"Brian," "Mark was not out that day lifting mines for peace, or for the kids
or civvies, or for Canada or the United Nations". "Operation Trident was
one of the most important tasks we had to date." "He was killed attempting
to make the ground safe so his "Buddies" in the infantry could get on with
the job they had to do without the fear of getting their Nuts blown off".
"We loved him".
above are words of WO Dan Hartford, 1CER, talking to Brian Isfeld on the
PMQ lawn of the recently killed Peacekeeper Mcpl Mark Robert Isfeld, 1CER
Chilliwack, spoken in Jun 1994.
Mark Robert Isfeld was born in Zweibrucken, Germany 14 August 1962. The
second of three boys granted us, He was a pudgy faced bundle of energy. We
were living in the town of Contwig, Germany, a result of my being
transferred to 3(Fighter) Wing, Royal Canadian Air Force in June of 1962.
Contwig is a picturesque little farming village close by the Air Base in
Zweibrucken.
Mark grew up in Contwig under the influence of our German neighbours and
other military families living in the same area, mostly Canadian and
American Service people. He attended German kindergarten and on our
repatriation to Canada in 1967, spoke German as well as, or better than English.
We arrived in July 1967 at the Royal Canadian Air Force base in Greenwood,
Nova Scotia, the province that Mark was to spend all his adolescent years
in. He attended school first at Dwight Ross school, located in the
permanent married quarters in Greenwood.
From July 1971 until December 1973 he attended Woodlawn Elementary in
Dartmouth, Nova Scotia, where we had been transferred to 880 Squadron,
Shearwater. His final years were at Middleton Nova Scotia Technical School,
graduating in the spring of 1980. While in Middleton his focus was on
machinist and welding, at which he became quite proficient.
Mark, with his brothers Leigh and Glenn, spent many joyous summer holidays
with his paternal Grandparents in Winnipeg, and his maternal Grandparents
George and Olina Donaldson of Norwood, Ontario. When in Manitoba, much time
was spent at Husavik, Manitoba on the shores of Lake Winnipeg and all three
boys enjoyed being there immensely.
Afflicted with the natural wanderlust of the young, Mark made his first
thrust into the world of self - sufficiency by going to Winnipeg to look
for work. He stayed with his paternal grandparents until he found an apartment of his own.
He worked in Winnipeg
about one year, then headed for Edmonton, Alberta where the sequence of
events leading up to this account of what should presumably have been an
average life began.
The very short account of Mark's early years is noted solely to emphasize
the very normality of this young soldier. It exemplifies the suspicion that
we all are products of circumstantial and environmental influence as his
letters will show.
All Military Engineers working in the minefields, despite background, or
upbringing, or geographical origin; regardless of rank or responsibility,
have a common belief in, and feeling for, their fellowman and the job they
are doing. It is a dangerous and treacherous job daring death constantly.
Their confidence in their abilities, and their co-workers abilities, to
carry it out in a dignified, compassionate, and highly professional manner,
as a Canadian Field Engineer, the best in the world, is unshakeable.
All peacekeepers, in spite of position, location, nationality, or status
while serving in this horrifying situation work under extreme pressures and
harsh conditions. In the former Jugoslavia, or in any other theatre of
peacekeeping operations, they carry out the wishes of their nation while the
people of Canada enjoy the fruits of the sacrifices made by the many who
went before, in two world wars and Korea, and in many previous peacekeeping
operations. Unfortunately this freedom and peace is largely taken for
granted by most, who go about their business oblivious to
the cost.
According to the news releases, Mark was the 100th Canadian peacekeeper to
be killed on duty since Canada commenced involvement in peacekeeping. (there
has been approx 150 in actuality) He was the 10th to die in the former
Jugoslavia.
Mark, who was only one of approximately 2000 Canadian personnel in the
former Jugoslavia, had been involved with several journalists and filmmakers
just prior to the accident. Thus a comprehensive documentation of his
actions and duties was on record. In at least three instances, with John
Howse of Macleans magazine, with Nick Procaylo of B.C. Report magazine
and with Garth Pritchard of the National Film Board of Canada, the contact
was more than just an interview or photo opportunity. Mark's natural
ability to make friends had personalized these meetings.
On 17 July 1994 I wrote to Mark's pen - pal in Ottawa with an explanation
of the situation as I knew it then. I have included parts of it it here as
it helps to show some of the mysterious events.
Brian Isfeld
Jul. 17 94
Dear Ken
I am writing this immediately after our telephone conversation Sunday.
Good to talk to you and in some way carry on the friendship started by Mark.
As I noted, there were many coincidental happenings surrounding the death
of Mark and his grandfather that are unexplainable in the immediate sense,
and perhaps unexplainable in the future.
I do not have the official report yet, but have talked to the people who
were involved and at the scene. As I understand it, the area they were
working, near Kakma in southern Croatia, was extremely important. "Operation
Trident" had to be completed by June 29, 1994, or perhaps the Serbs and
Croats would have broken yet another cease fire. The area was in a ZOS (
Zone of Separation ) under UN control, and one side or another ( probably
the Serbs or Chetniks ) had blown up a water pipe serving the Croatian side.
