Polyus Studios
Published 8 May 2021Don’t forget to like the video and subscribe to my channel!
Support me on Patreon – https://www.patreon.com/polyusstudiosThe multi-role CF-5 was intended to replace the nuclear-armed CF-104 Starfighter and CF-101 Voodoo squadrons with a conventional warfighter. However, as an air superiority fighter, it was useless against all but the oldest relics in the Warsaw Pact arsenal. It fared little better as a close air support tactical fighter, thanks to its short range, relatively small weapons load, lack of all-weather navigation, and its inability to survive in a sophisticated, integrated air defense environment. Despite this, 240 were built in Canada and served with the Canadian Armed Forces for 27 years, not as a replacement for the existing fleet, but as an addition to them no one in the military seemed to really want. So why did Canada operate the CF-5? As you might well have assumed, the story behind the acquisition and operation of the CF-5 is a complicated one.
(more…)
August 16, 2022
Nimble, Sleek, And Almost Useless In A Real Fight; the story of the Canadair CF-5 Freedom Fighter
June 27, 2022
It’s not clear where the money will come from to fund the recently announced NORAD upgrades
Aside from sticking knives in the backs of political critics, Justin Trudeau’s government loves announcing new programs and additional spending more than anything else. The boring, workaday details like actually implementing the newly announced programs … well, that sometimes gets forgotten in the rush to make new announcements. In this case, the recent announcement that Canada will be spending Cdn$4.9 billion to upgrade our contribution to NORAD for continental defence — and to no real surprise for anyone who’s been paying attention — it’s not clear even to the head of the Canadian Armed Forces just where that money is actually supposed to come from:
Canada’s defence chief says he doesn’t yet know where the money is coming from for $4.9 billion in promised upgrades to NORAD radar and surveillance systems.
In an interview with The West Block‘s Mercedes Stephenson, Gen. Wayne Eyre was asked about growing questions facing the government to detail their spending plan on NORAD upgrades.
Sources have told Global News the military is uncertain about where the funds are coming from, and that there are meetings happening at the department trying to determine how much of the money is new. Those sources say there are significant concerns that the money may not be new, and may need to be re-capitalized from within the existing defence budget.
“I haven’t completely figured out myself the source of funds for this,” Eyre said.
“So I can’t say definitively where it’s coming from. I will say, though, the announcement was welcome.”
Eyre was also asked whether the military is planning any departmental cuts in order to be able to allocate $4.9 billion to the NORAD upgrades.
“We haven’t looked at cutting. But as always, we have to look at rebalancing,” he said.
“The force that we have today is not the force that we need to support tomorrow. So we need to look at force structure. Do we have it in the right place? Do we need to look at rerolling of units so that they undertake roles that are more relevant for the future security environment? That is all important.”
Global News has asked for clarity on the question to Defence Minister Anita Anand’s office.
No answer has yet been received.
May 10, 2022
Canadian Armed Forces considering banning Islamic, Jewish, and Christian chaplains for their racist, misogynistic, and bigoted beliefs
When an organization goes woke, there’s no halfway measures … it’s all-woke, all the time. Recently the Canadian Armed Forces received a report that could result in current chaplains being forced to resign their commissions because their religious beliefs “are not aligned with those of the Defence Team”. One wonders how future recruiting efforts will go with believing members of those faith-based communities who are potentially going to be explicitly described as “racist, misogynistic, and bigoted”:
Calling other parties racist in the House of Commons is bad. Calling whole religions and their adherents racist, misogynist and bigoted is worse
And yet, this government is being called to support one of the most egregious examples of anti-religious sentiment I have ever seen in Canada, and it was published by the Minister of National Defence Advisory Panel on Systemic Racism and Discrimination. This document is supposed to advise the Canadian Armed Forces on racism and discrimination in the military and, if the government were to follow through on its recommendations, it would effectively disqualify chaplains from Canada’s largest faith groups.
In its final report, this panel recommends that the military should “not consider for employment as spiritual guides or multi-faith representatives Chaplaincy applicants affiliated with religious groups whose values are not aligned with those of the Defence Team.”
As you read the document, it quickly becomes clear that their understanding of “values” appear to be completely ignorant of the actual practice of the very religions they defame. Yet the report would disqualify clergy from — at the very least — the three major Abrahamic religions (Judaism, Islam, and Christianity) under the grounds that these faiths are inherently discriminatory.
Not content to deal with actual cases of misogyny, sexism and discrimination, the government’s panelists have taken a go at determining which beliefs and philosophies are acceptable in Canada’s new modern military.
“The Advisory Panel has observed that there are varying degrees of misogyny, sexism, and discrimination woven into the philosophies and beliefs of some mainstream religions currently represented in the cadre of chaplains in the CAF,” the report says.
Then it gets worse.
April 2, 2022
Lessons from Operation Unifier — Canada’s military training mission in Ukraine (2015-present)
In The Line, Paul Wells talks to Lieutenant Colonel Melanie Lake, Royal Canadian Engineers, who commanded Operation Unifier from March to September, 2021:
Lake has had a hell of a career, as high-ranking soldiers usually have, though I cover soldiers rarely enough that I always manage to be surprised. She’s from Churchill Falls, Labrador and has a degree in chemical engineering from the Royal Military College. She served three tours in Afghanistan, including one collecting HUMINT, or human intelligence — interviewing Afghans in Kandahar for information on the insurgency. Later she led an explosives-clearance operation at Winisk, ON, way up north on Hudson Bay, where a DEW Line outpost had been shut down so quickly in the 1960s that large quantities of TNT had been left buried too close to the ground for comfort. This involved a lot of camping and trying to figure out how to explode only those parts of the landscape they wanted to explode, while trying not to explode one another. Canadian Forces Rangers worked with Lake’s team, keeping polar bears away. She really is a problem solver.
