Monday, April 13, 2020
Wow, what a guy!
It was a great privilege for me to get to know him, and I am saddened and empty at his passing.
Garth was a true cowboy poet, and the only cowboy I ever knew who could ride his horse with a dog, his beloved Australian blue-heeler named Blue, laying behind the saddle. The dog was almost as much of a hard-ass as Garth.
The medium of Garth’s poetry was film, and his unique personality enhanced every scene in all of those that he made. He was a mover and a shaker, and he knew a humbling number of famous and influential people from all walks of life. Every one of them respected him.
I met Garth during the war in Croatia where I was the Warrant-Officer of a Troop+ of combat engineers whose job was to locate, neutralize, and clear landmines, booby-traps, and unexploded fired ordnance across that war ravaged land. Garth made a film about us while on contract with the National Film Board. It was called “The Price of Duty”, and for us it was a remarkable experience.
We were not initially happy to meet Garth. By then we had had a bellyful of lightweight “media types” who had somehow convinced the Department of National Defense to allow them into our little war zone, to become pains in our collective ass. We really had better things to do than babysit artsy types while trying not to get ourselves, and them, killed.
It took no time before we realized that Garth was different, a truth teller, and 100% supportive of us in every way. The film took an unexpected turn in concept and content when a tragic event killed one of our comrades and badly wounded another during a mine clearance operation one day. Garth’s approach to film making made it so that we were happy to be part of what became a tribute to our fallen and wounded comrades, memorialized for posterity on film.
Garth’s personality garnered him inclusion in military operations beyond previous levels available for civilian filmmakers. He was accepted by soldiers across the board, which was a fine and rare thing at that time.
My last contact with Garth left him upset, and me feeling bad because I was disappointing him. It was maybe around 2010. By then I was a civilian private security contractor living in downtown Kandahar, far from any military presence, but still armed and in the thick of hostilities with the Taliban.
Garth wanted to meet, ride around, and film some of what we were involved in, which was all aligned with and supporting the ISAF agenda, but not operating under its umbrella. I refused. It would have been too dangerous for Garth because if we got into any kind of trouble (shootout, bomb attack, etc.) there would have been no military support for us.
I did not want to be the guy who got Garth Pritchard killed, but true to form, Garth was unconcerned about personal risk. He was very frustrated with me, but things in war zones are different when there is no cavalry ever going to come when you’re in a jam, and I had a lot deeper understanding of that than Garth did. I have no regrets about my decision, but I wish things could have played out differently. I really did like Garth.
To Sue and the rest of his family, thank you. I know that Garth would not have been who he was without your influence and support. I am sorry for the pain that you feel now with his passing, and I hope that perhaps in knowing how appreciative so many people are of his work, the hurt of his passing is tempered at least a little bit.
RIP Garth; artist, historian, adventurer, and champion of the Canadian solder.
Thanks for all you've done for Canada.
Rest easy brother. – Dan Hartford