Canada’s reservists have a long tradition of supporting the army and helping the
population in emergencies. The Hull reserve detachment is an active site, already with some 140 reservists in training. This strategic location—not far from the Ottawa River,
but far enough from Parliament and the Senate—helps ensure the regiment is capable and prepared for action.
As decades pass, the focus of reservists shifts. Forest fires, floods, accidents and
pandemics have traditionally been their civic responsibilities. In the last two years, however, a renewed effort to prepare for ground combat has been underway, largely without fanfare.
Late last year, in 2025, with the arms race in the Arctic already high on Canada’s
agenda and surprising threats now emerging from the south, the Canadian Armed Forces released a new plan: a revived and expanded Reserve. The goal? Almost 400,000 civilians trained as reservists—a volunteer force four times the size of our conventional military.
Today about 95,000 people serve in the Canadian Armed Forces—the regular forces, reservists (like those at the Hull Regiment) and the Canadian Rangers. Reservists make up roughly 25,000 members.
Canada shares the concept of a civilian reserve with other Nordic nations. Finland, with its extensive eastern border with Russia, maintains an impressive level of civic
readiness. In Sweden, more than five million booklets were delivered last year with
updated information for civilians in case of war. If Crisis or War Comes is a practical guide explaining how residents should respond to threats and survive under duress.
This February, reserve exercises were held in Luskville. Keeping reserve units well
practised is routine, but Canada—and Quebec—face a new and clear danger this year. In addition to surprisingly hostile official announcements from our southern neighbour (along with Russia and China), social media is saturated with fake news meant to stir mistrust between citizens and government. These alarmist postings are already a form of attack, largely spread by cyber bots, both domestic and foreign.
There is therefore a clear link between the military’s training in the Gatineau Hills and Canadians who may wonder why traditional “emergency capabilities” now include
military preparation. The new threats could certainly create an emergency—no matter the distractions fake news throws into the mix.
The connection is both real and alarming. If defence experts envision a civilian force
of 400,000 people, those citizens must be trained, equipped and organized. Fake news makes this task more difficult—and that is precisely its purpose. Faced with this
climate of fear, will Canada have enough free-thinking citizens willing to train?
Under the Luskville sky, Pontiac is seeing two grave issues join forces: the freedom to think and the determination to act to protect those freedoms.
