Bob’s funeral on the 11th of July 2025 was very well attended by family, friends and military colleagues including 131 who signed the guestbook. In the very emotional service that followed, it was easy to see the kind of impact Bob had on the lives of those around him. Bob’s wife Christine; his stepson Matthew and Bob’s “younger and better looking brother” Kevin, a retired MWO, spoke eloquently about their special times with Bob, between many tears and deep composure breaths. Al Lounsbury, who had been friends with Bob since their N Flight days at RMC, also spoke, on behalf of the large contingent from the Class of 79. He was in tears even before he got to the podium, listening to heartfelt words of Bob’s family members. The eulogy by Christine is immediately below and those of Al, Kevin and Matthew are included at the end of this page.

Christine’s Eulogy

Good Afternoon.

Before I get started, I want to take the opportunity to thank you all for coming, to remember my husband Bob, and to share all of your wonderful stories and memories with me.  He would have been overwhelmed with the turnout here today, as I am. Our families are grateful for your presence and support.

Bob was my everything.  He was a shoulder to cry on, a best friend, a patient listener and sounding board, a soft place to land and comic relief when I needed it most. He had great insight and observed things many didn’t see. 

Bob and I met later in life.  He had just recently retired and I had been recently divorced. I was friends with a former coworker Sue, and Bob was friends with her husband Bruce. Sue bought us each tickets to the Rolling Stones concert and called us, individually, to say we owed her for them. They sat us together and I was immediately drawn to Bob’s sense of humour and wit.  He was the consummate gentleman.  He held my hand and bought me a coke (apparently this meant the evening officially qualified as a date). Then invited us back to his home for a swim. I left with his phone number and spent the following months calling (chasing) him, asking him to football games (SIDENOTE: I had season tickets to the Renegades, which apparently was a big selling point; he called it the bait and switch because the Renegades folded the year after we met). I also invited him to dinners and finally a Xmas shopping excursion. I wasn’t sure he even liked me, and after a while I was OK with that.  He was someone I wanted in my life, regardless of where the relationship went.  He was kind, caring, thoughtful and highly intelligent. I loved being around him.  When he finally made his move I was thrilled.

On our first Valentine’s Day I was away on course at Queens,. He sent me flowers and a teddy bear, and told me I was his for the weekend.  We went to a hotel for the night, out to dinner at a restaurant and a comedy club and that night he gave me a pair of earrings.  When Doug McLean asked him how we had celebrated, there was dead silence, and then Doug said “I’m telling Rejeanne you bought her flowers”.

We had a lot in common, we were each the first born of four children in our families, our parents had all married young. We were raised in working class families, full of love and large number of close relations. We both loved to read, to listen to music and to be solitary to recharge. We were the perfect fit.  I didn’t care when he told  me that he didn’t believe in marriage. I was going to spend my life with him regardless. When he finally asked me, three years after moving into our home, I didn’t give him a chance to change his mind. We were married 5 months later, and he became my mother’s favourite son-in-law.

Family meant everything to Bob. He never had children of his own, but he graciously accepted the role of stepfather, especially to our dear Matthew, who lived with us, and embraced the role of Grandpa. We hosted every Christmas, Easter and Thanksgiving for many years and he loved it. Add to that our Superbowl and Grey Cup parties, May 24 weekends, annual neighbourhood Xmas Wine and Cheese and New Year’s Eve Euchre tournaments. For a solitary guy, he sure kept us busy with social events.

Bob’s adopted children were his dogs, Stanley and Oliver.  I called Stanley the traitor dog. He was 6 when Bob and I met, and at first he didn’t take to Bob, but Stan eventually crossed over, and in the end would not come to me without first checking with Bob. He would sit at Bob’s feet and wrap his paws around Bob’s ankle to sleep. Oliver came next, and we raised him from a puppy. Bob was the biggest softie, so discipline and obedience training were challenging to say the least. I think the dogs gave Bob purpose, and an excuse to get out walking. They were definitely the gateway to meeting many of our wonderful neighbours.

When we first moved in together, I was just starting my MBA and Bob took over every household duty… groceries, laundry AND meals. He showed great interest in my courses, helping me talk out assignments, proof reading and offering insight. He never complained about the long hours I spent in my office after being away at work all day, and he celebrated my achievements.

I know that Bob loved the university experience – he regaled me with story after story of the times spent with his buddies from RMC, and he never missed a reunion. They were a highlight every 5 years. I was grateful for the opportunity to join him there, and to get to know many of his classmates. I was able to put faces to names, and to form wonderful friendships of my own with many of the couples I met.

Bob made me laugh every day, and he tucked me into bed every night. I need lots of sleep, and Bob was a night owl, so how we made that work I’ll never know, but we did. It would take us hours each morning to read the newspaper, because we would pause, read each other articles, and get into deep conversations about the various topics. Similarly, we could spend hours on the deck, not saying a word, reading our books and basking in the calm quiet of our backyard, stopping only to take a quick dip or refresh our drinks. It was a wonderful domestic existence and it will never be the same without him.

He supported my crafts and gardening, and always expressed appreciation of the project of the day. He took the time to look things over, ask questions and comment on the intricacies. He really noticed.

Every Sunday, Bob would call his siblings. He would spend hours on the phone, catching up and making sure everyone was OK. He loved being Santa to all his nieces and nephews. When we first met and a lot of them were little, we had the car packed to the roof with presents. Thank heaven for gift cards in recent years. It made packing for the trip a little easier.

