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A couple of interesting articles, although Marin made some good headway he was a showboat and a self- righteous little snot who loved the spotlight a little too much for my liking. He always referred to the Ombudsman's office as if it was his own litte fiefdom "MY office investigate this, "MY office investigate that." IMHO the new Ombudsman should be a retired Judge, somebody with a little more maturity and with no ties to the CF (optics of autonomy)
PUBLICATION: The <Whitehorse> <Star>
DATE: 2005.03.21
SECTION: Opinion
PAGE: 9
COLUMN: Comment
BYLINE: Weston, Greg
DATELINE: <Ottawa>
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The brass won't miss this watchdog
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Sometime during the evening of Feb. 8, a young <Canadian> <sailor> aboard <HMCS> <Montreal> disappeared overboard into rough and icy seas off the coast of Poland, never to be seen again.
Even as the <navy> searched in vain for 24-year-old Robert Leblanc, reporters were told he had been swept to his death after venturing out on deck for a smoke, ignoring posted warnings of dangerous conditions.
Three days later, military ombudsman Andre <Marin> was casually scanning the morning news wires when something in a <Halifax> dispatch hit him with a jolt.
The missing <sailor> didn't smoke.
<Marin> immediately got on the phone to naval investigators, and jumped on a plane the next morning to assist the military board of inquiry in <Halifax>.
While he was at it, <Marin> tore a public strip off the military brass for jumping to conclusions, his criticisms splashed on the front pages of the next day's newspaper.
"The knee-jerk reaction (of the military) is to immediately have a theory for a death and put it out there," <Marin> said. "And the theory happen(ed) to blame the person for his own disappearance."
It was all vintage Andre <Marin>, typical of the tenacious and outspoken watchdog of the <Canadian> military - champion of ordinary soldiers; darling of the media; bete noire of the often intransigent bureaucracy at National Defence headquarters.
After marching to his own drummer for the past six years, <Marin> is about to left-right straight out the door at the end of this month to become Ontario's new ombudsman.
In a wide-ranging interview over lunch, <Marin> was respectful of the military, but gave me the impression he will miss the brass about as much as the generals are likely to miss him.
"It has happened that a senior officer has called me to his office at defence headquarters, pointed to his commission on the wall, and told me that as long as it is hanging there, this is the way we are going to do things," <Marin> recalled with a mischievous smile and a shrug.
More than once he has arrived at a general's office, "and the officer would ask: 'How did you get in here? Who let you in?' It happened a lot. They had trouble understanding I am the ombudsman. I am allowed to be there."
No surprise on that count. <Marin> is no old fogey in a starched uniform. He's barely 40, looks younger, and likes to dress in civilian slacks and open-neck shirts.
The generals had no history of dealing with an ombudsman. When <Marin> started his job in 1999, he literally started the job.
Born of the Somalia inquiry into murder, mayhem and cover-ups, the ombudsman's office was created by the Liberal government of the day more to satisfy critics than to solve problems facing ordinary soldiers.
"The first year (the brass) was completely opposed to our conducting any kind of investigation," <Marin> says.
"We were just supposed to review a paper trail, and if we saw something fishy, report it to the authorities."
For months, he butted heads with the brass until then-defence minister Art Eggleton armed him with broad investigative powers and freedom to use them.
Since then, the ombudsman's office has become a champion for soldiers wounded by the what many feel is the biggest, most hard-headed bureaucracy in the federal government.
In the past year alone, Marin's shop conducted six major field investigations and handled 2,000 other complaints, what he describes as "less formal cases" that can usually be resolved from a paper trail and "leaning on the chain of command."
More than anything, perhaps, <Marin> has become a hero to families of soldiers killed in military accidents. When Cpl. Rick Wheeler was crushed by a tank during exercises at Suffield, Alta., in 1992, the military blamed the soldier for getting run over.
"His widow fought 12 years to get this case reviewed," <Marin> said, his anger evident.