Lake confirmed both of my hunches about Op Unifier, at least in part. She sees a Ukrainian army that is performing well for specific important reasons, and a Russian army that is having serious trouble its commanders should have expected. She does think she and her colleagues in Op Unifier and other Western training missions — the United States, United Kingdom and Lithuania — can take some satisfaction in contributing to the substantial improvement of the Ukrainian defence effort since 2014. But she was careful to put a low ceiling over that effect.
“Certainly what the training missions provided have helped,” she said. “But I want to be really careful about taking credit for the performance that we’re seeing right now. We can’t teach courage. And [the Ukrainians] are showing that in spades.”
Where did training help? “The area where I think we had a really big influence is in helping them understand or institutionalize the idea of mission command. And decentralized decision-making — pushing authority and decision-making power down to lower levels. And helping them build a professional senior NCO corps. Those are things that, you know, when you look at the old Soviet system were certainly non-existent.”
Let’s unpack this. “Mission command” is a term of art in Western militaries. It holds commanders, down to quite junior levels, accountable for results while leaving them wide latitude to decide methods. How junior? “Senior NCO” refers to sergeants — career soldiers who’ve risen from the enlisted ranks and who are responsible for a section, which is between 6 and 20 soldiers. Canadian doctrine, American doctrine, NATO standards dictate that it should be routine for higher echelons to trust a section sergeant to figure out how to accomplish a task, and that’s something the Canadians have passed on to their Ukrainian colleagues.
The Russians haven’t built that trust into their system. This is an understatement. “A lot of what you’re seeing on the Russian side — you know, we keep talking about these general officers who are getting picked off, because they’re so far forward. They have no decentralized decision-making and their communication chain is breaking down. So you’ve got these generals going forward, way too far forward, trying to sort things out. And they’re just getting picked off left, right and centre. So training matters. Training matters an awful lot.”
To an Ottawa political reporter in the Trudeau era, there is a metaphor here as big as a billboard about what happens when too much decision-making is too centralized. But maybe just this once, I’ll resist the urge to jump in, more than I just did, and I’ll let Lake keep telling her story.
March 18, 2022
Jean Charest tries to position himself as the pro-military Conservative leadership candidate
Canadian politicians — generally speaking — are unwilling to tread too far into discussions of the Canadian Armed Forces and the utter disaster that is our federal government’s procurement “process”. There are lots of good, electoral reasons for this: Canadians have been propagandized over the last two generations to see Canada as a country with no real enemies and having no need of military force except for overseas peacekeeping and disaster relief. Any identified need for new equipment or even just updated replacements for existing capabilities is always a politically dangerous discussion, as it’s remarkably easy to get public support for almost any non-military spending instead of anything even vaguely warlike. Worse, on those few occasions when the government of the day bites the bullet to buy new ships/tanks/planes/helicopters/etc., the top priority isn’t military effectiveness or even lowest-price but where the money will be spent. Bidders for Canadian military contracts can’t just crank off a few extra units of the weapon or vehicle on existing production lines (which in almost every case would be both militarily better and economically cheaper): the government almost always demands new, expensive production facilities be constructed in Canada or for the foreign supplier to “partner” with an existing Canadian company to produce as much in Canada as possible.
This procurement charade usually means the Canadian Forces end up with far fewer weapons or vehicles because the increased costs of partial or complete production in Canada gobble up far more of the allocated budget. For example, back in 2017, we purchased a batch of new machineguns. It was the same model already in use with the Canadian army and with many of our NATO allies. If we’d just bought from one of the foreign manufacturers who already had production lines and tooling set up, each gun would have cost between US$6,000 and US$9,000 depending on configuration. But because we insisted on having Colt Canada set up a new production line, each weapon ended up costing C$28,000!
Multiply this across the entire range of equipment needed by the Canadian Army, the Royal Canadian Navy, and the Royal Canadian Air Force, and it’s quickly obvious that we’re running one of the least efficient military procurement systems in human history. And even on a domestic spin-off/job creation/vote buying spectrum, it’s insanely expensive and wasteful.
All of that out of the way, here’s Conservative leadership hopeful Jean Charest deliberately touching one of the “third rails” of Canadian politics by proposing an increase in funding for the military:
Our military procurement system is broken. For years experts have been warning about our incompetence at making major defence purchases. The past few weeks have shown us the price of our inaction.
While our allies, the United States, the United Kingdom and Australia, have entered into a new security pact to counter China in the Pacific, Canada wasn’t even invited to the table.
Germany, Sweden, and other NATO allies promise to increase their military spending to prepare for the uncertain times ahead. Canada has a moral responsibility to act. Now is the time.
