RMC, Comox and Borden, Oh My ~ Part 3 (1987)

Leaving Roads in second year finds me flailing until Logistics Training a year later.
It was worth it…

Come the summer of ’87, after first year at Royal Roads Military College, it was time to take French courses at Royal Military College (RMC) in Kingston, Ontario. RMC is set on several areas with significant lake frontage and several huge piers on Lake Ontario. That summer was a lot of fun. Being in the city of Kingston was exciting and the summer sun would see us laying out on the big docks on campus and running and jumping off the piers and swimming in Lake Ontario.

That was the summer my friend and I met a couple of guys while driving on the 401 to Toronto. Communications were done not by cell phone, which were almost nonexistent, but at high-speed via black sharpies and large note pads. Writing greetings and then holding them up to the window for the fellas in the nearby car to read. We ended up asking them, by note, to meet us in downtown Toronto at Mr. Green Jeans restaurant in the Toronto Eaton’s Centre. They made it! And, we had a chatty dinner with them: Doug and J.R.. Afterward, we went to the Hard Rock Café until my bus was ready to depart for Walden.

J.R. and I ended up seeing each other all summer, but, alas, then it was time for me to go back to Victoria, BC. Interestingly, he was a southern lad and an Infantry lieutenant in the US Army and was stationed across the border from Kingston in Fort Drum near Watertown, NY.  I’ll never forget the fun of how we met.  So random.  So different.

Second year began at Royal Roads Military College (RRMC). But, my heart was not in it. I didn’t enjoy the academics. Most of my Profs were mind-numbingly boring or struggled with the English language, even my English prof.  (To be fair, I did really like my Chemistry and History profs). It was not how I wanted to spend my time. I asked to be entered into the program allowing a cadet to go straight into a career posting. I got it, but it was not until the following year. I was told I would become an Army Logistics Officer and that training would begin in October 1988 in Canadian Forces Base (CFB) Borden, Ontario.

Okay great, but, what would happen to me for the year???

For several months I was put to work in the Castle. Hatley Castle at RRMC. Severely boring work, just managing paper and simple tasks. I had to do quite a bit of photocopying and would inevitably run into this same civilian woman who had been working there for decades. She would coldly ask me every time I saw her: ‘So….you’re still here are ya?’

Hmmm. Thanks.  I would not speak for fear of crying.  It was so mean.  Her cold and judgmental attitude. It’s not like I wasn’t already feeling like a fish out of water.  I would just nod and smile, not daring to open my mouth.

Mt Washington

In the winter, the best thing to happen was that I was sent on a week-long ski trip to Mount Washington with several others working in the castle as well as some members from CFB Esquimalt.  Classified as ‘Adventure Training’ so all expenses covered.  After unpacking our gear in our quarters, a bunch of us went out to a pub and shared jugs of beer and danced and danced and danced.  It was going to be a good week.  And it was.  I was so needing that week away and outlet in exercise and fresh air with a fun group.  The skiing was incredible with tons of fresh white stuff and ‘The Black Chair’ pub at the end of the day where we would gather to share snacks and beer and just shoot the shit.

CFB ComoxAfter a couple months, I was sent to CFB Comox, BC, up island, for administration support at the Air Traffic Control Tower. That was interesting. Ironically, the best thing about it was learning how to use a new word processor called Word Perfect. That came in handy later.

One time, at the mess (which is like a pub but only for Officers), I was fortunate enough to be in the company of the highly skilled Snowbird Team still dressed in their flight suits.  We shared a few drinks, played darts and made jokes.  One joke that I made was about my colourful vest.  That it looked rather like I had ‘killed’ my couch.  The beer helped make that one funny.  They laughed, just to be nice.

snowbirds

I began playing on a slow pitch team and met some good folks. One of them was Stevie. Steve was a lumberjack up in Tofino. He was also an avid mountain biker. He and his buddy and I would go on mountain biking day trips to Denman and Hornby Islands. Challenging trails but extremely fun too. Stevie taught me all about mountain biking. I entered a 75 k race over a hill on a logging road. It was a sweaty experience and my ass was sore for days.

Suddenly, it was time to go East for training in logistics.

biking

I bought a new little car: a 1988 Chevrolet Sprint, 3 cylinder. I began the journey across Canada, stopping each night in a flea-bitten crap motel advertising colour tv, my ass sore and my eyes glazed over from the miles and miles of the day. It took me six days to arrive in London, Ontario at my eldest sister Eva’s house. I scared the living be-jesus out of her walking into the house unannounced and finding her concentrating on something with her back to me. She was so happy to see me, jumping up and down, screaming, crying and hugging me. No kidding. We Players take our greetings seriously. She wanted to know how long I could stay. I told her about heading to Borden for a course the next day. I could stay only one night. It was a nice time and we caught up on all the news.  I saw her again on various weekends and usually with a friend.

It was a couple of hours drive to Base Borden where I started my clearing in process: getting the key to my barrack room mainly. Classes started the very next morning for the Basic Logistics Officers Course.

The first person I met on the course is now my husband.

I walked into the training building out of the rain on that chill October morning and shrugged out of my army issue trench coat.  With my right hand, I reached up to hang it on a hook, one of many along the corridor.  Just as I did so, my gaze shifted left and my eyes met those of a new classmate.  He smiled and said, ‘Hi’.

I saw stars.  I literally saw stars.

I was instantly in love with this very good looking dark haired, green-eyed man who was grinning handsomely and looking down at me as his left hand reached to hang his coat.

I floated into class.

