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about the grounds. When they entered the beautiful regimental chapel, they discovered three recruits in full dress kneeling at the altar. When asked about their seeming devoutness, they explained their drill instructor had found them so despicable on the drill square that they were sent to the chapel to pray for forgiveness. Drill instructors were routinely hated at the outset of training, but then, strangely, they would emerge to become the best loved of all instructors. Many of us attributed this strange outcome to Stockholm syndrome.
    In our first two months at Depot, we faced many tough challenges. Most of us had survived the initial hurdles put in our way, but a bigger barrier lay ahead. The recruit population typically regarded the riding stables with fear and awe, and we were about to learn why.

CHAPTER 3

RIDE, TROT!
    “PARSONS, YOUR MOTHER shoulda thrown you out and kept the afterbirth, you useless little man!” Those words uttered by my riding instructor remain with me to this day. In 1966, equitation training was withdrawn from the curriculum. The stables in Regina were closed and the horses moved to Rockcliffe, Ontario, which became the home of the RCMP Musical Ride. This decision transformed the Academy in Regina forever. Although many senior RCMP officers subscribed to Winston Churchill’s oft-repeated phrase, “There is something about the outside of a horse that is good for the inside of a man,” this change freed up 140 hours within the curriculum for more contemporary law-enforcement topics. But in 1961, the stables influenced the entire Depot experience, both positively and negatively.
    After two months at Depot, we began our mounted training, which was in addition to academic subjects, practical training, typing classes, PT, swimming and foot drill. Our indoctrination into equitation presented another rite of passage, complete with unique and intense rituals and routines.
    Some members of the troop had never been up close and personal with a horse. These magnificent animals were like spoiled children and took advantage of every opportunity to show recruits that they were the prima donnas of the paddock. We had to earn our spurs, so these essential tools were denied us for the first 60 hours of riding. The horses were aware of this and generally ignored us, even when we were astride them. The riding staff hounded us constantly to move our mounts along, but no amount of urging with knees and heels would work. We functioned with minimal responses from our steeds and maximum yelling and insults from the riding staff. After hours of recalcitrant horses and assaultive instructors, we were finally allowed to don our spurs. Each and every man looked forward with glee to the next riding session when we could force our will upon our stubborn mounts; however, when the distinctive jingle of spurs reached the horses’ sensitive ears, they suddenly complied with every command. We would seldom have the opportunity to inflict our revenge. The few who tried quickly learned how challenging it was to control a horse’s enthusiasm when it was even slightly goaded by a spur.
    The riding stable staff was devoted solely to the horses, which were pampered, groomed, pedicured and fed as though they were sacred beings. RCMP mounts had evolved from providing everyday transportation during the Force’s early years to serving in ceremonial occasions after the advent of the automobile. These changing needs called for a different type of horse, and a breeding program was started in 1939. In 1943, the program became more sophisticated as Clydesdales, Percherons, Hanoverians and Trakehners were bred with thoroughbreds to produce a heavier-boned, well-mannered, hardy horse. The RCMP mount transformed into the majestic black animal now seen in the musical ride, approximately 16 hands in height, weighing between 1,200 and 1,300 pounds.
    The 60 horses in the Depot stables were all offspring of the breeding program, though some