If elected as the leader, my Conservative government will make significant changes and upgrades to our nation’s military capabilities. I will move quickly to ramp up Canadian defence spending to two percent of GDP, increase personnel to 100,000 and equip our forces for the challenging times ahead. I will modernize our cyber security infrastructure to prepare for future risks. And I will fix our embarrassing procurement system to ensure we get the equipment we desperately need.
The current conflict has also driven home the need to assert our sovereignty, especially in our North. As major sea lanes, essential to global trade and export of our natural resources, open within our arctic territory, we must be on high alert to Russian and Chinese encroachment. Neither recognizes our sovereignty there. In fact, no one really recognizes our sovereignty there and the imbalance in our military investments compared to our allies explains why that’s the case.
The war in Ukraine is a cruel reminder of why we cannot ignore these threats. Russia has a modern military base in the arctic — another area where indecision and delay could be extremely costly unless addressed.
A proud Canada must assert its sovereignty in the North and generate military support through major investments in equipment and coordination with our NATO allies. We need to get our act together.
The threats remain real and demand immediate attention from leaders willing to act in the best interests of their respective nations.
Canadians need experience and expertise overseeing our military. We need a government that supports our military.
March 17, 2022
The “Three-Block”, “Four-Block”, or “n-Block” war
In The Line, Andrew Potter explains the genesis of the original “Three-Block War” idea and how a Canadian general tried to put theory into practice:
In 1999, a US Marine general named Charles Krulak wrote a piece in which he claimed that the future of combat for the Marines would be in urban environments in failed or failing states. In these situations, front line infantry might be doing humanitarian relief in one part of the city, performing peacekeeping duties in another, while doing intense urban combat in a third. He called this the “Three Block War“. Figuring out how to prepare and train for this scenario would be the central military challenge of the 21st century.
While the Three Block War was picked up and booted around as an interesting idea, it was never formalized into Marine doctrine. But one person who did take it seriously was Rick Hillier, the former head of the Canadian military who brought it into the Canadian forces when he took over as chief of the land staff in 2003, arguing that the Three Block War in failed and failing states was the future of warfare. He wanted a CAF that was trained and kitted out for this reality. When he became Chief of the Defence Staff in 2005, Hillier kept pushing this idea on Paul Martin and the Liberals, who loved his “vision” and firm sense of priority-setting.
In Hillier’s hands, the Three Block War concept was a disaster. Some American analysts blamed the strategy for Canada’s elevated casualty rates in Kandahar. The concept also came under considerable scrutiny from Canadian military analysts. In a highly critical paper, Walter Dorn and Michael Varey described the three block war idea as “fatally flawed“. While the Three Block War concept might have served as a useful description of a certain type of tactical reality (amplified maybe by a few too many viewings of Black Hawk Down), as a strategic concept it had a number of problems. For example, it wasn’t clear how it would apply to other armed services, or to theatres other than urban centres. It seemed to threaten the specificity of mandate and mission that is crucial to military operations. It clearly ran the risk of “block inflation” — why not throw governance, economic development, general nation building, and anything else you think you can get the military to do into the hopper? Indeed, in 2005 General James Mathis co-authored a piece proposing the concept of the four block war, which added psychological and information operations to the mix.
Ultimately, Dorn and Varey were concerned that crucial distinctions central to warfare were being elided. As they put it, the whole point of doctrine is to make a clear delineation between things that are “war” and things that are “not war”, and the Three Block War threatens to make everything into a type of war.
Two decades later the verdict is in, and it looks like everyone was right. When it comes to the tactical environment, people like Krulak, Hillier, and Mathis were more prescient than they might ever have imagined, at least if Ukraine is any template for how modern warfare is evolving. Yet at the same time, everything the critics of the Three Block War concept worried about has also come to pass: the confusion of mission and mandates, the endless proliferation of “blocks”, and most seriously, the assimilation of everything, and everyone, into “war”.
In his original article, Krulak argued that the reality of the Three Block War meant that any local engagement or interaction could have repercussions on the mission as a whole. For example, if a squad of Marines based in a “peacekeeping” block of the city gets jumpy and opens fire on a civilian truck carrying humanitarian aid (and not a truck bomb), that could have serious impacts for the entire strategic effort. And so he coined the notion of the “strategic corporal”, a front line soldier who would have the training, judgement, and moral fibre to do his or her job in a way that would always support strategic objectives.
March 15, 2022
For military procurement blunders, “no nation has mastered the ability to step on every bloody rake quite as well as Canada”
Germany has announced that they will be purchasing US F-35 stealth fighters as part of their re-armament program. My favourite headline on this was over at Blazing Cat Fur: “Germany To Buy 35 Lockheed F-35 Fighter Jets From U.S. Amid Ukraine Crisis … Canada Will Buy Cool ‘Fighter Jet Stickers’ With Eco-Friendly Adhesive”
On a more serious tone — but with sadly the same basic message — Mitch Heimpel looks at the multi-generational rolling catastrophe that is Canadian military procurement since the unification of the forces in 1968:
To say we have a checkered history with military procurement, fails to capture exactly how bad it is. Our political leadership has failed us continually over the course of half a century. No party has done it well. Some have done it better than others. But no one can claim any kind of bragging rights.
Fighter jet procurement in this country is so fraught it once caused the birth of a new political party. Trying to buy helicopters helped bring down a government. We only successfully bought those helicopters after they [the old helicopters] became a greater danger to the personnel manning them than they were to any potential adversary. We have been running a procurement for the next generation of fighter jets for an entire generation. Even Yes, Minister writers would have given up on something that absurd.
