- Reaction score
- 64
- Points
- 530
http://cnews.canoe.ca/CNEWS/Canada/2008/03/30/5145346-cp.html
KANDAHAR PROVINCE, Afghanistan - In a crude bunker of wood, sandbags and mud that serves as the temporary home for a Canadian gun troop in southern Afghanistan, the typical trappings of a military that's long been dominated by men are conspicuous by their absence.
There are no X-rated pinups on the walls; the dodgiest magazine is a copy of "Mad." The salty language of war doesn't have quite as much tang. And a simple cardboard sign with drawings of stick people on either side makes it clear when the showers are off-limits to the boys.
Of all the gun troops operating outside Kandahar Airfield from B Battery, 1 Royal Canadian Horse Artillery, based in Shilo, Man., C Troop has all the females - no fewer than five out of a complement of 30 soldiers.
Being a gunner in Afghanistan is loud, dirty work. At night, C Troop works long hours lobbing illumination mortars to help light the way for coalition forces on night reconnaissance missions, while those off shift try to sleep through the interminable cacaphony of war.
No one, it seems - neither the men nor the women - would have it any other way.
"You have to realize you're in a man's world, and it's the nature of the beast - either you accept it and deal with their crap, or you get out," said Bombardier Lauren Rosadiuk, 26, a reservist from Edmonton.
"I think we keep them cleaner - 'Wash your hands, clean up your garbage,"' she chuckled. "It's a little more humanity, I think, having females around. It's a different dynamic, that's for sure."
It may not seem like "women's work," but the females have integrated seamlessly into the troop, many of them taking on supervisory roles, said battery commander Maj. Jamie Vieveen.
"They're just soldiers, like the rest of them," Vieveen said.
"Sometimes, they have a different outlook on life, I guess, and so they bring that into the fold too, which we need - not just all gung-ho guys. A woman will put a slightly different perspective on things, and that's fantastic."
The Canadian Forces began opening up its occupations, including combat roles, to women in 1989. Females currently comprise about 15 per cent of the Canadian military.
Only one woman has ever been killed in combat: Capt. Nichola Goddard, who died on the front lines in Afghanistan in May 2006.
It's sheer coincidence that C Troop ended up with so many women, said Warrant Officer Shane Clouthier, the troop's affable sergeant-major.
But for some of the younger male soldiers, it's their first time sharing living space with girls in such close quarters - a situation that prompted some friction in the troop's early days, Clouthier said.
"You see a few of the women, they'll get frustrated - 'I don't understand how he can't fold his laundry, why doesn't he put this away,"' he said.
"It really is evident with the women. It's pretty funny."
Having so many fellow females around definitely makes it easier, even though most women in the military have long been comfortable living and working with men, said detachment commander Sgt. Lejla Imamovic, 33, from Regina, Sask.
"I believe we do kind of look at things differently sometimes," said Imamovic, an ardent Saskatchewan Roughriders fan whose roots in the former Yugoslavia saw her through a tour in Bosnia as an interpreter.
"It could be a problem or a good thing; the guys look at it one way, and we always bring the other angle that the guys usually don't think of."
Any gender differences that may have existed in the past - many of them remnants of the military's deep all-male traditions-have long since vanished, Clouthier said.
"The men that are in this troop, they've welcomed the females in the troop, and they treat them exactly like another soldier," he said. They also respect their differences, which is why the usual testosterone-fuelled troop trappings are usually kept under wraps, he added.
"They understand that, yeah, there's a few things that the other gender may not appreciate."
For troop commander Lieut. Candice Dunn, that goes both ways.
"Guys will be guys, and I definitely wouldn't want to change that," said Dunn, 24. "As long as they're not offending anyone, they can have their opinions and tell their stories."
For Dunn, who hails from Sault Ste. Marie, Ont., the most difficult part about being a female soldier in Afghanistan has been the archaic attitudes of locals - most notably the members of the Afghan National Army who share a base with the Canadians.
In Afghanistan, women are treated as second-class citizens. Under Taliban rule, they were forbidden from working, going to school and were forced to cover themselves from head to toe - a legacy that's still readily apparent on the streets of Kandahar city.
So the sight of so many female gunners has been a considerable shock for the ANA soldiers who train with coalition.
"They're fascinated by us," Dunn said. "They always want to, like, touch you to see if you're real. It is frustrating - I almost want to yell at them, 'I'm not a novelty that's here for your amusement."'
Training members of the ANA and the Afghan national police is a vital component of NATO's mission in Afghanistan, the hope being that eventually, local security forces will have the training and the resources to manage security in their own country once coalition forces leave.
Dunn and her fellow female gunners are hopeful that their presence is part of the lesson for local Afghan soldiers, but they're not naive about just how much of an impact it will have.
"It's definitely frustrating for me to know that when we leave . . . it's not going to change too much," she said.
"At the same time, I don't want to push our culture on to them . . . . We have to let them be their own Afghan army, and if that doesn't include women, but it works for them and keeps their country free to a certain extent, then that's what we have to work with."
Rosadiuk agreed.
"It's like going back in time when you come here, like 2,000 years," she said. "I'm not sure if 10 years of us training them, whether they'll accept women in that role. I'm not sure it will ever happen."
For Master Warrant Officer Steve Rice, the battery sergeant-major, the composition of C Troop, combined with the leadership roles occupied by women, is proof positive that professionalism knows no gender barriers.
"It's being professional, is what it is," Rice said.
