Behind every Invisible Warrior is a story. These are told by the veterans themselves, in their own words, and shared with their permission.
Where It Began: Chapter 1
Colonel (Retired) James Gludo is a director of the Invisible Warrior Society. On a Remembrance Day several years ago, a conversation he overheard at the Legion changed how he saw the veterans around him. This is how the idea behind the Invisible Warrior Project began, in his own words.
My story. Well, not really a story, inasmuch as it is the beginning chapters of my story. Several years ago, I was at a Remembrance Day ceremony and was talking to a young man. After a few minutes of conversation, he revealed to me that he was a veteran. I thought to myself that it was good that we have young veterans joining in on this day. Later that same day, I attended the local Royal Canadian Legion. While there, I was once again talking to a young man wearing a Legion uniform. He had a few medals that were presented by the RCL and wore them proudly on the right side of his jacket. I soon discovered my prejudice: I had assumed that he was a civilian member of the Legion, but he too was a veteran. He introduced me to his wife who, I was surprised to discover, was also a Legion member and a veteran.
As I enjoyed the festivities presented by the Legion, I took note of the civilians talking to the older generation of veterans. They were enthralled to have “real” veterans gracing their event. Many asked these veterans about the medals they wore. It wasn’t long before I overheard a conversation where they were discussing medals, and that you can always tell a veteran by the medals on their chest. They said, “It’s too bad we are losing all our veterans.” I thought to myself that it wasn’t true. In the space of an hour, I had met three young veterans, and I was confident that the CAF was releasing many people each year. Each one released was a veteran.
As I watched the interactions unfolding in front of me, I saw that the civilians would not believe that there were veterans without medals. I quickly realized the paradox: WWII veterans had all received at least one medal for their service, whereas in modern-day Canada you only receive a medal if you have been fortunate enough to deploy to an area of operations, or if you have served in the military for a total of twelve years. Of course, there were other medals given out over time, such as the Queen’s Jubilee Medal or the Canada 125 Medal, but only a smattering of members were fortunate enough to be selected as recipients.
The conversation I had overheard came back to me in an instant. Civilians believe we are losing our veterans because they equate medals with veterans. Many, many veterans have served who did not stay with the military for twelve years, nor were they selected to deploy on an operation. They still served honourably, yet they were invisible to the public, especially on Remembrance Day. I started to wonder how many veterans did not have any medals. I wanted to let the public know that veterans are plentiful, and that we needed to establish a way to show that.
In the days that followed, I started to flesh out an idea. I was made aware that approximately 60% of all veterans do not have a medal. Those 60% were Invisible Warriors. The easiest way to make them visible is to align them with the public’s view: every veteran has a medal. Many organizations have tried to get a volunteer service medal to recognize all our military members, and the concept has always been denied by the government of the day. The Invisible Warrior Project is attempting to raise awareness of these veterans with the Canadian public, and with that visibility, the public will push the government to create a medal that recognizes every military member’s service.
Stay tuned for future chapters of my story.
Colonel (Retired) James Gludo
One Medal for Thirty Years
Major (Retired) Len Francis, the Society’s Chief Operating Officer, served 30 years in uniform. He spent much of it getting other soldiers ready to go, and he stands on parade today with one medal. This is his story, in his own words.
When I stand on parade, I wear one medal. Around me are chests full of operational and commemorative medals, and those are the people the public comes over to talk to. If Ben, my service dog, weren’t beside me, I don’t think most people would stop at all.
I served 30 years in uniform, 23 of them pensionable. Much of that time was spent getting other soldiers ready to go. During the Gulf War, I trained and prepared soldiers and sent them to Kuwait. Years later I did it all again for Afghanistan. While they were over there, I kept in touch with them constantly, offering advice, counsel, whatever they needed.
Not all of them came home the same, and not all of them came home. I lost a soldier in Afghanistan. After the Gulf War, I lost a couple of soldiers to PTSD.
I never did an operational tour myself. Early in my career, reserve officers weren’t taken into command positions in theatre, so I was never selected. Later, when that changed, it wasn’t the right time for me and my family.
I also missed every commemorative medal of my era: the Canada 125 Medal, the Queen’s Jubilee Medals and, most recently, the King’s Coronation Medal. Mostly, I didn’t know they were available. When they were handed out, I wasn’t in the pecking order. I’ve since written to MLAs to ask whether anything could still be done. The answer was no; the window has closed. My Canadian Forces’ Decoration and its clasp are all I wear for 30 years.
My story isn’t unusual. Canada has about 461,000 veterans, and about 280,000 of them have never received a medal. Many served faithfully without ever deploying: training, supporting and sending others. Some of us still stand on parade with little or nothing on our chests. Many more don’t come at all. They feel invisible, underappreciated, even inadequate. They left without so much as a handshake, and today they stay away from military events and Remembrance Day.
In the public eye, medals are how service gets seen. They let people recognize a veteran at a glance, they start conversations, they earn respect, and they tell families and communities what their veteran gave. That’s why we started the Invisible Warrior Project: to recognize every Canadian who served, fairly and consistently, whether or not they ever deployed, so that no veteran feels they have to stay home on Remembrance Day.
Major (Retired) Len Francis
Part of Afghanistan, but not in it
Not every Invisible Warrior served overseas. During the Afghanistan mission, soldiers at home carried some of the heaviest work there is: answering casualty calls in the middle of the night, notifying families, and standing beside them through repatriations and funerals. Ryan Friesen was one of them. This is his story, in his own words.
I served 10 years in the Canadian Armed Forces, including several years working full-time as G1 Services with 41 Canadian Brigade Group during the Afghanistan mission.
Part of my job was providing direct support for Canadian soldiers wounded and killed in Afghanistan. That meant getting casualty calls on my BlackBerry at 3 a.m., coordinating notification teams, supporting families in their homes after receiving the worst news imaginable, and helping coordinate repatriations and funerals.
This was all considered exceptional service above and beyond our normal workload. My performance evaluations consistently reflected that, particularly during Task Forces 1-08 through 1-10.
Despite that, I finished my military career without a single medal or formal recognition for that work.
It wasn’t just about not receiving a medal. It was the feeling that the institution I had served for a decade had forgotten about people like me. Eventually, that feeling extended to the veteran community itself. I stopped attending Remembrance Day ceremonies because I was tired of feeling like I had to justify my service and the traumatic experiences that came with it.
The work was relentless, and much of it has stayed with me long after leaving the Army.
I’ve often asked myself: Was I part of Afghanistan but not in it? Or was I in it but not part of it?
I wasn’t in Afghanistan, but Afghanistan was certainly part of my service. I’ve often wondered why that doesn’t seem to count.
I still don’t know where people like me fit into that history.
Captain (Retired) Ryan Friesen
Share your story
Stories like these are exactly why the Invisible Warrior Society exists. If you, or someone you love, served without recognition, we would be honoured to hear your story. Please get in touch through our Contact page.