Our submarine fleet seems to be almost permanently in dry dock. Our most recent ship procurement resulted in the absolutely monstrous prosecution of one of the country’s most accomplished military leaders.
And we just issued a revised bid to finally replace our Second World War-era pistols … last week.
Just cataloguing that level of incompetence is exhausting. No leader or party looks good. The civil service, as the one constant through all these cartoonish blunders, surely has to wear some of this, too. The fact that we seem to repeat the same mistakes can, at least in part, be attributed to a significant institutional memory failure on the part of the people trusted with having the institutional memory.
Now, it is worth noting in fairness that no nation has an easy time with large scale military procurement. Ask the Americans about the development of the V-22 sometime. But, still, no nation has mastered the ability to step on every bloody rake quite as well as Canada.
I’m not a hardware expert. I can’t tell you which pistol we should buy. There’s also genuine policy questions here that need to be settled — I don’t know whether we should focus on the navy because we’re an Arctic nation, or the air force because it allows us to participate more readily in allied force projection exercises — like, say, no-fly zones? The necessary mix for Canada is no doubt some of both, and it’s fine to have disagreements between parties on what the right mix is.
But setting that aside, I want to talk about what it would take politically, to get us to start taking procurement seriously — just a few basic rules that any government would need to follow to procure anything that they chose was important for Canada to have.
February 27, 2022
Canada couldn’t intervene in a modern war even if we wanted to
In The Line, Matt Gurney considers the state of the Canadian Armed Forces, which have been systematically starved of resources since, oh, 1968 (we started cashing in the “peace dividend” long before there was one):
We assumed that we’d never need the heavy, nasty stuff — history had ended. We cut our budgets and our force levels again and again, until many of our critical capabilities really exist on paper only. Canada’s fighter jet fleet of alarmingly elderly CF-18s is large enough to technically meet the requirements of keeping a few jets on alert for NORAD missions, intercepting the odd plane near our airspace, and showing the flag on NATO missions. We can even hurl some bombs on enemy groups that are annoying us, as we did with the Islamic State, because, well, they can’t shoot back. Our navy is much the same: we have a fleet large and capable enough to more-or-less patrol parts of our own coast and contribute to the odd international patrol mission abroad, because doing so buys us some diplomatic credibility — it is table stakes for being a sorta-paid-up member of the Western alliance. Our army has enough men and equipment to help out with domestic missions at home or to contribute in small missions to broader coalition efforts, though it’s a struggle to do both at the same time. That’s basically all we assumed we’d need, and we “rationalized” our budget and capabilities accordingly.
Again, yes, this made sense for a time. But it was obvious a decade or so ago — around when Obama was mocking Romney — that China was a power on the rise. Russia invaded Ukraine the first time in 2014. That was another wakeup call we ignored. For the last decade, certainly for the last five years, we’ve indulged in a kind of make-believe defence policy planning, where we were enthralled to an increasingly obsolete and dangerous post-Cold War mindset that was as narrow and misguided as the “Cold War thinking” the soft-power advocates of the post-1991 era disdained among the old guard.
We defence hawk weirdos who sweated blood with each abandoned capability were right, though. History wasn’t over. We hadn’t seen the end of great power war, or at least the real danger of it. The world is a dangerous place. This might be a surprise in the corridors of power in Ottawa, but it’s not like they weren’t warned. I’ve got 15 years of National Post bylines to prove it.
We are missing critical capabilities that our troops would need — need — in order to not get wiped out in a conflict with a relatively modern opponent. The Canadian Army has very good armoured vehicles for infantry. That’s good! Our LAVs are genuinely excellent. But we don’t have self-propelled artillery. We have only a few dozen tanks, and very little anti-tank missile capability (anti-tank missiles can be fired by infantry on foot or from vehicles; we don’t have a ton of missiles to go around in any case). Recruitment has lagged, and we are notoriously slow at actually processing an applicant into service. Perhaps most alarmingly in the current context, the Canadian military has basically zero air defence capability. If under air attack by helicopters, attack aircraft or, increasingly, drones, our guys could fire wildly into the air and hope to get lucky. That’s about it.
It’s a classic Canadian procurement story, of course, and perfectly emblematic of the bigger problem. We used to have mobile air defence. We didn’t have a ton, but we had 36 M113 armoured vehicles — an older vehicle, but a proven workhorse — that came armed with eight missiles that could be used against attacking air threats or tanks (given our paltry anti-tank capability, that’s two birds with one stone!). We procured the “ADATS” vehicles right at the end of the Cold War, never ended up needing them on any of our missions during the 1990s and early 2000s, and scrapped them without replacement in 2012, because Stephen Harper had a budget to balance and didn’t want to spend a bunch of bucks either modernizing the system or buying something new. We realized by 2019 that that was a bad idea, and began a procurement process to replace them, and the earliest we could expect delivery is … the end of this decade.