"We are all we've got, and you've got to know everybody's strengths and weaknesses, and the right person to do the right job, and they know that."
KANDAHAR PROVINCE, Afghanistan - In a crude bunker of wood, sandbags and mud that serves as the temporary home for a Canadian gun troop in southern Afghanistan, the typical trappings of a military that's long been dominated by men are conspicuous by their absence.
There are no X-rated pinups on the walls; the dodgiest magazine is a copy of "Mad." The salty language of war doesn't have quite as much tang. And a simple cardboard sign with drawings of stick people on either side makes it clear when the showers are off-limits to the boys.
Of all the gun troops operating outside Kandahar Airfield from B Battery, 1 Royal Canadian Horse Artillery, based in Shilo, Man., C Troop has all the females - no fewer than five out of a complement of 30 soldiers.
Being a gunner in Afghanistan is loud, dirty work. At night, C Troop works long hours lobbing illumination mortars to help light the way for coalition forces on night reconnaissance missions, while those off shift try to sleep through the interminable cacaphony of war.
No one, it seems - neither the men nor the women - would have it any other way.
"You have to realize you're in a man's world, and it's the nature of the beast - either you accept it and deal with their crap, or you get out," said Bombardier Lauren Rosadiuk, 26, a reservist from Edmonton.
"I think we keep them cleaner - 'Wash your hands, clean up your garbage,"' she chuckled. "It's a little more humanity, I think, having females around. It's a different dynamic, that's for sure."
It may not seem like "women's work," but the females have integrated seamlessly into the troop, many of them taking on supervisory roles, said battery commander Maj. Jamie Vieveen.
"They're just soldiers, like the rest of them," Vieveen said.
"Sometimes, they have a different outlook on life, I guess, and so they bring that into the fold too, which we need - not just all gung-ho guys. A woman will put a slightly different perspective on things, and that's fantastic."
The Canadian Forces began opening up its occupations, including combat roles, to women in 1989. Females currently comprise about 15 per cent of the Canadian military.
Only one woman has ever been killed in combat: Capt. Nichola Goddard, who died on the front lines in Afghanistan in May 2006.
It's sheer coincidence that C Troop ended up with so many women, said Warrant Officer Shane Clouthier, the troop's affable sergeant-major.
But for some of the younger male soldiers, it's their first time sharing living space with girls in such close quarters - a situation that prompted some friction in the troop's early days, Clouthier said.
"You see a few of the women, they'll get frustrated - 'I don't understand how he can't fold his laundry, why doesn't he put this away,"' he said.
"It really is evident with the women. It's pretty funny."
Having so many fellow females around definitely makes it easier, even though most women in the military have long been comfortable living and working with men, said detachment commander Sgt. Lejla Imamovic, 33, from Regina, Sask.
"I believe we do kind of look at things differently sometimes," said Imamovic, an ardent Saskatchewan Roughriders fan whose roots in the former Yugoslavia saw her through a tour in Bosnia as an interpreter.
"It could be a problem or a good thing; the guys look at it one way, and we always bring the other angle that the guys usually don't think of."
Any gender differences that may have existed in the past - many of them remnants of the military's deep all-male traditions-have long since vanished, Clouthier said.
"The men that are in this troop, they've welcomed the females in the troop, and they treat them exactly like another soldier," he said. They also respect their differences, which is why the usual testosterone-fuelled troop trappings are usually kept under wraps, he added.
"They understand that, yeah, there's a few things that the other gender may not appreciate."
For troop commander Lieut. Candice Dunn, that goes both ways.
"Guys will be guys, and I definitely wouldn't want to change that," said Dunn, 24. "As long as they're not offending anyone, they can have their opinions and tell their stories."
For Dunn, who hails from Sault Ste. Marie, Ont., the most difficult part about being a female soldier in Afghanistan has been the archaic attitudes of locals - most notably the members of the Afghan National Army who share a base with the Canadians.
In Afghanistan, women are treated as second-class citizens. Under Taliban rule, they were forbidden from working, going to school and were forced to cover themselves from head to toe - a legacy that's still readily apparent on the streets of Kandahar city.
So the sight of so many female gunners has been a considerable shock for the ANA soldiers who train with coalition.
"They're fascinated by us," Dunn said. "They always want to, like, touch you to see if you're real. It is frustrating - I almost want to yell at them, 'I'm not a novelty that's here for your amusement."'
Training members of the ANA and the Afghan national police is a vital component of NATO's mission in Afghanistan, the hope being that eventually, local security forces will have the training and the resources to manage security in their own country once coalition forces leave.
Dunn and her fellow female gunners are hopeful that their presence is part of the lesson for local Afghan soldiers, but they're not naive about just how much of an impact it will have.
"It's definitely frustrating for me to know that when we leave . . . it's not going to change too much," she said.
"At the same time, I don't want to push our culture on to them . . . . We have to let them be their own Afghan army, and if that doesn't include women, but it works for them and keeps their country free to a certain extent, then that's what we have to work with."
Rosadiuk agreed.
"It's like going back in time when you come here, like 2,000 years," she said. "I'm not sure if 10 years of us training them, whether they'll accept women in that role. I'm not sure it will ever happen."
For Master Warrant Officer Steve Rice, the battery sergeant-major, the composition of C Troop, combined with the leadership roles occupied by women, is proof positive that professionalism knows no gender barriers.
"It's being professional, is what it is," Rice said.
"We are all we've got, and you've got to know everybody's strengths and weaknesses, and the right person to do the right job, and they know that."
