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Wednesday, April 1, 2009

Excerpt from a letter to the editor by Col. J.H. Allan

I (...) observed the steady rise to the top of the merit lists of all too many who treated soldiering as a civil service cinecure, "fit the all-singing, all-dancing, computer profile", and thought morale was a matter of having a plus balance in their pay guides. "The fault, dear Brutus, lies not in the stars but in ourselves." We, the senior officers, of the Army must keep falling on our swords to allow "soldiers to be soldiers" and to support the orangutans against the "civil servants."


Col. J.H. Allan, "Letter to the Editor", Infantry Journal, number 16

Excerpt from "A rejoinder to 'where have all the tigers gone?'" by Capt. K. McKay

If a modern Army allows soldiers to be soldiers we won't have a problem with occupational values, those that wish to soldier will, those that don't can join Air Canada. That is not to say that good wages, benefits, and a good family life are not important: they are as important today as they were 25 years ago. But how does one equate an hourly wage to going on patrol at midnight in the freezing rain on an empty stomach. Job satisfaction is very important. We all remember the good times.


There was a time when contact sports were not only allowed but encouraged. Football, Boxing, Murderball, Hit hockey, etc, allowed the soldier to get rough and tough in peacetime. After all, we are trying to train men to go to war.


Captain Kermin McKay, RCD, "A rejoinder to where have all the tigers gone? Why have the ringmasters changed? Or put the fun back into the army!", Infantry Journal, number 15

Excerpt from "Where, oh where have all the tigers gone?" by LCol D.A. Nicholson

You will no doubt have begun to detect, and I readily admit to, a twinge of nostalgic longing to meet once again a type of young officer who was fairly common just a few short years ago. This was the young man who did occasionally express a certain degree of boisterous enthusiasm for his profession, whose exuberance sometimes led to a heart-to-heart talk in my office and an extra tour as orderly officer, and who, fortified by a few draught of "happy hour elixir", would corner me in the bar for a forceful lecture on how I should really be running the unit. These same young officers may have required frequent guidance and steering, and occasional restraint but, bless them, they never required prodding. They could always be relied upon to put forth that essential extra effort which so often means the difference between success and disaster in both peace and war. No task was too difficult, and no hardship could deter them. Their senior NCOs looked after them like fathers. Their men loved and respected them and followed them without question. It was comforting to know that such men would be available if the crunch came. I am grateful for having had the privilege of serving with them. I only hope that their enthusiasm, gaiety and sheer zest for living have not since become squelched by the pervasive, bloodless "man in the green flannel suit" syndrome of which I have spoken.


Please, let us accept, cherish and develop, along with the nice, manageable pussycats, at least a few TIGERS. We, and Canada, will someday have need of them, as sure as God made little green managers.


LCol D.A. Nicholson, Where, oh where have all the Tigers gone?", The Mobile Command Letter, March 1973