My service with the Royal Canadian Navy and the Cadet Instructor Cadre (CIC) has been one of the most rewarding and meaningful aspects of my lifelong commitment to leadership, mentorship, and community service, and particularly, with youth.

Joining the Naval Reserve in 1992, I have had the privilege of serving through the officer ranks, progressing from Officer Cadet to Lieutenant (N). Throughout my naval career, I have held a variety of leadership and support roles, including Training Officer, Administration Officer, Operations Officer, Executive Officer, Unit Human Rights Advisor, and Commanding Officer.

One of the greatest privileges of my CIC service has been my time with Royal Canadian Sea Cadet Corps Fort William, where I had the honour of serving four terms as Commanding Officer. During those appointments, I worked alongside dedicated officers, civilian volunteers, cadets, parents, and community partners to provide young people with opportunities to develop leadership skills, confidence, discipline, teamwork, and a sense of service.

Commanding a cadet corps reinforced one of the values that has guided my entire career: leadership is fundamentally about helping others reach their potential. The young men and women who participate in the Canadian Cadet Program come from diverse backgrounds and bring unique strengths and aspirations. Most kids came to the cadet program because it was inexpensive.  Some parents used it as a babysitting service, others were fully invested in what it was about.  Our unit was intentionally located on the south side of the city and we attracted inner-city kids. We were  within walking distance.  Many kids showed up to get the "free winter coat".  After three weeks of attendance we got them kitted up.  Some stayed, others didn't.

Supporting their growth and development has been both a privilege and a responsibility.

Through my CIC service, I have seen firsthand the positive impact that mentorship and structured leadership opportunities can have on young people. The Cadet Program provides far more than training—it creates an environment where youth can build resilience, develop citizenship skills, learn the importance of teamwork, and discover their own capacity to lead.

My naval service has also provided opportunities to continue developing my own leadership skills through military training and professional development, including Commanding Officer qualifications, officer development programs, human rights training, and operational leadership experiences. These lessons have complemented my civilian career in policing, security, education, and community service.

The principles that have guided my naval and CIC service are the same principles that have shaped my professional life: integrity, respect, accountability, commitment, and service to others.

 Whether leading police officers, security professionals, university teams, or young cadets, I have always believed that the measure of leadership is not the position one holds, but the positive influence one has on the people and communities they serve.

People sometimes imagine cadet leadership is primarily about standing in front of a classroom or leading a parade. The visible part was the easy part. Behind every training night were lesson plans, instructors, attendance, uniforms, equipment, transportation, budgets, records, parents, permissions and an endless list of things that had to be dealt with before a cadet ever walked through the door.

Training nights were only the most visible part of the commitment. Much of the work happened before the cadets arrived and after they went home. Weekends were often occupied by parades, competitions, exercises, field training, ceremonial events, fundraising, community activities and courses. Summer brought camps and extended training commitments. There were meetings with parents, other instructors, sponsoring organizations and senior leadership. There were reports to complete, problems to solve and, inevitably, the unexpected issues that required someone to step forward and deal with them.

In many respects, leadership in the program was much like leadership anywhere else: you were responsible for the people, the program and the resources entrusted to you. The uniform and the rank were the visible parts of the job. The real work was planning, organizing, supervising, mentoring, solving problems and making sure that, when the cadets arrived, everything was in place for them to succeed.

It was a significant commitment, but it was also an extraordinarily rewarding one. You were not simply teaching a class or supervising an activity. You were helping shape young people, giving them opportunities to discover who they were, what they were capable of, and sometimes becoming one of the adults they would remember long after they had left the program. Some of the cadets that were in the program have become leaders and officers, with children of their own, who are now cadets.  

I reflect particularly fondly on one troubled young lad who came through the cadet program.

Christopher was an average cadet. It took him some time - as it does many of us in our mid-teen years - to find his way. At the time, I don't think any of us knew exactly where life would take him. And he had a brush with the law. 

Years later, after a Remembrance Day parade, I was approached by a young man in his early twenties. He was grinning from ear to ear.

“Sir, do you remember me?”

I looked at him and immediately recognized him.

“I certainly do, Christopher,” I replied.

He smiled and gestured toward the little boy standing beside him.

“Sir, this is my son. He’s four.”

Then he said something I remember 30 years later.

“I remember what you said. I remember you told us to respect what Canadian veterans did for us. You told us we should come to Remembrance Day services. So I'm here, Sir. And my son is here with me.”

There was nothing particularly remarkable about Christopher when he was a cadet. In fact, it appeared he wasn't going to succeed in cadets at all. His attendance wasn't good. He didn't pay attention when he was present, and  he was the kid who always forgot something - he would be in running shoes because he couldn't find his boots.  He split his time between two houses - with Mom and Dad - and eventually with a grandparent -  after his parents discovered they needed to manage their own demons.  He regularly left parts of his uniform at the other parent's house.  He'd forget his white top, or his tie, or lanyard.  On the whole, he wasn't the one  kid I would necessarily look back on cadets as being a highpoint in his otherwise young life. 