"When I finally handed her a copy of the report, she said to me it was the first time since her husband was killed that she knew how he had died. There's no reason for that."
Another high point was helping to get compensation for veterans used as guinea pigs to test poisonous mustard gas 60 years ago.
"I told them I was going to fix this somehow, and they looked at me, this young guy, and thought I was dreaming."
<Marin> warns the worst mistake the government could make would be to replace him with someone in uniform.
"I cannot possibly imagine it. There's no way the job could be done by anyone in uniform, period. Maybe a young, retired judge, someone with fire in his belly. It's a tough, demanding job."
Whoever it is will be filling very big shoes.
PUBLICATION: The Chronicle-Herald
DATE: 2005.03.21
SECTION: Opinion
PAGE: A4
SOURCE: On Target
BYLINE: Scott Taylor
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Don't name ex-officer ombudsman
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
LAST THURSDAY I sat down to breakfast with the <Canadian> Forces ombudsman for the last such unofficial get together before Andre <Marin> leaves his post at the end of this month.
During his seven-year tenure as ombudsman, <Marin> and I met regularly to exchange gossip, swap war stories and occasionally plot mischief. At our first meeting, I was admittedly quite guarded, as the 39-year-old former Crown prosecutor had no military experience and was being handed the monumental task of bringing external oversight to the Defence Department in the wake of the Somalia scandal.
But over time, <Marin> has proven himself to be sincere in his pursuit of genuine reform.
Unfortunately, members of the military brass were never too fond of outsiders questioning their authority, and the newly created Office of the Ombudsman found it difficult to make any headway against such institutionalized obstruction.
Without the sweeping powers of punishment that would have been granted to a full-fledged inspector-general, the compromise position of ombudsman gave <Marin> only enough freedom to "embarrass" the Defence Department into taking corrective measures.
To maximize this public clout, <Marin> found it necessary to reach out to the national media and thus earned himself a reputation as a truly independent watchdog. But the more reports released by <Marin> garnered headlines of wrongdoing, the more the generals and bureaucrats closed ranks to shut him out.
As the rank and file became aware of this widening rift, the once-ridiculed Ombudsmidget became the well-regarded and trusted Budman. The shift in the troops' loyalty only further miffed the generals, particularly when soldiers made their common concerns known to the ombudsman during his numerous fact-finding missions to operational bases.
Needless to say, top Defence Department officials were quietly overjoyed last December when <Marin> announced he was stepping down to take a position with the Ontario government.
In announcing his resignation, <Marin> said he wished to be involved in picking his successor. He understood the continued resentment toward his established team of investigators and knew his initial reforms were incomplete.
Unfortunately, it seems the generals and military lawyers at National Defence headquarters were able to convince Defence Minister Bill Graham otherwise.
The first clue that the next ombudsman will be hand-picked for compliance rather than combativeness was buried in the small print of the job notice. It was specified that an applicant must have full knowledge and experience of the military culture. In other words, they are looking for a former senior officer.
The competition has closed and final interviews are being conducted. Not surprisingly, the short list consists of a retired admiral, a retired general and a retired judge advocate general officer. Regardless of the competency of these individuals, the appointment of any of them as ombudsman will ring a death knell for that organization.
The junior ranks who file grievances would hardly trust a former senior officer to investigate his old chums with objectivity.
When <Marin> made a public protest about the narrow selection process, he was attacked by Graham's spokeswoman. "Mr. <Marin> is obviously not to be involved and will not be involved in the choice of his replacement," Isabelle Savard said.
More troublesome was a personal dig at <Marin> by Savard, who said Graham was looking for an ombudsman "who will put the greater good of the <Canadian> Forces before his own profile."
To suggest that the future military watchdog will be neither seen nor heard would be to deprive the ombudsman's office of its already limited clout - to exercise public disclosure.
