When I first viewed the photo, the portrait of the two young men struck me. Initially, I could not quite place why, but then it dawned on me. In the summer of 1980, I was a reservist in the Canadian Army. I served in the 30th Field Artillery Regiment based in Ottawa. It was the summer following my graduation from high school and before my enrollment at Queen’s University in Kingston. I went to Canadian Forces Base Petawawa to work as a driver in a transportation company through July and August. I worked with young men from other regiments who were posted there, too–we were in our late teens and early twenties.

There I was, a young gay man serving his Queen and country in the company of fit and potent young men my age. I bunked with them and showered with them. I saw them in the state of undress of the men in the photo when we were in the field. The young male body is a marvel, a beauty to behold. Of course, I had to keep my thoughts to myself. I recall a man from another artillery regiment who gave me the impression that he saw a kindred spirit in me. I playfully winked at him as he gazed at me from his bed one evening. He then came over, sat on the end of my bed and told me a little about himself. He was a tradesman from Guelph. Nothing happened between us, of course. Homosexuals were barred from military service in the Canadian Army in 1980. Beyond that, if you were suspected of being a homosexual by other men in the ranks, it could be hazardous to your health–I kid you not. There was a man from Ottawa who told us that he and his friends went to “roll the faggots” at Majors Hill Park, a cruising ground in the 1970s and 1980s in Ottawa.

I am sure that some of the others in my regiment suspected that I was a homosexual. I kept to myself and preferred reading Shakespeare to porn magazines. Also, they were surprised when I brought a girl to the Christmas party as my date. “You like girls,” they asked. Yes, I liked them, but the thought of having sex with a girl made me uncomfortable. I befriended a man in the regiment, and we spent much time alone at his mother’s house. I had feelings for him that I did not fully understand or appreciate. I wanted to hold and kiss him so much as we sat on the living room floor, listening to a Beatles album. It frightened me as male homosexuality was reviled, and I could not take the chance of being outed. Honestly, I wanted desperately to suppress my feelings. I did not want to accept that I was a homosexual. In university, I tried to find romance with women and had sexual relations with two. I thought about marriage with a woman I met through the Roman Catholic community at Queen’s University. The obstacle preventing me from courting her was the prospect of having conjugal relations with her regularly if we married.

I accepted my fate. I am a male homosexual; I am romantically and sexually attracted to men. I am happily married to my husband, Mika. I do not have a roving eye. That said, I appreciate the marvel and beauty of the young male body, which is why viewing the portrait had such a profound effect on me. I can only imagine how the men in the picture found each other and how they found the courage to share their feelings for one another as they lived in the first half of the 20th century in Canada, when male homosexuality was both criminalized and anathema in the public view. The photo captured a beautiful moment in the lives of these men that does not reveal the hardship they faced and that they were ultimately forced to separate. Their story is sad and beautiful in that it demonstrates the resilience of gay men throughout history. They always existed and found a way to be together despite persecution and public disapproval.

Posted by Geoffrey