‘check off boxes’ in regard to implementing recommendations for change, but, rather, in seeking out evidence of ‘strategic’ change in the military and the department.
The initial reaction of the Canadian Forces on the whole was predictable; it resisted change. It resented civilians telling it what it ought to do. It rejected the need for revamping the professional development system. Its membership reiterated long-held beliefs that formal higher education was in no way a necessary prerequisite to officer selection and training. It attempted to ‘staff’ many of the recommendations – to delay them or to bury them – or to convince its ‘civilian masters’ that there was little substance to Monitoring Committee conclusions and certainly no resources to carry out many of the recommendations. But the government, to its credit, stuck it out for six years, and many younger officers – and some very senior ones – knew change had to come. As General Jeffery has put it: “The army was forced to change...I mean forced” due to the institutional failures revealed by the Somalia Affair.15
And it has. Not just the army, but the entire Canadian Forces at first crawled, then wandered, then stumbled, but eventually began to march forward with determination to a new professionalism rooted in the history and values of Canadian society, based upon a fighting ethos, with a democratic ethic and with one of the best-educated officer corps of any armed forces anywhere.
DND photo KN2008-638-012 by Brad Lowe
Here is how it happened.
The process began in late 1997 with the start of a major revamp of the curriculum of the Royal Military College. A newly appointed Board of Governors of RMC commissioned a report by former Chief of the Defence Staff General (retired) Ramsey Withers that called for, among other things, a compulsory and significant dose of arts, humanities, and social sciences education for all officer cadets, including those studying science and engineering.16 The then-fledgling RMC War Studies program, offering masters degrees via distance learning, was expanded nationwide and even worldwide, using a variety of techniques and technologies. The Canadian Forces College introduced major new courses in both national security studies and strategic studies as part of its compulsory staff training, and it began to hire young PhD graduates to teach and to design an expanded curriculum. Eventually, it initiated a non-academic (i.e. professional) Master of Defence Studies degree for officers with undergraduate degrees who opt for this program as an addition to their staff college training.17 Entrance to and graduation from the Master of Defence Studies program is competitive. Of those holding the rank of captain and above, over 90 percent of officers in the Canadian Forces today hold university degrees; and over 50 percent hold a graduate degree. The average for lieutenants and sub-lieutenants, which includes a larger number of reservists who have been promoted from the ranks without degrees, is still over 80 percent.18 Formal education is now taken into consideration as a major factor in career advancement and command appointment.
In 1999, a Special Advisor to the Chief of the Defence Staff, Lieutenant-General Romeo Dallaire, was appointed with a mandate to operate outside the chain of command to completely revise requirements for commissioned officers and for general officer specifications. A Statement of Requirement was developed entitled Officership in the 21st Century. Other capstone documents were developed for the non-commissioned ranks. In 2003, Duty With Honour: The Profession of Arms in Canada was published, which defined the military profession in Canada as having four attributes: responsibility, expertise, identity, and professional ideology.19 A defence ethics program was created that produced a Statement of Defence Ethics, which is now required learning for all military members. And the law of armed conflict is now taught at all levels of training and professional development. In addition, a professional military journal began publication in 2000 with an independent editorial board. Conferences, seminars, and workshops on virtually all aspects of the military profession are now regular features of what has become a vibrant intellectual life within the Canadian military. A Canadian Forces Leadership Institute was established in 2002, with a mandate to conduct research on virtually all aspects of military leadership, while the Canadian Defence Academy was established in the same year under the command of a rear-admiral to oversee all formal military education in the Canadian Forces.
Quality of life has also improved considerably since the Young Report. There have been major increases in pay and benefits, and in non-taxable bonuses for hazardous deployments. The Ombudsman’s office has handled, and resolved, hundreds of grievance cases outside the chain of command.20 The Ombudsman reports regularly, and publicly, to the Chief of the Defence Staff, while the Chief is required to report annually, and publicly, to the Minister of National Defence. Family life has been improved through the establishment of Military Family Resource Centres, and by taking into consideration spousal career and life requirements when considering areas such as promotion and mission assignments.
With the 9/11 attacks and the beginning of Canadian ground force deployments to Afghanistan – first in February 2002 in Kandahar province, then in August 2003 to Kabul as part of ISAF, and finally in early 2006 back to Kandahar – the transformation of the modern Canadian Forces was at hand. The defence budget has been increased every year since 2002, and it is now some 30 percent greater than it was at the end of the 1990s. It will rise from the present $13 billion per year to between $30 and $50 billion per year by 2030. New equipment, such as Nyalas, M-777s, and Leopard 2 A6 tanks, has been quickly acquired for the army in Afghanistan. Boeing C-177 Globemaster IIIs have been purchased for the air force. Lockheed C-130Js have been ordered. Heavy-lift helicopters and a second-generation UAV are now in operational service. A thoroughly modern and computerized Canadian Maneuver Training Centre has been opened, and all battle groups bound for Afghanistan are cycled through its facilities. The Army Lessons Learned Centre now deploys Lessons Learned teams to Kandahar, and it has streamlined its procedures to such an extent that, in some cases, the time from an enemy-induced incident occurring in Afghanistan, to changes being implemented to training and doctrine, and then those changes being brought back to the field is as little as five days.21
DND photo VL2009-0012-11
Although Canadian ground forces entered the war against the Taliban in February 2002, it was not until February 2006 that serious and continuous confrontation began in Kandahar province. In the last 28 months, 74 Canadians have been killed, and another 400 or so have been wounded in action against the enemy. It is Canada’s first active war since Korea. Virtually all the changes that have been made to restore professionalism in the Canadian Forces occurred before Canada entered the war in Afghanistan, and that war has taken a significant toll of the defence budget. It has also greatly increased operational tempo and put more pressure on virtually all military members and most of the army’s equipment than at any time since the 1950s. Thus, the real test of all these reforms in leadership, education, and quality of life – the regeneration of professionalism – comes now, when the army and the Canadian Forces are at war. Will the Canadian Forces pass the test?