I would have not predicted that Christopher would remember those lessons years later.

But he did.

And that little boy standing beside him was proof that something had stayed with him.

That moment reminded me of something I have come to understand about youth leadership: 

You don't always get to see the results of your work.

I'm happy to report that after his son was born , Christopher got his life squared away.  He stopped engaging in criminal activity. He got a job as a night cleaner and was providing for his young family. 

Sometimes the lesson doesn't take hold immediately. Sometimes the young person doesn't seem to be listening at all. Sometimes you wonder whether anything you said or did got through, let alone made a difference.

Then, years later, a young man walks up to you with his four-year-old son and tells you that he remembered.

That's leadership.

I didn't realize that I had made an impact. I don't think I had  changed his life so obviously, but somewhere along the way, I planted something that stayed with him.

And now he was passing it on to his son.

I am not a combat veteran, but I am a Canadian Peacekeeper.

When I returned from Palestine, I had the honour of addressing Remembrance Day crowds, speaking as what I sometimes described as the “modern veteran.” I stood a little prouder that day. I was very conscious that I was representing a generation of Canadians whose military service looked different from that of the veterans who had fought in the great wars, Korea and Afghanistan -  but whose commitment to Canada and to those we served was no less real.

Remembrance Day has always meant something special to me.

Perhaps that is why 11 November 2024 remains particularly memorable.

I retired as a CIC Officer from my Canadian Armed Forces Reserve career in April 2025. The Remembrance Day before that — 11 November 2024 — would be my last Remembrance Day in uniform.

My friend and colleague, “Magic” Ken Milenko, had organized the South Side Thunder Bay Remembrance Day Service for as long as I can remember. Ken’s commitment to the Legion is remarkable. He is one of those people who understands the importance of Remembrance and makes sure that the service is done properly, year after year.

That year, he had a surprise waiting for me.

Ken had deliberately not published the name of the Reviewing Officer.

I arrived at the venue just after 9:00 in the morning with the cadets, expecting to do what I had done countless times before — support the service, help the cadets, and have them participate in the ceremony, both on parade and as escorts for those laying wreaths.

Then Ken approached me.

“Would you like to be the Reviewing Officer?”

For a moment, I was almost speechless.

I had spent much of my adult life in uniform. I had marched in Remembrance Day ceremonies, taught young cadets about the meaning of service and remembrance, addressed crowds as a Peacekeeper returning from an international mission, and proudly and humbly stood alongside veterans from generations before me.

And yet, in spite of my service, I had never really considered myself worthy of an honour of this enormity.

And now, on my final Remembrance Day in uniform, I was being asked to serve as the Reviewing Officer.

I can't adequately describe what that meant to me.

I swell with pride even writing about it now.

There was something profoundly fitting about that moment.

I had spent years telling young people about the importance of remembering those who had served Canada. I had visited Vimy and Hill 70 with a level of reverence that I still find difficult to explain. Standing on those battlefields, surrounded by the evidence of what Canadians had endured, made the meaning of service and sacrifice very real.

I had encouraged cadets to attend Remembrance Day services, to stand respectfully among veterans, and to understand that the freedoms and opportunities they enjoyed had come at a real and unimaginable cost - paid by others.

And here I was, on my last Remembrance Day in uniform, standing before those same cadets.

It was not the ending I had planned for my military career. In fact, I hadn't planned an ending at all when I first put on a uniform so many years earlier.

But it was a pretty damn good way to finish.

As I stood there that morning, I thought about the thousands of Canadians who had worn the uniform before me - those who had gone to war, those who had endured their own living hell making and keeping untenable peace, those who had never come home, and those who returned carrying the torment of what they had seen -  and done.

I thought about the cadets standing in front of me.

And I thought about Christopher.

Years earlier, I had simply asked a young cadet to understand the importance of Remembrance.

Years later, he had returned with his four-year-old son to show me that he had listened.

And now, on my final Remembrance Day in uniform, I had the privilege of standing before another generation.

That is the part of service that stays with you.

The uniform eventually comes off. It is unceremoniously returned to a stores clerk.

The medals go into the drawer.

The parade boots are hung up.

But if you have done your job properly, something remains.

Perhaps it is a lesson remembered by a young cadet.

Perhaps it is a son brought to his first Remembrance Day service.

Or perhaps it is simply the quiet knowledge that, for a time, you were part of something bigger than yourself.

On 11 November 2024, I stood a little prouder.

And I was grateful then and I remain exceedingly grateful for the opportunity to have served the Royal Canadian Navy as a CIC Officer and to have contributed to the Canadian Cadet Movement. 

The friendships, experiences and lessons gained through that service have enriched my life immeasurably.

More importantly, the experience strengthened my belief in the responsibility we have to develop the next generation - not simply by teaching them skills, but by helping them understand service, responsibility, respect, leadership and the obligations that come with being part of something larger than themselves.

Perhaps that is what I was really doing all those years.

I wasn't simply teaching cadets.

I was helping them find their way.