Superintendent Glen Greenhill, left, looks on as Retired Lt.-Col. Steven Deschamps is awarded the Sovereign's Medal Citation from Lt. Gov.- Janet Austin on behalf of the Gov. Gen. Mary Simon during a ceremony at Government House in Victoria, B.C., on Dec. 5.Chad Hipolito/The Globe and Mail
Retired lieutenant-colonel Steve Deschamps wore full military dress as the Sovereign’s Medal – Canada’s highest award for volunteerism – was pinned to his chest.
The only outward sign of his life-altering battle with Canada’s Armed Forces was another piece of hardware: a rainbow-coloured military bar worn on his blue uniform. The Canada Pride Citations were awarded to members of a class-action suit over the gay purge that cost him a promising officer’s career in the Air Force and derailed his personal life more than 40 years ago.
Starting in the 1950s, the Canadian government ran a secretive campaign against employees who were members, or suspected members, of LGBTQ2 communities. Broadly, official discrimination against gays ended in Canada in 1969. But the military and some arms of government maintained that homosexuals posed a national security risk as they might be vulnerable to blackmail.
It’s not known how many people were forced out in the purge, but more than 700 people sought compensation under a historic class-action settlement with Canada that was finalized in 2018.
He was one of the first purge survivors to return to the service when the discriminatory policy was terminated in 1992. And since his retirement, the military is still very much part of his life – he has volunteered with the air cadets for a dozen years, developing a flight simulator for training that is used across the country.
On Dec. 5, B.C.’s Lieutenant-Governor Janet Austin honoured Mr. Deschamps with the Governor General’s award for exceptional volunteerism. “You give me hope for a better world,” she said.
Mr. Deschamps had every reason to turn his back on the military, after the trauma of the purge.
“I knew when I was young that my calling was the Air Force,” he said in an interview before the awards ceremony. He joined the air cadets in 1969 at the age of 13, and then served as a reserve officer before enrolling in the Canadian Armed Forces in 1979 as a pilot.
He led a double life, excelling in the service but keeping his private life a secret. He would visit Vancouver’s gay clubs on weekends while posted in Chilliwack, B.C., then when he was transferred to Montreal, he struck up his first romance, which he took care to keep off base.
Mr. Deschamps took a posting in Ottawa in the military’s public relations arm, unaware he was under surveillance. In 1982, his senior officer told him to meet with the military’s Special Investigative Unit. He was assured it was a routine security screening related to his next promotion.
He was led into a small, soundproofed room by two men in civilian clothes. The atmosphere, he said, was “shady.” On the table, there was a thick Manila folder, with the word “secret” stamped on it. His inquisitors withdrew from it an anonymous, typed letter that accused him of making sexual advances on a cadet.
“My heart stopped. None of that is true,” he recounted.
He was interrogated over a period of months, and made to take a polygraph. He eventually admitted that he was gay, prompting his dismissal.
He was offered no counsel, was read no rights. “I was told it was all under the Official Secrets Act and I couldn’t tell anyone,” Mr. Deschamps said.
Mr. Deschamps’s discharge documents say he was “no longer advantageously employable.”
He quickly took a civilian communications job, and told family and friends he had chosen the change for better pay. For a decade he remained deep in the closet, always worried about being found out.
Mr. Deschamps’s discharge documents say he was 'no longer advantageously employable.'Chad Hipolito/The Globe and Mail
In 1992, Mr. Deschamps tested HIV-positive, which he considered at the time to be a death sentence. He did not have access to the life-saving drugs that would later become widely available.
Believing he had nothing to lose, he decided to launch his own war to make the military a safer place for the LGBTQ2 community. He re-enrolled with the expectation of being rejected, so that he could sue. “I was thinking I would die having done some good in the world.”
But his plan fell apart.
While his application was being processed, Michelle Douglas – another purge survivor who had already taken the military to court – won a landmark legal ruling, forcing the military to end its discriminatory practices. Thanks to her effort, he found himself back in the service while the ink was barely dry on the ruling.
The other thing that didn’t go according his plan is that he didn’t die. Another development in 1992 was that British Columbia began covering the costly but life-saving antiretroviral medications for HIV/AIDS under the Medical Services Plan. With those drugs, Mr. Deschamps’s condition would begin to turn around.
He retired in 2013, after more than two decades of service. Since then, he has, as a volunteer, trained and mentored air cadets – a new generation that finds nothing remarkable in his pride citation.
It was 2017 when he finally understood the scale of the purge. Prime Minister Justin Trudeau read an apology in the House of Commons for Canada’s actions. “It is our collective shame that Canadians who identify as lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, queer, or two-spirit were unjustly treated – fired from jobs, denied promotions, surveilled, arrested, convicted, and vindictively shamed because of their sexual orientation or gender identity. People lost their livelihoods, their families, and, some, their lives,” Mr. Trudeau said then.
It was a profound moment of healing, Mr. Deschamps said. “I sobbed like a baby.”