So for now, we try to buddy up with allies that have anti-air defences, or expect our troops in the field to put their faith in the Lord and mediocre Russian targeting systems. But even if we rush a procurement of some air-defence systems, that would just plug one gap among many. Why the hell haven’t we picked a fighter jet by now? Oh, yeah: Because no leader wants to spend the money and assumed we’d never need them, anyway. Oops! Why haven’t we gotten the new navy ships under construction, or begun work on the next-generation submarines? Huh, that’s weird — it’s the same reason: we’re cheap and assumed we wouldn’t need them, so flaking out wasn’t risky. Why aren’t we pushing ahead with NORAD radar modernization? Why was buying trucks such an ordeal? Why are we still incapable of buying a new 9mm pistol? Same, same and same.
For the politicians, military spending is a boring and distracting waste of money they’d rather spend on something they think voters would like. This is a mindset that is deeply set in among Canadian politicians, and it applies basically evenly across Liberals and Conservatives alike (the others are even worse). There has been a massive failure of imagination across not just our political class, but our society more generally. We have dropped the ball, and are now at the mercy of events.
February 14, 2022
QotD: Canadians and imaginary peacekeeping
… the word “peacekeeping” triggers a series of powerful memories and positive images in the Canadian mind: Lester Pearson’s Nobel Peace Prize; a Canadian soldier in a blue helmet interposed between warring factions; the peacekeeping monument in Ottawa, and the widely believed mantra that, while Americans make war, we Canadians keep the peace.
Canadians are fixated on peacekeeping. We believe that Mike Pearson invented it, that Canadians are the best in the world at it, and that if we do peacekeeping, ideally for the United Nations, then we will not need large numbers of troops or much expensive equipment. The idea of peacekeeping as our métier has certainly shaped Canadian defence policy, and not for the better. The billions of dollars that Liberals and Conservatives have belatedly pledged to rebuild the Canadian Forces will take years to make a difference and to undo four decades of neglect …
J.L. Granatstein, “Wake up! This is our war, too”, Globe and Mail, 2006-02-28.
February 4, 2022
Canada’s delusionary approach to the question of providing military support to Ukraine
In The Line, “Tommy Conway” explains why it makes no sense to take Canadian government and military leaders’ talking points on the situation in Ukraine seriously:
Canada has not done these things. We say we’re not sending weapons because “diplomacy is the solution”, but the reality is we can’t send anything meaningful. Any small arms we send would likely be on a NATO standard, and thus not very useful for Ukrainian forces who use Soviet calibers. As for the stuff the Kyiv really needs — the anti-tank and anti-air systems that the Americans, British, and Balts are sending — we are not sending them because we barely have any. Our anti-tank capability is mostly theoretical. Because we have not replaced older, worn-out systems, we have less anti-tank capability now than we did during the “decade of darkness” in the 1990s. We’ve known for decades that we need to equip the infantry with highly-portable, effective guided missiles like the U.S. Javelin, but we haven’t bothered, save for a few Spike missile systems for our special forces. Maybe our regular ground forces will get something similar by 2033. We have literally no air defence capability besides shooting machine guns in the air and hoping for the best, so we have no air defence missiles to send. Besides the fact that we can’t support Ukraine with weapons, we can’t really support NATO allies with reinforcements either because our units, on a modern battlefield, would lack the ability to defend themselves. We might be welcome as a political gesture, but we might also just be in the way.
Our deficiencies go deeper than weapons. CAF is well below strength. But instead of doubling down on core capabilities, CAF leadership insists on putting more people and resources into newer, faddish capabilities like cyber and information warfare, when we already have an entire government agency that does cyber. Our brigades — the core of the Canadian Army’s fighting power, are under-strength, and the army’s recent “Force 2025” concept concedes that the army should hope to field small, combat team elements as the core of any near-future operational deployment. To put this in perspective, a combat team makes up part of a battlegroup, which makes up part of a brigade. The Russians have 50 battlegroup equivalents on the Ukrainian border, and roughly 16 in the Kaliningrad exclave bordering Poland and Lithuania.
A Canadian deployment of a few combat teams would be too small a force even to help manage a large number of refugees in an active combat zone. We might be able to scrape together a battlegroup, but it would be vulnerable to air and tanks — in other words, not very useful. Once it was destroyed, that would probably be the majority of the Canadian Army’s combat power gone, with no hope of reconstituting it.
It would be one thing if the army sold this reorganization as a necessary evil in lean times, but this sort of hollowing-out is instead presented as allowing the army to “remain[…] ready to operate not only in the land domain, but pan-domain in a joint environment beyond simply reinforcing its existing capabilities.” Strip away the jargon, and it should be obvious that this phrasing is the victim of too much powerpoint and too little thinking. Junior NCOs and junior officers alike are instructed to build a “priority of work” into their plans for even small, simple operations. Given that we don’t have realistic “current capabilities”, reinforcing our shell of an army should obviously be on the top of the list before we commit resources to new things. At the very least we should be open and honest about what we can and can’t do.
If you ask most talking heads in the Canadian “defence space”, battlegroups that can’t battle aren’t a big deal. The idea that modern war will be won on social media or through “integration” and digital technologies, thus making the old ground-pounders outdated, is a common staple among civilian defence academics. It’s also present in the government’s defence policy, which goes on at length about space and cyberwar and climate change and “ungoverned spaces”, but little about building a realistic fighting force. This hopeful language about an army that can operate in a chaotic world without much messy stuff like hurting people or breaking things is obviously nonsense, but novelty and wishful thinking are pretty standard fare for academics and politicians. It’s much more concerning to see supposedly practical military people hold reality in such low regard.