The inference was that "If the UN cannot look after strategic emplacements
in their areas, then perhaps we, the Croats and Serbs, will look after it in
our own manner," i.e., "warring and killing."
As for some coincidence surrounding the whole event: About the beginning
of April 1994, I had an urge to compile the writings by, and about, Mark's
grandfather Arlie, my father, an educator for years and now residing in St.
Joseph's Extended Care facility due to the ravages of Strokes and Alzheimer
disease. He was under the influence of a loss of speech that gradually
overtook him, and a loss of memory that so often accompanies this process.
Dad had been made comfortable as possible under the circumstances by the
staff at the facility, who, incidentally are a special breed of person with
amazing compassion and care. I used to go to feed him at noon, as the staff
was busy at this time and help was appreciated. (Feeding
150 patients at once is a mind boggling task if you think of it!) Also, as
I could not communicate with dad verbally, it enabled me to do something
more than just stand beside his bed with nothing to do. I talked to my
father right up to the end as if he comprehended all that was being said to
him, and I believe that he was well aware of just what was happening and
what circumstance he was in.
He had an appetite like a horse and this was a benchmark I used in
evaluating his comfort and condition at any given time. About two weeks
before Mark's tragic death, I noticed an abrupt change in dad; his appetite
was diminished, and where he used to laugh out occasionally, he now
had small outbursts of crying that lasted for about three seconds. I
attributed this to his having pain somewhere in his deteriorating body and
brought it to the attention of the staff, who concurred. He contracted a
kidney infection, which was not surprising considering the age and state of
his health, but antibiotic cleared this up relatively well. It was apparent
however, that something was radically different in regards to his mental and
emotional state, which he of course could not convey to us in speech.
Dad had very few words with which he responded to questions asked of him.
One of the few was, when I was feeding him, I would ask him if he liked what
he was eating and he would say clearly, "sure," or if I said to him "was
that good?" He would say "yes." About one year previous, he was shown a
picture of Mark and without prompting or any help he said very clearly
to the staff member showing him the picture, "Mark."
In the bed opposite to dad resides Jack Hames, a local naturalist and
nature lover who, had they been able to converse, would have been a perfect
match for companionship. In the bed on the other side resides Gordon
Johnson, whose wife Jean used to feed dad when I was not able to be there,
and whose son in law just happened to be the Colonel in charge of all
engineers in "UNPROFOR". [United Nations Protection Force]
Colonel Mike Gauthier's wife, Trish, had seen a picture of Mark hanging
above "Arlie's" bed and had asked me about it one day. She lives in
Kingston, Ontario, and was visiting due to Gordon taking a turn for the
worse. We struck up a friendship that would be normal for two people given
the situation at hand. Gordon's wife Jean, and Trish also, said that Mark
and Mike should meet in Croatia and chat.
Large difference in the life style and duties of the Colonel in charge and
the then Corporal Field Engineer! This meeting did, however, take place in
Croatia before Mark was killed.
Gordon's wife took extremely ill, and I attempted to maintain contact with
her in intensive care. I wanted to relay to Trish, now home in Kingston,
Ontario, the condition of her mother and assure her that Gordon was doing
fine. Due to the fact there were no family members in the immediate area,
Trish was between a "rock and a hard place" because she had three small
children at home and her husband was in Croatia so far, far away.
Returning to the anthology I had started on dad and still add to regularly:
It was fairly well completed, and I sent to Mark in Croatia the first rough
draft. He received it very well stating in one of his few phone calls that
it brought lots of good memories flooding back to him
and was comforting.
Much of my father's great love for nature, the flowers and animals,
the birds and bees, thelove of gardening and growing things had rubbed off
on Mark. They both had the same care and compassion for the very young and
the elderly. Both were extremely generous in giving their timeand effort to
any who asked or needed help.
June 19, 1994 I left home in Courtenay bound for Winnipeg to pick up some
personal belongings. I stopped in Chilliwack that night and stayed with
Kelly. We had a nice visit and went out for some Chinese food. I was
secure in the knowledge that dad seemed to be in better shape and that my
wife Carol, who visited him regularly at supper time had everything in hand.
I had a pleasant visit with Kelly, who was excited that in just one week
Mark would be home on his UN leave. They were to take a trip to Reno with
"Weasel" Gauthier and his wife Dineen, then would visit us on the island.
I left for Edmonton Alberta the next morning, where I was to visit with my
two other boys Leigh and Glenn, and my sister Pat Mackenzie in Leduc. I
arrived that night in Leduc and stayed with Pat, intending to go to the
boys' place the next morning. This was not to be, as that morning my wife
called about 11.00 a.m. Edmonton time with the distressing news and we
immediately arranged for me to fly back to B.C.
On to part 3
Back to part 1