Later we had an English grammar test and He achieved a perfect score. I knew then that it was Him.

The one!

He was gorgeous, sweet, gentle and intelligent. When I saw him kick a soccer ball, I swooned. It was poetry in motion.  I began to pray…

Next:  Army Part 4

All photos except this tank are from google images.

Leave a comment…or, I’ll hunt you down!!

A Posting to Germany and a Lifelong Romance, part 4 (1988 & on)

…it is the belief that there are no coincidences but that rather, everything in life has a pattern and that a coincidence is simply the moment that the pattern becomes briefly visible. 
~Anthony Horowitz

During our training at CFB Borden, Ontario in logistics and field army tactics called Environmental Specialty Land, almost all of my ninety or so classmates were officially asking for a posting to Germany following successful completion of their training.  Germany was considered one of the best postings for a young officer.  Living in Europe had its pluses: travel, good food, amazing souvenirs, clocks, chocolate, schnapps and furniture, it also came with an overseas allowance, separation allowance, if applicable and, it was more prestigious – there was even a medal out of it: the NATO Service Medal.

This seems unbelievable now, but, unlike almost all of my colleagues, I did not ask for a posting to Germany.  When interviewed, I told my career manager to send me anywhere.  I am 22 with no strings and I have no wishes in particular.  In my head, it would be a new adventure wherever I was sent.  I was excited to really start my career and, it was a big wide world out there.  Location wasn’t a big worry to me (although I would be sad to be sent away from Dean but, knew that that was inevitable).

I’ll never forget the day of the decisions for our postings.  I kept seeing classmates exit the interview office with red-rimmed eyes, like they had been crying.  Others were quiet and sullen.  Others were frantically calling their spouses from the pay phones (there were no cell phones in 1989) and arguing loudly or discussing quietly.  Finally, it was my turn to go in.  I had no idea that what she was about to say to me would shape my future: bring me my true love, a wonderful son and the happy, contented life I now enjoy.

My career manager remarked about my comments about send me anywhere.  ‘Hmm,’ she said, ‘you’re doing well on your training.  I like your attitude.  How about Germany?  Would you like to go to Germany?’ My answer was simple: ‘Sure’, I said with a shoulder shrug.  I was truly feeling like this was just another one of my adventures in life.  I was feeling fortunate but trepidatious.  It dawned on me that I shouldn’t walk out of that office and announce it to my classmates.  I put a button on it and walked out looking down, like everyone else.

Then began the screening process for Germany.  There were a few steps.  The Canadian Forces wanted to ensure that healthy soldiers were sent overseas.  Mine was easy.  Good health. Good teeth. No family.  No spouse.  My no-strings life was likely the reason I was to be sent there.  Much cheaper for them. I was still very much secretly in love with my Newfoundlander classmate, Dean, the first person I met on training in Borden, Ontario but it was one-sided.  Me toward him, not both ways – not even close.  In fact, I walked around like a love-sick calf and could barely speak whenever he was about.  It was crazy.  I had never before been so affected by a prospective date.

So, I kept it on the low-down about my posting to Germany.  So many others had so wanted to go there, I thought they would hate me if they found out I got it.  Our training continued and I said nothing.  One day, that I will never forget as long as I live, I was sitting in the common room of our barracks spit-polishing my boots.  There were a few classmates in there too, chit-chatting.  Walter says to Randy: ‘did you hear that Dean is going to Germany?’

My head came up.

I dropped my boot.

Oh my god.

OH…MY…GOD!

It was meant to be.

It would only be a matter of time before we would be together.  I knew this in my soul.  This was another one of those pivotal times in my life when it seemed that the fates took over and steered my life in a certain direction.  I was just going with it.  I have since come across something in a novel by Anthony Horowitz…it is the belief that there are no coincidences but that rather, everything in life has a pattern and that a coincidence is simply the moment that the pattern becomes briefly visible. With the way that my entire being was vibrating with joy at the news of being sent to Germany at the same time as my secret love…surely this was the pattern being briefly visible.

A few months later, I arrived in Germany and moved into my barrack room.  It was a short walk to the Black Forest Officer’s Mess – one of the most beautiful messes in the Canadian Forces due to its German architecture, interior design and beautiful surroundings – forest and lush grounds.  Canadian Forces Officers were treated well.  I was in the common room, meeting up with some of the other folks who were in the same barracks.  Hearing the tapping of cleats on the floor, I looked up and saw Dean walking toward me…

Be still my heart.

He was in his soccer gear and covered head to toe and long strong, muscled legs, in mud.  He was so athletic, fit, boyish, gorgeous and delicious looking.  I was tongue tied.  With stars dancing in my eyes, I asked him what he was doing there.  He told me he had heard I was arriving today and he thought he would come and meet me.  Yikes.  I was so in love.  I was shocked that he was there for me.  I remember feeling quite surprised but pleased that he was there…for me.  (I found out later that he was ‘tasked’ by our Company 2i/c to meet me and ensure that I got settled in and shown around, oh well.)

The next day Dean picked me up and we went to meet our new Commanding Officer.  I was given ‘A’ platoon in Supply and Transportation Company of 4 Service Battalion.  Dean had Supply Platoon, same company.  So, we would be working closely together on a day to day basis.  I got that same warm feeling of anticipation.  There were so many other units that we could have each been sent to, separately, but here we were side-by-side.  Coincidence.  The pattern was showing.

Again, it was being reinforced that we would be together.

….Continued — A Posting To Germany and a Lifelong Romance (part 5)