The officer class’ shoddy thinking comes from decades of misguided pseudo-intellectual development. After the Somalia Affair in the 1990s, the CAF turned to liberal arts education as a way to buy credibility. There was nothing wrong with the idea of intellectual broadening in theory — the officer corps obviously needed reform. But the reforms were rushed and packaged, so they replaced one set of intellectual deficiencies with another.
November 21, 2021
British Columbia’s annus horribilis
In The Line, Jen Gerson does a distressingly good imitation of Cassandra’s warnings … and just like Cassandra, her words are probably going to be ignored until things get much worse:
So now here it is. We have flooding so acute that we are airlifting food supplies to small towns in British Columbia cut off by destroyed transport routes that it may take weeks to repair. The damage has cut off rail and road links from the city of Vancouver to the rest of Canada. Not only does this trap all the rail and truck resources now stranded in the isolated areas, it also cuts off one of the largest ports in North America in the midst of a global supply chain crisis.
On top of that, many of those economists who told us inflation was not going to happen are now hedging their bets. Oh, and we are still dealing with a pandemic, and its lingering health and economic damage.
Once again we have proven ourselves utterly dependent on the military to manage a domestic crisis — a military that is so profoundly underfunded and under equipped that it has reached a state of generational decline. (For more on that, read Matt Gurney’s piece in The Line from yesterday [linked here].)
Meanwhile, we’ve been writing here at The Line about the utter collapse of our institutional capacity; the unavoidable fact that our governments seem totally unable to anticipate obvious, immediate, and pressing disasters. A recent example of that came from the federal government’s failure to sound the alarm on COVID-19 back in 2020. However, the residents of British Columbia sure didn’t get the same kind of notice of imminent danger that their American counterparts surely did.
God help us if a really bad winter storm hits somewhere in this country over the next six to eight weeks. Another severe ice storm, or a real blizzard; I genuinely fear we would have people starving to death in their homes for lack of resources to spare to dig them out.
I am a 37-year-old woman who had never seen an empty shelf in a grocery store until COVID-19. Now I’m seeing scenes out of Kamloops supermarkets that look like something out of The Walking Dead. No serious shortages in 35 years — and now I’ve seen two episodes of panic buying clearing out the shelves in the past two.
We keep on acting as if this disaster is the peak. This is the worst year ever, and we’re going to get back to normal any minute now.
Maybe.
But what if we don’t?
November 19, 2021
“We don’t even fund our search-and-rescue units properly. That’s the least controversial thing the military does.”
In The Line, Matt Gurney discusses the situation of the Canadian Armed Forces as domestic demands escalate (especially in the Vancouver area this week), and the already under-staffed units strain to meet Canadians’ needs:
If you’ve heard of General Wayne Eyre, Canadian Army, it’s probably because he’s currently the acting chief of the defence staff — that’s the top officer in the Canadian Armed Forces, in command of the army, navy and air force. He got the job after the last CDS got entangled in the sexual misconduct scandal now roiling the military. Gen. Erye stands a pretty good chance of being the next CDS on a full-time basis, assuming the government ever gets around to making a decision on that front. Given the attention the Liberals usually give the military, this is not a guarantee.
If you’d heard of Gen. Eyre before all the weirdness alluded to above, there’s a decent chance it’s because of a pretty stark warning he sounded not long ago. Interviewed by the Canadian Press, the general, then head of the army, warned that the military was simply too small to do all that was being asked of it. Specifically, he warned that increasingly frequent domestic deployments were interfering with the military’s ability to conduct large-scale, multi-unit exercises. In typical Canadian fashion, the general reached for a hockey metaphor to describe why such large exercises are essential, and told the CP, “It’s like a hockey team that would never train, never play on the ice together, and then all of a sudden being thrown into an NHL game and be expected to win.”
There are other concerns with increasing domestic deployments, which the CP noted were becoming larger as well as more frequent in line with worsening natural disasters. They exhaust personnel and wear out equipment. But the point was made — the general was telling Canadians that our world was changing, and our military was struggling to keep up. Military guys usually aren’t verbose or particularly expressive. The fact that Gen. Eyre gave this interview at all was notable on its own.
The interview was published on Jan. 20, 2020, by the way, on a day when hundreds of troops were helping Newfoundlanders dig out after a nasty winter storm. Anyone recall what else was getting underway back in early 2020?
As I write this column, I’m watching a press conference from British Columbia government officials, addressing the massive damage done by recent floods and landslides. It’s an unusually emotional press conference. That’s not a criticism, but simply an observation from a journalist who’s watched more of these than he can remember over the years. The ministers are clearly possessed by the enormity of this problem; the minister of transportation aptly described the province’s transportation network as “crippled.” Major highways and railways are either underwater or blocked by debris. Some others seem to have been partially destroyed, the ground beneath them simply gone. Many communities in B.C. are now entirely cut off from the outside world or have, at best, extremely limited access; helicopters are hauling supplies in and stranded people out. The city of Vancouver, Canada’s third largest, is essentially detached from the rest of the country unless one wants to take a huge detour through the United States, which only reopened its land border to Canadians a few days ago.
