Tag Archives: Canadian Army

Love him and let him love you. Do you think anything else under heaven really matters? — James Baldwin

Connor Storrie and Hudson Williams as Ilya Rozanov and Shane Hollander.

I noticed the sensation generated by the release of the series Heated Rivalry on Crave. It piqued my interest. I subscribed to Crave and settled in to watch the first episode of the series. Based on the first episode of the series, I expected the rest to be decidedly underwhelming. Thankfully, I found the following episodes much improved. I get what the storyline is about; at least I think so. The story is about two young men, one from Canada — his name is Shane Hollander — and the other from Russia — his name is Ilya Rozanov — who are rising stars in elite-level Junior Hockey and fierce competitors. They go on to become professional hockey players and captains of their respective teams. Each one has issues with his family and feels the pressures of navigating the byzantine world of professional hockey. Their story progresses through several years; along the way, they found they had a mutual sexual attraction. That further complicated things for them.

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We don’t rise to the level of our expectations, we fall to the level of our training. — Archilocus

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I was a gunner in the 30th Field Artillery Regiment in 1980.

Watching the Netflix series “Boots” resonated with me. It brought back memories of my military service as a Reservist in the Canadian Army. I joined the Canadian Army as a recruit in the 30th Field Artillery Regiment in Ottawa, Ontario, late in 1978, at seventeen–a few weeks before my eighteenth birthday. Unlike the characters in “Boots,” I was not a professional soldier, and neither did I experience boot camp. I served on weeknights and weekends, and with the Regular Force during the summer months. I had the opportunity to serve with the Regular Force on the UN Peacekeeping deployments or with the Regular Force in Europe for extended periods, but chose not to. I was a closeted gay youth serving in the Canadian Army when male homosexuality was grounds for dismissal from the service. I overheard once an NCO mention the dismissal of a man from the service because he was caught “butt fucking” another man. Like the protagonist in “Boots,” Cameron Cope, I chose military service because I wanted a change and hoped to form a more positive view of myself. My father was ex-military and hated the Army. He tried to talk me out of it. Interestingly, my high school music teacher, a veteran, also told me I was not suited for military service.

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It is a great plague to be too handsome a man. — Plautus

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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.

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I am the Love that Dare not Speak its Name. ― Alfred B. Douglas

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This self-portrait, taken in Havelock, New Brunswick, shows the simplicity of the intimacy shared by Leonard Olive Keith (1891-1950) and Joseph Austin “Cub” Coates (1899-1965), who lived and loved in the first half of the 20th century. They were two men in love in Canada when male homosexuality was a crime in Canadian law, and public prejudice against male homosexuality was openly expressed. It was as simple as it is in the present. Some men are romantically and sexually attracted to men. It is a natural expression of human sexual attraction and behaviour. To those who knew and loved them, they were Len and Cub, a homosexual couple. To those who reviled male homosexuals, they were beneath contempt. They were what we call normal gays in the 21st century. Len was a harness racing driver who opened a garage after serving as an engineer in the Canadian Army in World War I. Cub was a mechanic who served as an engineer in the Canadian Army in World War I and volunteered for service in the Canadian Army in World War II. They were ordinary men who had a sense of duty, served their King and country as volunteers in the Great War, and found love and companionship in each other’s company. Despite their discretion, suspicion over their relationship in Havelock drove them apart in the 1920s. Len moved to the United States, where he lived out his days. Cub married in 1940. That fate was not unusual for gay men in Canada in the 20th century.

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There’s this illusion that homosexuals have sex and heterosexuals fall in love. That’s completely untrue. Everybody wants to be loved. — Boy George

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I recall when I was in university in 1982. I enrolled in a film studies class, and one of the films we watched was Pagan Rhapsody. There is a scene in the film where two men play a sex scene. Though the scene was as vanilla as possible–there was kissing and a little friendly groping (nothing graphic)–the student audience’s vocal expressions of disgust were notable. In 2024, male homosexuality was generally accepted as a natural expression of human intimacy and treated with sensitivity in film and television. Netflix series such as Young Royals and Heartstopper feature a gay romance and intimacy between high school boys in a way that leaves something to the viewers’ imagination. Both series are immensely popular with younger viewers. Things have changed since the screening of Pagan Rhapsody in 1982. Still, when it comes to public perceptions of intimacy between gay men, there are a lot of people who have an unsavoury fixation on what they imagine goes on when two men are intimate. I get expressions of disgust in the comments on blog posts I write on gay rights advocacy, where people say things like, “There’s nothing more disgusting than two men fucking each other in the ass,” and “Cocksucking is not a men’s issue.” I mean, that is beyond the pale.

