Canadian infantryman convicted of shooting wounded Taliban recounts incident in new book
“I couldn’t possibly have imagined that after the four months I had just spent in the Stan my life could have become any more bizarre, scary or surreal, but I was wrong."
By Andrew Duffy, The Ottawa Citizen August 21, 2012
OTTAWA — Former infantry officer Robert Semrau, who was dismissed from the Canadian Forces for shooting a severely wounded Taliban insurgent on an Afghan battlefield, has ended a two-year silence with the publication of a new book.
The book, The Taliban Don’t Wave, attempts to place the controversial events of Oct. 19, 2008, into a broader context. Slated to be published later this month, the 312-page book details the stress, horrors and heroics of Semrau’s four-month tour of duty in Afghanistan, which ended with his arrest on a charge of second-degree murder.
“What you are about to read is an account of soldiers who live, fight, and die in a moonscape of a country where it’s sometimes hard to tell your friend from your enemy,” the book jacket reads.
The book represents Semrau’s first public response to his court martial, demotion and dismissal by the Canadian Forces.
Writes Semrau of the experience: “Looking back on it all now, with hindsight, and with more clarity than I had at the time, I’m amazed that I survived with any shred of sanity.”
Semrau, then 36, was the first Canadian officer to stand trial for a battlefield shooting. His Gatineau court martial drew national attention both for its moral complexity and its pathos.
Then stationed at CFB Petawawa, Semrau did not testify during his trial or at his sentencing hearing. And he all but disappeared from public view after being told in October 2010 by military judge Lt.-Col. Jean-Guy Perron that he was unfit to wear a Canadian uniform.
Semrau was convicted of disgraceful conduct for shooting a Taliban fighter grievously wounded when blasted from a tree by an Apache helicopter.
He was acquitted of three other charges — second-degree murder, attempted murder and negligent performance of a military duty — in connection with the same incident.
Testimony suggested that Semrau, a model officer, shot the insurgent in an act of mercy to end the man’s suffering. The body of the unidentified victim was never recovered.
It’s not yet known whether Semrau admits to the shooting in his new book, only excerpts of which are available online.
However, in a foreword, retired Maj.-Gen. Lewis MacKenzie reveals that Semrau deals with the incident in a brief passage that begins after the insurgent is left to die by Afghan soldiers.
“Captain Semrau’s description of what happens next takes less than 10 seconds to read and, interestingly, that was probably the amount of time he had to decide what to do before catching up to his Afghan counterpart.”
MacKenzie takes strong issue with Semrau’s subsequent court martial, arguing that he should have been judged by officers with combat experience. The four-member panel that decided the case included a navy commodore, two air force majors and an army captain, none of whom had any background in combat operations, MacKenzie says.
What’s more, MacKenzie contends, Semrau should have been allowed to remain in the military after his conviction.
At the time, the chain of command insisted Semrau’s release was required to deter future incidents and to send a message to other soldiers.
“I strongly disagree,” MacKenzie writes. “When a soldier is faced with a similar situation in some far flung battlefield in the future, and has those 10 seconds to reach a decision, no regulation nor memory or knowledge of Captain Rob Semrau’s court martial will spring to mind.
“It will be his or her own moral code that will dictate their response — nothing more, nothing less.”
The vast majority of Semrau’s book deals with his tour of duty in what he calls “the Stan” as leader of a four-man Canadian mentoring team embedded with an Afghan rifle company.
They were stationed at a forward operating base west of Kandahar, Sperwan Ghar, in an area frequently targeted for mortar attacks and IED bombings.
Semrau recounts his arrest and trial in the book’s epilogue.
“I couldn’t possibly have imagined that after the four months I had just spent in the Stan my life could have become any more bizarre, scary or surreal, but I was wrong,” Semrau writes of his arrest by two military police officers on Dec. 31, 2008.
“The Afghanistan chapter came to an abrupt end, then my life as an accused murderer began for me and my family.”
Semrau describes a “heartbreaking reunion” with his wife, Amélie, and infant daughter at the CFB Petawawa military jail: “Of course, we were grateful I was still alive when so many of our soldiers had only come home from that place in coffins. But the reunion was tempered by the fear of me being ripped away from them and sent to a federal prison for the next 20 years of my life.”
Semrau says his wife was incredibly strong during the ordeal. “When I thought I was going to lose my mind over the surreality of it all, or was close to collapsing in fear, she would pick me up again and tell me everything was going to be okay.”
Amélie gave birth to the couple’s second daughter, Chloé, as the court martial neared its conclusion.
During the trial, Semrau says, he compartmentalized his fear and placed his faith in God.
“I firmly believed that if God could take care of me in the Stan, then God could take care of me during a murder trial,” he writes.
The Saskatchewan-born Semrau remained perfectly stoic throughout his trial, but he reveals the façade was difficult to maintain.
“At least in combat I could act and react,” he writes. “But in court, I couldn’t jump to my feet and shout, ‘That’s a damn lie!’ I had to just sit there and not allow myself to become angry or sad or scared, or seem overly interested or disinterested by what someone on the stand was saying. For seven months of court, I had to just sit there and take it.”
Ultimately, he says, while disappointed by the verdict, he was relieved the panel did not find him guilty of a more serious charge.
“Obviously I was hoping I could still continue to serve my country, but I was grateful to not be going to jail for the next 20 years.”
Semrau’s last day as a Canadian soldier was Jan. 7, 2011, when the paperwork was finalized to remove him from the military.
“It broke my heart to be kicked out,” he writes. “I knew then, as I do now, that the CF is made up of the best men and women that Canada has to offer, and I am incredibly proud to say that there was a time when I was in charge of its soldiers.”
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