The economic toll of cutting off the Port of Vancouver from the rest of the country, at a time when supply chain disruptions are already biting hard, is going to be gigantic. Economist Trevor Tombe did some quick math and estimated it at over $2 billion a week in trade between B.C. and the rest of the country that’s just been wiped off the national GDP, not to mention the direct costs of actually fixing the damaged infrastructure, of repairing property damaged or destroyed by the tragedy and, sadly, and the massive losses to farmers in property and livestock, much of which has drowned. This is a big, big economic hit to Canada.
November 11, 2021
Remembrance Day ceremonies — please keep them short and on-topic
In The Line “Tommy Conway” (pseudonym for an active service member of the Canadian Armed Forces) has some thoughts on Remembrance Day and particularly the official ceremonies to mark the occasion:
Canadian troops are generally regarded as a practical, irreverent bunch. They absolutely hate that “hoo-ah” stuff you hear south of the border, and resent any attempt to import it. I’ve never met a more snide bunch and I wouldn’t have it any other way. When it comes to Remembrance Day, the most meaningful ceremonies for them involve a few close friends, or a small gathering of colleagues. One veteran related to me a ceremony he had on the job: a well-respected officer asked those present to speak well of lost friends, if they felt like it, then they had a moment of silence and carried on with the job. The least profound experience I’ve had was at the National Memorial in Ottawa, where a bunch of mid-career captains used the event as a way to catch up and barely shut their mouths for the speeches. Not that they missed much: the Chaplain-General took the time to tell us that our brave predecessors sacrificed their lives and youth, in part, to secure a harassment-free workplace. I don’t expect it will get better this year, or ever.
When it comes to local ceremonies, I understand, I really do, that organizers want to convey their thoughts about the fallen and want to do so in detail. Please try to keep speeches few and short, and ceremonies simple and purposeful. The more wreaths at a local ceremony that dignitaries want to lay, the more elements of the program you have, the longer you keep that young private soldier, who was bussed from a base that morning, from having a beer with his or her friends afterwards. For many young soldiers, the post-ceremony refreshment time is where their NCOs open up about the really hard stuff they’ve been through and let the new guys listen. It’s meaningful and right that your local business and civic leaders want to show respect for the dead, but it means more for everyone involved if you do it after the ceremony.
The National War Memorial itself is a great illustration on the pitfalls of trying too hard. Traditionally, the memorial was just let alone by the authorities, except for ceremonies. In 2006, a couple of drunks peed on it. While this was offensive, drunks doing offensive things is a fact of life. A confident society with reasonable people in charge would have let the legal system work out the mischief charges and carried on. Not long after, however, the CAF decided to post sentries at the memorial to guard it from stray drunks. Then, tragically, one of the sentries, Corporal Nathan Cirillo, was murdered in a terrorist attack in 2014 while performing this duty. So now the Ottawa Police guard the sentries, who in turn guard the memorial. Imagine yourself as a Canadian sapper who entered a major firefight in Panjwai, in a bulldozer with steel hastily welded to the windows because the chronically under-equipped CAF had no proper armoured bulldozers available, and think of this obscene waste of everyone’s time and money. If Canadian troops are looking at the memorial from the beyond, they’re looking in disbelief, not reverence. And they’re making snarky comments, too.
September 30, 2021
“The nicer the Canadian, the worse the hypocrisy gets”
In The Line a Canadian veteran of Afghanistan (writing as “Tommy Conway”) explains why Canada’s “nice guy” illusions have made us weaker and unable to succeed at so many of our endeavours:
We do not merely have an institutional problem, but a spiritual one. The peoples of the Western democracies have lost their sense of shame. Canadians, in particular, have lost our collective self-respect. We have become “nice guys”, the sort of people who expect to be praised because we can do no harm. We have ceased to be a citizenry that values honour — the kind of people who are capable of doing hard things, and willing to spend a lot of effort doing the right ones.
During the Afghan war, many NATO soldiers lived in very harsh conditions “outside the wire”. In forward patrol bases or on extended missions, water was at a premium, so washing socks was a weekly treat. But for others, Afghanistan meant a lot of time generating PowerPoint decks in bloated headquarters. Go past the walls in Kabul which separated the safe NATO bases from the bustling city, and one could find cafes staffed by friendly Nepalese baristas, air-conditioned gyms, and plentiful cold drinks.
Absurdly, in the American compound at the same Kabul International Airport where desperate evacuees tramped through trenches of human waste and barbed wire to escape the country as the Taliban advanced, the U.S. Air Force maintained a pleasant compound with green grass. Kandahar International Airport was well-known for a much-frequented strip of fast-food outlets, including a Tim Hortons.
These amenities warped the perspective of those with regular access to them. Canadian Army lore is full of tales of confrontations between bedraggled, unshaven troops coming in from patrol being denied access to an iced capp for improper dress. I’ve rarely been so embarrassed as the time I took tea from an Afghan father of three, smiling in the sweltering heat of an Afghan summer, only to return to my relatively comfortable quarters behind safe walls to hear people bitch and moan about the fridge being out of their favourite pop.
It wasn’t just individual troops who lost perspective. Senior leaders made a big deal about receiving two beers on Canada Day, and put extensive measures in place to conceal the festivities from Afghan staff because the presence of alcohol might offend cultural sensibilities. I am not a cultural expert, but I imagine the locals were offended about the well-watered, visibly overfed, air-conditioned people in less than a kilometer from the poverty of the population they were supposed to be protecting. Some of the old-timers, who had served with the Communist army, stated categorically that they liked the Russians more because they shared their vodka — and their hardships.