One can only hope Graham will come to his senses and reopen the selection process. The team <Marin> leaves behind can easily forge ahead under an acting ombudsman until a suitable replacement can be found.
The troops deserve no less. First hit - Premier mot clé
PUBLICATION: The <Whitehorse> <Star>
DATE: 2005.03.21
SECTION: Opinion
PAGE: 9
COLUMN: Comment
BYLINE: Weston, Greg
DATELINE: <Ottawa>
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The brass won't miss this watchdog
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Sometime during the evening of Feb. 8, a young <Canadian> <sailor> aboard <HMCS> <Montreal> disappeared overboard into rough and icy seas off the coast of Poland, never to be seen again.
Even as the <navy> searched in vain for 24-year-old Robert Leblanc, reporters were told he had been swept to his death after venturing out on deck for a smoke, ignoring posted warnings of dangerous conditions.
Three days later, military ombudsman Andre <Marin> was casually scanning the morning news wires when something in a <Halifax> dispatch hit him with a jolt.
The missing <sailor> didn't smoke.
<Marin> immediately got on the phone to naval investigators, and jumped on a plane the next morning to assist the military board of inquiry in <Halifax>.
While he was at it, <Marin> tore a public strip off the military brass for jumping to conclusions, his criticisms splashed on the front pages of the next day's newspaper.
"The knee-jerk reaction (of the military) is to immediately have a theory for a death and put it out there," <Marin> said. "And the theory happen(ed) to blame the person for his own disappearance."
It was all vintage Andre <Marin>, typical of the tenacious and outspoken watchdog of the <Canadian> military - champion of ordinary soldiers; darling of the media; bete noire of the often intransigent bureaucracy at National Defence headquarters.
After marching to his own drummer for the past six years, <Marin> is about to left-right straight out the door at the end of this month to become Ontario's new ombudsman.
In a wide-ranging interview over lunch, <Marin> was respectful of the military, but gave me the impression he will miss the brass about as much as the generals are likely to miss him.
"It has happened that a senior officer has called me to his office at defence headquarters, pointed to his commission on the wall, and told me that as long as it is hanging there, this is the way we are going to do things," <Marin> recalled with a mischievous smile and a shrug.
More than once he has arrived at a general's office, "and the officer would ask: 'How did you get in here? Who let you in?' It happened a lot. They had trouble understanding I am the ombudsman. I am allowed to be there."
No surprise on that count. <Marin> is no old fogey in a starched uniform. He's barely 40, looks younger, and likes to dress in civilian slacks and open-neck shirts.
The generals had no history of dealing with an ombudsman. When <Marin> started his job in 1999, he literally started the job.
Born of the Somalia inquiry into murder, mayhem and cover-ups, the ombudsman's office was created by the Liberal government of the day more to satisfy critics than to solve problems facing ordinary soldiers.
"The first year (the brass) was completely opposed to our conducting any kind of investigation," <Marin> says.
"We were just supposed to review a paper trail, and if we saw something fishy, report it to the authorities."
For months, he butted heads with the brass until then-defence minister Art Eggleton armed him with broad investigative powers and freedom to use them.
Since then, the ombudsman's office has become a champion for soldiers wounded by the what many feel is the biggest, most hard-headed bureaucracy in the federal government.
In the past year alone, Marin's shop conducted six major field investigations and handled 2,000 other complaints, what he describes as "less formal cases" that can usually be resolved from a paper trail and "leaning on the chain of command."
More than anything, perhaps, <Marin> has become a hero to families of soldiers killed in military accidents. When Cpl. Rick Wheeler was crushed by a tank during exercises at Suffield, Alta., in 1992, the military blamed the soldier for getting run over.
"His widow fought 12 years to get this case reviewed," <Marin> said, his anger evident.
"When I finally handed her a copy of the report, she said to me it was the first time since her husband was killed that she knew how he had died. There's no reason for that."