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I consider promiscuity immoral. Not because sex is evil, but because sex is too good and too important. — Ayn Rand

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In the summer of 1987, I lived with my boyfriend Fabio in a two-bedroom apartment in Kingston, Ontario. We met as students at Queen’s University and secretly carried on our love affair before moving in together. We became boyfriends during the burgeoning AIDS crisis. One evening, we sat in bed and watched a panel discussion held by one of the American News Networks–I cannot remember which one. What struck me was the inflammatory opening remark made by a conservative Congressman, whose name I do not remember, who asserted that “perversion and promiscuity” were to blame for the AIDS crisis. That sentiment was shared through the 1980s. I remember the stand-up comic Sam Kinison, who screamed in one of his routines that AIDS became an epidemic “because a few fags fuck some monkeys; they got tired of their own assholes.” Jerry Falwell claimed it was God’s judgement on homosexuals and blamed the spread of the disease into the innocent heterosexual population on bisexual men. Yes, AIDS was seen as a gay plague. Fabio and I, like countless gay men in the 1980s, were concerned. There was uncertainty about how easily the virus was transmitted. Before the dawn of the AIDS crisis, our biggest concern as students in the 1980s was the risk of an unwanted pregnancy or getting herpes.

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People idealize or reminisce about their 20s, but nobody tells you beforehand that it’s hard and unglamorous and very often unpleasant. — Zosia Mamet

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I like reminiscing, looking back on my life, and thinking of the people I knew as a boy and from my younger days in adolescence and manhood. Sadly, some of them have departed. Still, I think about those still alive and hope they are happy. I served as a reservist in the Canadian Army from 1978 to 1982, when I was in high school and university. I joined the 30th Field Artillery Regiment based in Ottawa. I trained in a group of private recruits under the supervision of a Bombardier who was a Carleton student. We had our differences and misunderstandings during my basic training. I spent almost every night and weekend on the defaulter’s parade. I served three years in the 30th Field and one year as an attached posting to the Princess of Wales Own Regiment (an infantry regiment) in Kingston, where I attended university. I transferred to the PWOR in 1982 and was promptly mustered out when the unit was downsized. I had a brief, undistinguished stint of military service in the Canadian Army, but I am proud that I served my Queen and country.

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Accept the things to which fate binds you, and love the people with whom fate brings you together, but do so with all your heart. — Marcus Aurelius

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A recurring theme in ancient Greek mythology is that you cannot outrun your fate. I think about that idea when I look back on my life and how, throughout it, people assumed that I was a homosexual. In grade school, a woman who lived across the street from my family was hired by my parents to prepare lunch for my siblings and me when we came home from school. I recall how she said that I would end up a confirmed bachelor. A confirmed bachelor was code for a homosexual historically. In middle school, I had a fleeting romance with a girl. When my seventh-grade teacher learned of our liaison, she expressed surprise; she never imagined me being interested in girls. In high school, I asked my brother if he would sound out a girl I fancied to see if she was interested in me. He reported that when the girl realized what he was up to, she retorted, “He’s a fairy!” When I joined the Canadian Army as a Reservist at eighteen, I entered the classroom one day at the Armoury and found a caricature of me as a pink bunny drawn on the blackboard captioned with anti-gay slurs. To their credit, the other recruits told me it was intended as a joke–that they liked me. Still, I wondered why people thought I was a homosexual.

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You can’t just look at someone and guess their sexuality. There’s no point in assuming that every gay man has just one personality type. — Cameron Monaghan

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I had a similar experience to the one dramatized in the video. It was in the late spring, early summer of 1980. I had graduated from high school and eagerly looked forward to enrolling at Queen’s University in the Fall. I served as a Reservist in the Canadian Army in an artillery regiment in Ottawa and made friends with another young man I met in the unit. We became fast friends. I made friends with that man and others in my regiment. Still, I was ribbed, called the “Regimental Fag” in the banter among the ranks. When I came to the Christmas Party in 1979 with a young woman for my date, I was asked, “So, you like girls?” We spent time alone together at his mother’s house. We sat on the living room floor and listened to Beatles records on the stereo. I remember my overwhelming desire for him; I wanted to throw my arms around him and kiss him. I did not understand why I felt that way, which was horrifying. I dared not try it as that would have gone badly for me (assuming he was not gay or did not return my feelings). Had I been singled out as a homosexual in 1980, it would have meant dismissal from the Service. I would likely have lost my friends and become the butt of salacious gossip.

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The whole aim of practical politics is to keep the populace alarmed (and hence clamorous to be led to safety) by an endless series of hobgoblins, most of them imaginary. ― H.L. Mencken

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Geoffrey out duck hunting.

The words “gun lobby” and “gun nut” are slurs invented by prohibitionists–people opposed to gun ownership and hunting–to besmirch the character of gun owners and hunters. I heard the term “gun nut” used on American television sitcoms like “All in the Family” as early as the 1970s. I shrugged it off at the time as inconsequential. I had no reason to believe as a boy that there was anything wrong with gun ownership and hunting. I remember how other children brought things like duck wings for show and tell in kindergarten and primary school. Wings taken from the wild ducks that their older brothers and fathers shot while out hunting. Other children proudly told the class about their fathers, who had returned from successful big game hunts. My dad and my uncle enjoyed hunting cottontail and jackrabbits when I was a boy. It was not until late in 1989, following the mass shooting at the engineering school at the University of Montreal that I first heard mention of the “gun lobby” used as a pejorative term in public parlance. It came as an unwelcome surprise. Continue reading →