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KINGSTON, Ont. -- Forty years after the American military was allowed to test-bomb
a New Brunswick army base with deadly "Agent Orange" herbicide, the
Canadian government is finally admitting that veterans are dying as a result of
being poisoned.
The Department of National Defence has confirmed that in 1966, U.S. forces
doused forested areas of the Gagetown base with the infamous chemical defoliant,
testing it for clearing jungle during the Vietnam War.
Since then, Agent Orange has been linked to a horrifying array of cancers,
diabetes, respiratory diseases and blindness among U.S. veterans -- not to mention
two generations of sick Vietnamese -- and even birth defects in children of
vets.
But for decades, the Canadian military has refused to acknowledge the Gagetown
horror ever happened, much less any connection between Agent Orange and sick
vets.
Sun Media has now learned that 10 months ago, for the first time in four decades,
the government quietly accepted a medical compensation claim from a retired
Canadian brigadier-general stricken with leukemia.
A decorated officer of foreign wars with the Calgary Highlanders, Gordon Sellar
rose to the very top of Canada's military, retiring as head of Canada's land
forces.
But, during this storied career, he also commanded the Black Watch regiment
at Gagetown -- sadly, at the precise time the U.S. was poisoning the place with
Agent Orange.
In a landmark decision, the Department of Veterans Affairs has ruled Sellar's
cancer was caused by his exposure to Agent Orange. "The department is aware
that Agent Orange was used as a herbicide for defoliation on the training grounds
of CFB Gagetown," the confidential memorandum states.
"The department accepts the medical opinion (of Sellar's doctors) and
the results of published U.S. medical research that establishes a causitive
relationship between Agent Orange exposure and the development of chronic lymphocytic
leukemia."
The decision was so strong and unequivocal that it provided the maximum possible
pension compensation.
More significantly, it should open the door to similar claims from potentially
thousands of other sick and dying Canadian vets exposed to Agent Orange at Gagetown.
An official at Veterans Affairs admits the department has done nothing to publicize
the Sellar decision, nor otherwise reach out to help victims of Agent Orange.
"Perhaps when your article appears, more will come forward," the
official said.
If so, the Sellar decision will stand as a fitting final salute to a revered
general who cared deeply about the men in his command, a soldier who would have
done anything to spare others the medical misery wrought upon their ranks.
A decorated war hero who survived the bloody battlefields of Europe and Korea,
it is surely beyond cruel that Gordon Sellar would be felled on a chemical killing
field at his own army base.
On Oct. 1, 2004, two weeks after the first compensation payment appeared in
his pension cheque, the brigadier-general lost his final battle, a 15-year fight
with the cancer he inherited from Agent Orange.
At his side as she had been throughout his long illness was the love of his
life, Gloria, his wife and soulmate of 60 years. At 77, for all the hard years
of caring for her ailing husband, she remains a remarkable woman of quiet grace,
intelligence and wit.
If the Agent Orange victory belongs to anyone in this country, it is to this
elegant lady of steely tenacity for whom even the indomitable defence bureaucracy
was clearly no match.
- - -
The first time Gloria saw the chemical drums with their telltale orange stripes
was in U.S. army trucks parked at the Oromocto Hotel next to the Gagetown base.
"We were between houses and staying at the hotel," she recalled during
an interview last week. "The American soldiers were staying there, too,
and would come in every evening filthy dirty. It was no secret what they were
doing. Of course, no one realized the potential of what was happening at the
time. I hate to think what happened to those poor men."
Gordon Sellar began his career fighting overseas in the Second World War with
the Calgary Highlanders. By the time he reached Gagetown in 1963, he was a colonel
and commanding officer of the 1st Battalion, Black Watch, with more than 1,000
men under him.
Like all infantry in training, they probably spent more time on their bellies
than on their feet. Little did they know they were crawling through an invisible
swamp of deadly poison.
"We exercised for lengthy concentrated periods in the contaminated areas,"
he would later write in one official memo. "We lived on the ground in camp
and trained both day and night. Our food was prepared there ... in areas that
had been defoliated.
