Warning orders: prepare to write...

It never ceases to amaze me what I learn from readers of The Torch: the Canadian Forces Artists Program - about which we've written previously - has chosen its first poet to chronicle the work of our soldiers. Our correspondent knows the lady in question, Suzanne Steele, and speaks highly of her.

Ms. Steele has set up a website called War Poet, and here's how she's described her work so far:

smsteele is one of five artists nationwide to participate as a war artist in the 2008-2009 Canadian Forces Artist Program (CFAP). She is the first poet to be chosen for the program. in the course of research for her “deployment”, smsteele has spent hundreds of hours interviewing military personnel, visiting military bases and training centres, armouries and military functions. she will be going on exercise with the infantry several times in the next year.

new tans/may day project are the first two projects smsteele is working on as a result of her involvement with CFAP.

new tans is a record of the Canadian experience in Afghanistan.

may day is a series of letters in prose, poem, txt, email, of a young woman to her infantryman lover serving in Afghanistan.

She's also writing a "diary" - I'd call it a blog, but what do I know about online writing, eh? - that promises to be interesting, if her entries from the CMTC at CFB Wainwright are any indication:

my french, rusty, was good enough to gain me at least a bit of an opening into the world of 7 young guys refining the art of infantry… with their smattering of english, and my fundamental french (it always takes me a few days to rev it up again), we managed to travel through the depths of Wainwright in a LAV, go on patrol, sleep in a leaguer, share hard rations and hours of smoking (them), joking, chatting and perfecting that particular infantry skill of sleeping whenever and wherever you can…

I’ve been around the infantry enough to know that when there’s no “action”, one puts one’s head down (or back or on the next guy’s shoulder or…) close your eyes and go for it… last night was no exception

...

at 1 a.m., “Suzanne, Suzanne, get up, the Sergeant wants to see you at his LAV… we’ll escort you,”… it was the section commander…

I’ve hung around these guys long enough too, to understand that when you are asked to do something, you do it, RIGHT NOW… so I dressed (and it was freezing) faster than I’ve ever in my life, and headed out into the dark, starry night with the young soldier to the Sergeant’s LAV.

“Come on up,” was the invitation. I climbed the LAV in the near dark, another soldier beside me always, to make sure I was safe, and lowered myself into one of the LAV’s hatches where the Sergeant was waiting. A focused man with a passion for ice fields and mountain climbing, I spent the next hour and a half with him on duty, and we chatted about big things, kept watch, had a really interesting time, an experience I shall write a poem about soon (it’s bubbling), an experience I shall actually remember all of my life (I don’t want to write about it until I write the poem)…

all the while the warm hum of the LAV, the green lights of it’s interior, the starry night ringing quietly above

I find that I don't really care overmuch what she knows about soldiering; the fact that she cares about the soldiers she's working with shines clearly through in her writing, and it's enough. I get the distinct feeling she'll treat them well.

Best of luck, Ms. Steele. And BZ for taking this on.