Another high point was helping to get compensation for veterans used as guinea pigs to test poisonous mustard gas 60 years ago.
"I told them I was going to fix this somehow, and they looked at me, this young guy, and thought I was dreaming."
<Marin> warns the worst mistake the government could make would be to replace him with someone in uniform.
"I cannot possibly imagine it. There's no way the job could be done by anyone in uniform, period. Maybe a young, retired judge, someone with fire in his belly. It's a tough, demanding job."
Whoever it is will be filling very big shoes.
PUBLICATION: The Chronicle-Herald
DATE: 2005.03.21
SECTION: Opinion
PAGE: A4
SOURCE: On Target
BYLINE: Scott Taylor
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Don't name ex-officer ombudsman
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
LAST THURSDAY I sat down to breakfast with the <Canadian> Forces ombudsman for the last such unofficial get together before Andre <Marin> leaves his post at the end of this month.
During his seven-year tenure as ombudsman, <Marin> and I met regularly to exchange gossip, swap war stories and occasionally plot mischief. At our first meeting, I was admittedly quite guarded, as the 39-year-old former Crown prosecutor had no military experience and was being handed the monumental task of bringing external oversight to the Defence Department in the wake of the Somalia scandal.
But over time, <Marin> has proven himself to be sincere in his pursuit of genuine reform.
Unfortunately, members of the military brass were never too fond of outsiders questioning their authority, and the newly created Office of the Ombudsman found it difficult to make any headway against such institutionalized obstruction.
Without the sweeping powers of punishment that would have been granted to a full-fledged inspector-general, the compromise position of ombudsman gave <Marin> only enough freedom to "embarrass" the Defence Department into taking corrective measures.
To maximize this public clout, <Marin> found it necessary to reach out to the national media and thus earned himself a reputation as a truly independent watchdog. But the more reports released by <Marin> garnered headlines of wrongdoing, the more the generals and bureaucrats closed ranks to shut him out.
As the rank and file became aware of this widening rift, the once-ridiculed Ombudsmidget became the well-regarded and trusted Budman. The shift in the troops' loyalty only further miffed the generals, particularly when soldiers made their common concerns known to the ombudsman during his numerous fact-finding missions to operational bases.
Needless to say, top Defence Department officials were quietly overjoyed last December when <Marin> announced he was stepping down to take a position with the Ontario government.
In announcing his resignation, <Marin> said he wished to be involved in picking his successor. He understood the continued resentment toward his established team of investigators and knew his initial reforms were incomplete.
Unfortunately, it seems the generals and military lawyers at National Defence headquarters were able to convince Defence Minister Bill Graham otherwise.
The first clue that the next ombudsman will be hand-picked for compliance rather than combativeness was buried in the small print of the job notice. It was specified that an applicant must have full knowledge and experience of the military culture. In other words, they are looking for a former senior officer.
The competition has closed and final interviews are being conducted. Not surprisingly, the short list consists of a retired admiral, a retired general and a retired judge advocate general officer. Regardless of the competency of these individuals, the appointment of any of them as ombudsman will ring a death knell for that organization.
The junior ranks who file grievances would hardly trust a former senior officer to investigate his old chums with objectivity.
When <Marin> made a public protest about the narrow selection process, he was attacked by Graham's spokeswoman. "Mr. <Marin> is obviously not to be involved and will not be involved in the choice of his replacement," Isabelle Savard said.
More troublesome was a personal dig at <Marin> by Savard, who said Graham was looking for an ombudsman "who will put the greater good of the <Canadian> Forces before his own profile."
To suggest that the future military watchdog will be neither seen nor heard would be to deprive the ombudsman's office of its already limited clout - to exercise public disclosure.
One can only hope Graham will come to his senses and reopen the selection process. The team <Marin> leaves behind can easily forge ahead under an acting ombudsman until a suitable replacement can be found.
The troops deserve no less. First hit - Premier mot clé
