OUT STANDING
IN THE FIELD
SANDRA PERRON
OUT STANDING
IN THE FIELD
Copyright 2017 Sandra Perron
This edition copyright 2017 Cormorant Books Inc.
This is a first edition.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior written consent of the publisher or a licence from The Canadian Copyright Licensing Agency (Access Copyright). For an Access Copyright licence, visit www.accesscopyright.ca or call toll free 1.800.893.5777 .
The publisher gratefully acknowledges the support of the Canada Council for the Arts and the Ontario Arts Council for its publishing program. We acknowledge the financial support of the Government of Canada through the Canada Book Fund ( cbf ) for our publishing activities, and the Government of Ontario through the Ontario Media Development Corporation, an agency of the Ontario Ministry of Culture, and the Ontario Book Publishing Tax Credit Program.
library and archives canada cataloguing in publication
Perron, Sandra, author
Out standing in the field: a memoir of military service / Sandra Perron.
Issued in print and electronic formats.
isbn 978-1-77086-494-8 (softcover). isbn 978-1-77086-495-5 (HTML)
. Perron, Sandra.. Canada. Canadian Armed Forces. Royal Rgiment, 22e.. Canada. Canadian Armed Forces. Royal Rgiment, e WomenBiography.. Harassment in the militaryCanada.. Military offenses--Canada.. Military disciplineCanada.. CanadaArmed Forces.. CanadaArmed ForcesWomenBiography.. Women soldiersCanadaBiography.
i . Title.
u55.p475a3 2017 355.0092 c2016-907300-9
c2016-907301-7
TREE TOO WEAK TO STAND, Words and Music by
GORDON LIGHTFOOT 1975 WB MUSIC CORP. (ASCAP). All Rights Reserved.
Used by Permission of ALFRED PUBLISHING, LLC
Cover photo: Ross MacDonald
Cover design: angeljohnguerra.com
Interior text design: Tannice Goddard, bookstopress.com
Printer: Friesens
Printed and bound in Canada.
The interior of this book is printed on 100% post-consumer waste recycled paper.
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To my loving parents and my three beautiful sisters.
Thank you for always believing in me.
And to all past and present men and women of the
Canadian Forces who willingly put themselves
in harms way to contribute to a better world.
OUT STANDING
IN THE FIELD
one
100th Anniversary of the Van Doos
My expectations for the evening were as big as the grand ballroom of the Delta Hotel in historic Quebec City. Red, blue, and yellow lights sparkled from the high ceiling and each wall was adorned with floor-to-ceiling drapes highlighted by Academy Award-like spotlights, also in the three regimental colours. A flag of the Royal e Rgiment hung on the left side of the front stages backdrop, while a huge banner of the regimental beaver insignia graced the right side. In the centre a giant screen flashed pictures of Van Doos, soldiers from the regiment in various eras of war, training, and deployments around the world. Round tables were squeezed together, each one dressed up with a tall glass centrepiece filled with bubbly liquid, also in the regimental colours. Trumpets, snare drums, violins, and flutes from the regimental band belted out Vive la Canadienne, a cue for the nearly two thousand guests to find their assigned tables. Following protocol, soldiers, officers, veterans, and their spouses, all dressed in their best suits and evening gowns for this special one hundredth anniversary of the Royal e Rgiment, reluctantly cut short their conversations and headed for their seats.
I wore a royal blue gown, one of the regiments colours, accompanied by expensive nylons, silver sandals, and a small Van Doo beaver proudly fastened on my dress strap. My long hair was pinned up, but wisps of curls escaped on the sides. I had never spent so much time getting ready for an evening out, but tonight I desperately needed to feel strong, beautiful, and composed. Tonight was momentous.
Id been waiting for this reunion for the last twenty-two years. Tension radiated throughout my body. I felt like I was returning to a war zone to pick up something I had left behind; something I had once cherished and now couldnt live without.
Tonight, I would get it back.
At my table sat five other officers, each accompanied by his wife. There was nostalgia in the way these five officers and I looked at each other; a deep connection that transcended two decades marriages, children, the loss of loved ones, tours of duty in Bosnia, Croatia, Afghanistan. These men had been nicknamed the Pepperoni Lovers in reference to my last name because they had chosen to become my allies during our infantry training in 1992 . For some of them, the price of that choice had been steep. Wed been through hell that spring, but wed become infantry soldiers together.
Two tables over sat the men who had been on the other side of my front line, officers who had set their crosshairs on me when I became Canadas first female infantry officer. Theyd done things to me that no person should have to endure in the workplace, despite being my colleagues, men with whom I would eventually deploy to war-torn countries to serve side-by-side. Their reasons? I was breaking the barriers of their beloved male bastion. I was intruding upon the sanctity of a male-only combat unit, threatening their beliefs about what it meant to be a soldier. I was not welcome in their regiment, and had they let me know it relentlessly, until the only option I felt I had left was to become a civilian once again.
Most of them were in senior command positions now, leading combat units, developing policies in Ottawa, shaping the future of the military. They had been rewarded generously for their leadership. I had not seen them since Id left the military, but somehow I felt that this evening would give me closure, healing the wounds theyd left me with.
I expected, perhaps irrationally, that they would apologize to me tonight. For too long I had denied wishing for such contrition but in the last few months Id come to realize that it would give me a reassurance that the conditions I had endured would not be acceptable today.
I looked forward to having them see me, to having them remember the young woman they had harassed, excluded, and abused, and yet who was here, without resentment, to celebrate her regiments one hundred years of valiant history. Tonight theyd show me the deep regret, guilt, and remorse for what they had done. In their eyes I would see enlightenment, a profound awareness that twenty-two years before, theyd been bastards who didnt realize that their actions would force me to leave the army, robbing me of my dream to be an infantry officer. Tonight, they would apologize and I would know for certain that the next generation of women would be treated with respect.
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