Story by Randolph Rice
Throughout Canadian military history, there have been many symbols associated with its traditions and esprit de corps, most notably in the form of mascots. Mascots are found in many shapes and sizes, some real and some not. During the Second World War, the 1st Canadian Parachute Battalion’s mascot was a German Shepherd named Johnny Canuck who parachuted along with his battalion behind enemy lines during the early hours of D-DAY, 6th June 1944. There exists a famous photograph of Johnny with the Regimental Sergeant Major, Warrant Officer I, Wendell James Clark prior to D-DAY. Sadly, both perished on that momentous day.
During my service with 2 Combat Engineer Regiment, Airborne Grouping, we had a mascot named TAZ. He was a stuffed Tasmanian devil, much like the one featured in the bugs bunny cartoons. At two feet tall and approximately one pound in weight, he embodied the spirit of the Airborne Engineer, independence, aggressiveness and loyalty.
As the story goes, TAZ made his debut with 1 Airborne Field Squadron in 1975 and was quickly adopted into its ranks, but where he was from is open to speculation. His introduction to jumping was quite rudimentary and consisted of a leap from a barrack block roof. TAZ’s response was immediate, “is this all there is?, I want to be one of the guys”. So TAZ was equipped with a silk main parachute, a reserve parachute, a beret and a camouflage parachute smock – all, custom made. He even had snowshoes for easy maneuvering on the snow. Later, he received his own identity discs (dog tags) approved by National Defence Headquarters with his name and service number. TAZ did not like the term “dog tags” and could often be heard grumbling about it; it being a soldiers right to grumble.
It is usual for soldiers to come and go, moving frequently within the unit and outside to new locations. TAZ remained loyal to the airborne mystique and was “airborne all the way”. As a result, TAZ had more jumps then some of his airborne comrades, each descent recorded in his parachute jump book. At TAZ's suggestion, all jumpers new to the unit would be required to accompany him on their first descent with the unit to heighten their confidence. He usually referred to them as “baby jumper” and often yelled as he came within 150 feet of the ground, “Release me!” A tug on the parachute waistband and down he went under his own silk. Each jump TAZ made was a good one, he never collided with or stole another fellow’s air; maintaining jump integrity all the time was his goal. TAZ never required refresher training (the paratroopers least favoured activity connected to jumping) due to his high level of professionalism.
Taz was always up for adventure – and drama! On a cold wet spring day in Petawawa, TAZ jumped with his comrades onto Drop Zone Anzio. This was not to be his day. Winds were strong and when TAZ was released, he quickly became separated from his comrades. Any paratrooper who has floated onto Anzio will know it to be a drop zone of depressions, varying in degrees of depth, filled with water. TAZ succumbed to one of these obstacles and disappeared from sight. Despite best efforts to find him, he was not seen for months and paratroopers went into mourning. There was no replacement.
A few months later with the onset of the dry season, TAZ was discovered in one of these depressions worse for wear. When found, his uniform was in shambles and what was deciphered from his garble, was that he had been in mortal combat with some four legged adversary (speculation from the conversation suggests the other guy got the worst of it). After a thorough cleaning, tumble in the dryer, patchwork, refit for a new uniform and sick leave, TAZ got the green light by the medical officer and rejoined his comrades. He took it all in stride and said, over a few beers, “Where the hell have you been?".
From time to time, other paratroopers attempted to kidnap TAZ as a rivalry trophy. Most were unsuccessful, except one when the Airborne Military Police succeeded where others had failed. It happened during a beer call, where we suspect TAZ was at his weakest and had been shadowed most of the evening.
During his confinement, TAZ was subject to interrogations, blindfolded and exposed to public humiliation by having his picture published in the base newspaper. Of course, the ransom note hung around his neck did not help the situation. Nonetheless, in the spirit of comradeship, his fellow paratroopers met the demands of his tormentors and TAZ was released unharmed with only a slighted ego.
Among his treasures, TAZ highly valued his United States Army Parachute Wings awarded while in Fort Bragg. He needed five jumps with U.S. paratroopers to qualify and during a formal parade, the U.S. parachute wings were pinned on his jacket.
That was not the first of his numerous travels. In 1980, TAZ accompanied his beloved airborne engineers on a jump onto Drop Zone Colorado for a three-week stay at Fort Carson. From an RCAF C-130 Hercules TAZ and his comrades anticipated the graceful updrafts, breezy warm gentle winds and avoided the prickly bushes, tarantulas and tumble weed (at least he did) as they descended to a warm welcome, the first ever visit by Canadian paratroopers. TAZ was an immediate hit with the locals, although he found the Colorado dialect challenging and took advantage of every PA opportunity to convey how proud he was to be a Canadian Airborne Engineer. TAZ particularly enjoyed the benefits of the small unit exchange by swapping badges, picture opportunities for the local paper, war stories, throwing back a few bottles of ripple wine, a local brew, and enjoying the odd Colorado stogy. Of course, he took time to complete some serious unit training and pass on tactical pointers to his American counterparts.
Over the next fifteen years, TAZ partook in more adventures and completed over one hundred jumps from various types of aircraft. Now I come to the close of my story or is It? TAZ stayed with the Airborne Engineers until 1995, when after the Somalia Affair, the airborne engineers within 2 CER were disbanded. Taz unofficially TAZ retired from his airborne duties. He was heartbroken when his airborne life ended. Although he felt he abandoned, his beloved engineers saw to it that TAZ would be forever etched in their memory. They built him a reinforced cage with all the comforts of home complete with a lock for his own protection. LCol Doug Foreman’s book, 50 Years of Airborne Engineers in the Canadian Army has a full two-page article on Taz’s life and importance.
If over the years, you attend an Airborne reunion, you may be lucky enough to find yourself sitting with TAZ and hear a distinct growl, “Where the hell have you been?” Do not be alarmed, he may even buy you a drink. TAZ is everlasting, between 1955 and 1995 over five hundred soldiers, each one a volunteer, served with the airborne engineers. TAZ’s story is synonymous with their sacrifice and mottos Ubique and Out of the Clouds. He proudly stands along side that enduring airborne symbol of Bellerophon astride Pegasus and remains today a part of the airborne “Mystique".