DND photo ISD01-0069a
A recent conference held at the University of Calgary summing up the decade of change was closed by Lieutenant-General (ret’d) Mike Jeffery – a man who made it to the top of his service without a formal degree at a time when that could still be done. In the late 1990s and the early 2000s, Mike Jeffery was one of the strongest advocates of reform in the Canadian Forces. He put the challenge the CF faces today in the following words: “As I look back over the past ten years I am reminded of that old saying ‘that which doesn’t destroy us makes us stronger’....The challenge for the Canadian Forces leadership today – indeed, for all of us – is to not squander the experience and the gains made and to continue to advance the improvements in professionalism and professional development within the Canadian Forces.”22 The deep pride in and respect for the Canadian Forces that the vast majority of Canadians now express – greater than at any time over the last 20 years23 – will prove a powerful impetus to the CF to continue to maintain the highest professional standards possible.
David J. Bercuson is Director, Centre for Military and Strategic Studies, University of Calgary, and Senior Research Fellow, Canadian Defence and Foreign Affairs Institute. One of Canada’s most respected historians, Doctor Bercuson was appointed an Officer of the Order of Canada in 2003.
* This paper was presented to “The Decline of Citizen Armies in Democratic States: Processes and Implications”, a conference organized by the Begin-Sadat Center for Strategic Studies, Bar-Ilan University, Tel Aviv Israel, June 18-19, 2008. The conference theme was the military and social implications of the decline of conscript armies in democracies.
- This story has now been told in several books. See Grant Dawson, “Here is Hell”: Canada’s Engagement in Somalia (Vancouver: UBC Press, 2007); Bernd Horn, Bastard Sons: An Examination of Canada’s Airborne Experience, 1942-1995 (St. Catherines, ON: Vanwell Press, 2001); David Bercuson: Significant Incident; Canada’s Army, the Airborne and the Murder in Somalia (Toronto: McClelland & Stewart, 1996).
- Bercuson, Significant Incident, pp. 235-238.
- Jack Granatstein, Canada’s Army: Waging War and Keeping the Peace (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 2002).
- Sean M. Maloney, War Without Battles: Canada’s NATO Brigade in Germany, 1951-1993 (Toronto: McGraw-Hill Ryerson, 1997.
- For one of the best examples of the career of a peacekeeper, see Lewis Mackenzie, Peacekeeper: The Road to Sarajevo (Toronto; Douglas & McIntyre, 1993).
- D.J. Bercuson, The Patricias; The Proud History of a Fighting Regiment (Toronto, Stoddart, 2001), pp. 295-298; Carol Off, The Ghosts of Medak Pocket: The Story of Canada’s Secret War (Toronto: Random House Canada 2004).
- Bill Bentley and Bernd Horn, “The Road to Transformation: Ascending from the Decade of Darkness,” in Canadian Military History, Vol. 16, No. 4, Autumn 2007, p. 36.
- Mike Jeffery, address to the “Forced to Change” Conference, University of Calgary, 1 February 2008. Courtesy of the speaker.
- Ronald G. Haycock, “The Labours of Athena and the Muses: Historical and Contemporary Aspects of Canadian Military Education,” in Canadian Military Journal, Vol. 2, No. 2, Summer 2001, pp. 5-22.
- Peter Newman, The Canadian Revolution: 1985-1995 (Toronto, Viking, 1995).
- Bland et al.; at DND Website, <http://www.forces.gc.ca/site/Reports/budget05>.
- See the Foreword of Colonel John C. Studt in William S. Lind, Maneuver Warfare Handbook (Boulder, CO: Westview Press, 1985). On US reform after Vietnam, see James Kitfield, Prodigal Soldiers (New York: Simon and Schuster, 1995).
- The four were Dr. David J. Bercuson, Dr. Albert Legault, Dr. Jack Granatstein, and Dr. Desmond Morton. Legault is a political scientist studying international relations. Morton and Granatstein are RMC graduates.
- Horn and Bentley, p. 41.
- RMC Board of Governors, Report to the Board of Governors by the Withers’ Study Group, “Balanced Excellence: Leading Canada’s Armed Forces in the New Millenium.”; John Scott Cowan, “RMC and the Profession of Arms: Looking ahead at Canada’s Military University,” Canadian Military Journal, Vol. 2, No. 3, Autumn, 2001, pp. 5-12.
- R.D. McIlroy, “The Strategic Think Tank – Restructuring the Canadian Forces College...,” Canadian Military Journal, Vol. 8, No. 4, Winter 2007-2008, pp. 89-94.
- Figures provided by DND, ADM HR (MIL).
- Horn and Bentley, p. 44.
- André Marin, “The DND/CF Ombudsman: Five Years Later, “Canadian Military Journal, Vol. 4, No. 3, Autumn 2003, pp. 35-41; “Ombudsman White Paper”, Office of the Ombudsman, Ottawa, 30 March 2005.
- Briefing note: “Army Learning Process”, 28 March 2008, provided to the author by Captain C.I. Clark, Staff Officer Coordination, Army Lessons Learned Centre.
- Lieutenant-General (ret’d) Mike Jeffery, address to the “Forced to Change” Conference, University of Calgary, 1 February 2008.
- Environics Poll for the Canadian Defence Public Affairs Council, 8 June 2007.