Mario Millette

I was overwhelmed with emotion as I was told I was going on a United Nations peacekeeping tour for six months. I had always wanted to wear the Blue Beret at least once in my career. It was to be on the Golan Heights in northern Israel, very near the Syrian border. I started to learn all I could about the UN mission there, to know and understand my exact role and why we were there. I went, because of my trade, to be the chief dispatcher for all passenger vehicles on the camp, which was about 35 plus four buses and eight drivers. There were a few pictures on the internet showing a bit about how Camp Ziouani was set up, and it looked like a great place to do a tour. 

I also learned that the Barracks are shared with the Japanese Contingent. They were on their 7^th UN Tour directly from Japan with little to no English language skills whatsoever. This really intrigued me and that led to many friendships along the way. I had brought my guitar over and I would play in the barracks. Occasionally we would all gather and drink a little SAKE and play some Johnny Cash and other tunes. I had also brought over some close-up magic tricks that I had been working on. I had spent a great number of years in barracks life before, which is similar to living in university dorms, so there is aways a game of cards or whatever going on. 

The Japanese fellas were catching scorpions and at lunch time they would put them in a small cardboard enclosure, like a boxing ring, the betting would start, and the scorpions would fight to the death. Over in our Canadian canteen, people played cribbage and other card games. In between, we did training and practiced going to the bunkers with our full gear, until we got it right; good old military. 

On some weekends, we could cross the border through various checkpoints to visit Syria. Driving into Syria there is a section of no-mans-land where the buildings are demolished flat with cars still in the garage, crushed by the house — reminders of past suffering. The first time I went, it felt like turning back time 500 years. We drove to Damascus, Syria avoiding the manholes in the road because there were no covers, having been stolen, sold, whatever. Going for a visit to see the Souk to purchase all kinds of neat things, first the smell of spices would overwhelm, then perfumes, then spicy foods. All were beautiful scents. The shops were filled with Syrians but zero tourists, just us Blue Beret soldiers with a bit of cash. Everyone offers you tea, but we soon learned never to drink one, as it would cause severe, sudden, explosions in your pants, a lesson one Japanese soldier learned as he ran down the hall screaming at three in the morning. 

Another element that made it a great tour for me was the presence of wonderful people around me who were so proud and happy to make it all the well-oiled machine that it is. It was a successful tour for all of us but mind you it was also calm. Of course word got around that I played guitar, so my Commanding Officer hooked me up for a show for the Austrians at position 22 in the desert, a machine gun outpost. So, Saturday morning they came and got me, along with another guy who also played guitar, and off we went to entertain. 

Another adventure involved a courtesy visit of our commanding officer to Mount Hermon on the Syrian side. He asked me to be his driver and told me to bring tire chains. We went with another Toyota UN white vehicle and headed to the border crossing from Israel to enter Syria. With the Colonel in the jump seat, he explained where we were heading, to visit the Austrian Mountain Infantry unit that was posted there. After a couple of checkpoints, they recommended to put the tire chains on as we were coming into snow covered roads. We continued to climb for a while, then we came upon our final checkpoint where we parked just outside a big garage door. Everyone was shaking hands, and we were offered a quick visit. All I can say is, it was very similar to a James Bond movie when he is being chased by guys on white skis, white suits, goggles, and a machine gun. When my commanding officer was finished, we headed back down the mountain, took the chains off, and headed back, but to our surprise the Syrian border was closed. Plan B was go sleep at Camp Fouar, another UN Camp much like ours, occupied by Poles, Canadians, and a few other Blue Beret Peacekeepers. 

My days were filled with keeping the vehicle fleet going, trying to maintain peace amongst the troops, full action, if need be, and of course adding fun and playing jokes on each other. Japanese people are downright funny. Along with my guitar and magic tricks, I had packed a rubber snake, rubber tarantula, and a couple of other bugs. Every morning we would all shave at the same time as the Japanese soldiers. I told my roommate about my devious plan, and he was all-in. I put the rubber snake in my towel and right after I was all lathered up, I reached down and started screaming ‘snake.’ I had it by the head and was shaking this thing, meanwhile heading towards the exit (still screaming), went outside, and tossed it under the wood stairs. Then I walked in, all relaxed, and continued to shave. An hour later, the Colonel was looking for me, and came around to congratulate me for taking the snake out. That’s when he informed me that the Japanese Colonel wanted to have tea with him and I. Just go with the story and get back up now, eh?

I saw some awesome sites on this tour including Damascus, Egypt, and most sites in Israel. Being a Peacekeeper in the Middle East during the time I was there, from Jun–Nov 99, things were peaceful on both sides, thankfully. I retired from the CF in 2004 as a Transportation Platoon Warrant Officer at Edmonton, AB, and moved back to my hometown of Sorel, QC.