"We didn't know it was Agent Orange."
Gloria has trouble looking at photographs from those days; the one of Gordon
in his full field gear, another of the two of them when they were leaving Gagetown
in 1967.
"I look at the two of us in that picture, and think, gosh, we just didn't
have a clue what had happened... By then, it (Agent Orange) was already there;
it had started."
Over the next decade, Sellar continued marching to the top of the military,
retiring in 1977 as the director-general of Canadian land forces in Ottawa.
Gloria says the ensuing 15 years were a dream fulfilled, living on a 58-acre
country estate north of Kingston, close to their three grown children, free
to pursue a lifelong passion for horses that first brought the couple together
as kids growing up in Calgary.
As always, Gordon kept in top physical condition. Until one day in 1994 when
the dizzy spells started.
A simple blood test revealed the horrible truth: He had a form of leukemia
that could spread cancer anywhere in his body at any time -- one of the diseases
being associated with Agent Orange.
By then, the effects of the odious Vietnam herbicide were being loudly debated
in the U.S., with hundreds of thousands of vets on a special government health
watch.
Before long, Gloria put it all together with the orange barrels and the American
soldiers at the Oromocto Hotel.
"We were obviously shattered by all this, and I said to the doctor at
the time that this man was exposed to Agent Orange.
"And he just said, 'Oh?' He didn't know anything about it."
- - -
The Kingston condominium is dominated by two large oil paintings on opposite
walls, portraits of Gordon and Gloria Sellar staring out at the one thing that
mattered most in their six decades together -- each other. The two faces painted
in happier times are looking across a huge dining table covered in stacks of
books, research papers and correspondence.
It is all the ammunition in Gloria's arsenal, a 15-year campaign to bring sense
to the unthinkable -- her husband's slow decline into a medical hell, not of
his own making.
It started with debilitating bouts of pneumonia that put him into hospital,
his immune system all but wiped out by the leukemia. Then came the tumours --
first one under his eye, then on the side of his head, then one in his ear,
which took so much chemotherapy his trips to the clinic became daily.
Every time her husband was examined by doctors from Veterans Affairs, Gloria
was on their case about Agent Orange.
Why was it not being recognized by the Canadian government, the same government
that let the Americans spray it all over Gagetown? And, what about thousands
of other men exposed?
She started burying Veterans Affairs in letters and thick files of information
she had gathered on Agent Orange.
"They were actually very good with me. They seemed quite surprised by
some of the information I was giving them. It's just that everything moves so
very slowly."
Everything except her husband's cancer. By 2000, he was in a wheelchair, and
their beloved country estate, horses and their teams of prize hunting dogs were
all gone.
In May 2003, he entered a chronic care hospital to recover from an emergency
hernia operation. He would never go home.
Despite virtually moving into the hospital, Gloria kept up her crusade for
justice. All she wanted was a simple recognition that Agent Orange was killing
her husband, and possibly legions of others like him.
She tried to track down members of the Black Watch who had served under him.
Many were sick. Many more had already died. All were afraid to talk about the
dirty secret of Gagetown.
The Canadian defence department wasn't helping. As late as February 2004, the
Canadian military posted a stunning "health bulletin" on its government
website. By then, more than 10,000 American veterans of the Vietnam War were
in active treatment for cancers and other diseases related to Agent Orange.
Another 312,000 were under medical surveillance.
Yet the Canadian bulletin stated "extensive research" had concluded
that "Agent Orange was unlikely to be the cause of the (Vietnam) veterans'
symptoms or illnesses."
Only months after the bulletin was issued, Gloria won her case with Veterans'
Affairs, the government having finally acknowledged Agent Orange had given her
husband terminal cancer.
He died a few weeks later.
- - -
Gordon Sellar's funeral attracted some of Canada's finest soldiers still alive.
One of them, a young lieutenant in the Black Watch at Gagetown during the tests
was asked how he was doing.
"Not too well," he replied. "No one seems to know why, but I
have throat cancer, and I have never smoked."