We barely had perspective then, and we sure as hell don’t now.
Predictably, the further from the theatre of operations, the more that perspective was distorted. Somehow, the Canadian public grew “war-weary” over Afghanistan, though it’s difficult to understand what tired them. Between 1939-45, this country sustained a full field army, despite drawing from a population a third of today’s size. Canadians withstood rationing as tens of thousands of their countrymen died overseas, and came out of the war optimistic about the future.
[…]
Compare that to what we suffered in Afghanistan; we sustained a strong battalion group, and maintained a few bloated headquarters — all of this proved to be too much to keep up. Canada slid into a training mission in 2011 and then gave up completely in 2014. During the fighting, the vast majority of the population felt no impact whatsoever. As Tom Nichols paraphrased a U.S. officer in Iraq, “We’re at war, America’s at the mall.” Canada was there with them, complaining about the lines in the food court.
September 20, 2021
Canada was given advance notice of the AUKUS deal … about five minutes notice
When the news broke about a new western alliance involving Australia, the United Kingdom and the United States, the official line — belatedly — was that our allies had kept Canadian officials “in the loop”, about the negotiations. Now that everyone’s attention is on the vote-counting, it can be safely acknowledged that the Canadian government got a heads-up just a few minutes before the formal announcement, as Ted Campbell discusses:
So, Steven Chase and Robert Fife say, in the Globe and Mail, that “The Canadian government was surprised this week by the announcement of a new security pact between the United States, Britain and Australia, one that excluded Canada and is aimed at confronting China’s growing military and political influence in the Indo-Pacific region, according to senior government officials [and] Three officials, representing Canada’s foreign affairs, intelligence and defence departments, told The Globe and Mail that Ottawa was not consulted about the pact, and had no idea the trilateral security announcement was coming until it was made on Wednesday by U.S. President Joe Biden, British Prime Minister Boris Johnson and Australian Prime Minister Scott Morrison.”
Not only did our oldest and closest friends and allies kick Canada out of the “inner circle”, they didn’t even bother to tell us that the political and diplomatic kick in the arse was coming, although, the Globe journalists say, the Australian and British defence ministers gave Harjit Sajjan a brief “heads up” just minutes before the announcement. Mr Sajjan’s spokesman said that Canada “had been kept in the loop”, I call BS.
Vice Admiral Mark Norman, someone who knows a lot about what happens at the highest echelons of government in Ottawa said that “if Mr. Trudeau was fully briefed” [on this new AUKUS pact, then] “he doesn’t understand what is going on internationally and he doesn’t understand what the significance of an arrangement like this is as it relates to international security.” I don’t think he had heard a word about this until Minister Sajjan’s senior aids called the PCO and PMO on Wednesday afternoon.
One can easily imagine the conversations on Wednesday and Thursday in some of the corridors of power in Ottawa: “
Biden us!” said one senior official. “No,” said another, even more senior, “this has been coming for a long time. It’s a shock, but it really shouldn’t be a surprise.” “They screwed us,” said a third, “we’ve done nothing to deserve this. It’s just because we aren’t spending as much as Biden and Morrison want on the military and it’s because we’re not sending more ships to Asia, more often.” “No,” the second person said, “it’s because we decided, all of us, you and me, too, to not do whatever it took to arrest the changes in our national strategic outlook.” “How can you say that?” the first speaker said, “We all protested, I wrote a long brief explaining why we needed to step up …” “We’re still here,” the more senior official said. “We didn’t resign and go public as soon as we saw how things were shaping up. Almost no one did.” “No one listens when senior officials or admirals or generals resign,” said the third official, “it wouldn’t have done any good.” “You’re right,” the most senior official answered, “resignations are, normally, not news and they rarely change politicians’ minds … not, anyway, when they’re done one at a time. Back in 2016, when many us started to see, clearly, how things were going we should have resigned en masse ~ and not just we three, but dozens of us from PCO, from Foreign Affairs and from DND and the military. If the senior public service had rebelled, as it should when the government makes destructive policy choice against our advice, then there would have been enormous, even irresistible political pressure. But we didn’t, did we? We all stayed on and wrote a couple of arse-covering briefing notes and went about our business. We are as much to blame for this as are those dimwits in Trudeau’s cabinet and inner circle. We failed Canada.” Vice Admiral Norman, the article explains, “said the agreement goes far beyond access to U.S. submarine technology [which is Mr Trudeau’s lame excuse for why Canada was kicked out of the inner circle] This is about accessing both current and emerging technologies, from cyber and artificial intelligence, to acoustics and underwater warfare – a whole range of very important strategic capabilities.” Further, “Mr. Norman said Canada has many national interests in the Indo-Pacific – including trade, promoting the rule of law and democracy, and countering China’s aggressive behaviour and posturing – but he suspects close allies do not take Canadian defence commitments seriously [and he added] I don’t think our allies think we are serious when it comes to defence. I think they have concerns not just about our defence expenditures, but also the extent to which our [international] commitments are both lasting and meaningful.” This has been evident since 2015. Justin Trudeau effectively campaigned on doing less in the world. Everyone knew this was coming ~ especially those who voted for the Liberal Party … it is what they wanted. It’s what Canada got.