In September 1943, the First Canadian Division's bold assault on the Italian town of Potenza turned a potential Allied disaster into a decisive victory. But more than eight decades later, a critical question looms: could today's Canadian Army replicate that feat in a major conflict alongside U.S. forces? At present, the answer is a stark no.
The root cause lies in decades of strategic drift. Since the Cold War's end, Canada's military has been tailored for what experts call "contribution warfare"—operations within multinational coalitions focused on peacekeeping and counterinsurgency, not sustained high-intensity combat. That approach suited the unipolar era, but the security landscape has shifted. Ottawa's current force structure no longer meets its own needs, nor those of its most important ally.
In response, the Canadian government unveiled Inflection Point 2025, a blueprint to transform the army into a warfighting force capable of facing peer or near-peer adversaries. The plan calls for new units, modernized equipment, and a shift in doctrine. Yet as the saying goes, the best-laid schemes often go awry—and this plan faces formidable obstacles.
The first hurdle is recruitment. The plan assumes Canada can close a 3,000-soldier shortfall from last year and add 8,500 more regular personnel by 2040. But past performance offers little confidence. The military has struggled to attract and retain talent, and without a sustained influx of personnel, the new formations risk being hollow shells.
Procurement poses an equally daunting challenge. Even with recent reforms under the Carney government, Canada's acquisition system remains slow and politically driven. Priorities like domestic job creation and reducing reliance on U.S. defense firms often overshadow the urgent need for battlefield-ready equipment. As a result, units may lack the advanced systems required for modern warfare.
Sustainment is another critical weakness. General Wayne Eyre told Parliament in 2023 that at Ukraine War consumption rates, Canada would exhaust certain ammunition types "in days," while replenishment could take years. Replacing casualties at similar rates would strain the system further. Building the logistics to support a division-sized deployment is a monumental task, and current stockpiles are dangerously thin.
Doctrine also lags. Like many NATO armies, Canada has been slow to adopt the tactical innovations—such as drone warfare, electronic warfare, and decentralized command—that have proven decisive in Ukraine. Without updating its approach, the army risks remaining vulnerable on future battlefields.
For Washington, these are not merely Ottawa's problems. American victory in future conflicts may hinge on the ability of a capable Canadian unit to arrive at the right moment, as at Potenza. The U.S. has a vested interest in seeing Canada's plan succeed, but time is running short. As geopolitical tensions rise, the hope is that Canada's army will be ready to reprise its historic role—not just on paper, but in practice.