Bob and I had only 20 years together, but we made the most of them. We travelled to South America, Tahiti, Paris, the east and west coasts, the Caribbean, and even Myrtle Beach for two winters. We went to concerts regularly , and attended NFL games and Grey Cups a few times. We spent a lot of time with just each other, and I will miss that terribly. He has left a huge hole in my life, but I am lucky enough to have our families and friends around to support me in my loss. I was blessed to have found him and cursed to have it all end so quickly.  He did not want to believe it was happening, and he clung to life these past few months. We deserved more time, Bob. I know you are here, watching over me. I will honour your memory and carry your spirit with me wherever life leads me now. I love you more than I could ever express; I am lost without you, and I am still, forever your dolphin.

Young Bob

Bob while at RMC

Bob was a wonderful writer, always funny but typically with his trademark dry wit. The following are links on the Class of 79 website to a couple of great anecdotes he wrote about his time at RMC. The first story is included in Al’s remarks at the end of this page:

https://www.tdv79ers.ca/anecdote/a-stitch-in-time

https://www.tdv79ers.ca/classmates/anecdotes/military-college-life/pranks/they-went-down-like-skittles

Bob - Post-RMC

Bob - In His Later/Retirement Years

Eulogies

12195 Allan Lounsbury

Christine, first and foremost on behalf of the RMC Class of 79 – our sincere condolences to you, Bob’s family and your family. 

As you know we have a RMC email list for the Class of 79 and the number of posts in that group are huge offering condolences and stating just how Bob was a very special person to everyone he met, including me.   Bob had made a difference in our lives, and just been that person to provide a little extra support and humour when most needed, especially at RMC.

I had the privilege of being Bob’s friend and in the same squadron as Bob for all four years at RMC.  We spent our first two years in Brock five squadron, and then we were both punted to the Frigate (1 squadron) for our final 2 years.

We nicknamed Bob, “Bad Bob” – which really should have been “Good Time Bob”, since Bob just wanted to have some fun, relax and a good time.  Of course, especially in our rook years at RMC, that was not allowed and in order to execute on that prime directive, well one had to be “bad”.  It’s that Truth, Duty, Valor thing and “don’t get caught”.

Here’s a classic example of that which is one of my most memorable moments with Bob.  It was in our second year and back in 1976, where a second year did not have many privileges and restricted to wearing monkey suits, our 4’s anytime we left campus with permission.  Well, that’s no fun and hard to have a good time with a monkey suit on.  So one night, we decided to escape in our civies to “have some fun, an adventure”.  I had a motorcycle at the time hidden on campus under a third year’s name.  We hopped aboard my motorcycle and then we discussed where we should go since we could not be seen locally in town.  Of all places, we decided to go to a small town called “Bath”, a 30 minute drive away from Kingston to a pub, or should I say a “local dive” called “The Penguin” where alcohol and woman existed which I’m told now is the Welborne Commons.  Bob and I strolled in, sat down, watched the local scenery, talked and just enjoyed some pints together as normal human beings, something denied as a 2nd year at RMC.

But alas, all good times do come to an end, and then we had to return back to our 2nd year prison camp early in the morning, probably around 1 am if memory serves me correctly.  We zoomed back into Kingston, heading down Princess street on my motorcycle, and as engineers we knew the multiple stop lights on Princess street were timed for being green while travelling 30 mph.  So we decided that a multiple of that speed should also work, hence we had to test our engineering theory.  We were totally nailing it, except for the final stop light which was a little late in turning green before we went through it.  We blamed that on a software bug in the Kingston traffic light system.

However, a nearby police car saw us go through the red light and decided to chase us to the RMC arch where we were finally pulled over.  Now, bad Bob, just being bad Bob – immediately hops off my bike, goes to the officer and says, which I can clearly remember to this day “Officer, arrest this man – he’s trying to kill me.”  Needless to say, the officer was good spirited and told us next time to stop for the red light and then to get out of his sight and become the next military officers for this country.  I told Bob to get back on the bike and then we successfully (well almost) sneaked back in since one 4th year “Tim Addison” saw us but he was equally engaged in having a good time and decided to ignore us.

Bob was all about having a good, fun time and the best friend anyone could have.  He was also a great story teller and just loved to write.  I lost track of how many papers I wrote that Bob proof read and fixed for me.   He has added significantly to the Class of 79 website with multiple stories and this one was suggested by a fellow classmate that I’d like to share.

Bad Bob Story:

It was winter of ‘77/’78. I was a 3rd Year in the Frigate and had a Drill class scheduled.

I had gone to my cabin on the third deck of the Frigate.  This is Navy talk.  It means my room on the third floor.  I was supposed to drop off my books and academic stuff and go back down to the parade square for some sort of drill class.  It was around minus 30 degrees F and the wind was howling in from Navy Bay.  I was wearing my Great Coat over my Battle blouse, but was still pretty cold.  I decided that I’d be a lot warmer if I took off my Battle Blouse and wore the top to my flannel pajamas under the greatcoat instead.  Brilliant!

As I went back downstairs, I was intercepted by Al Lounsbury (Goons) who said that my greatcoat didn’t cover my Jammie top very well, but that he could help.  Here’s where I made my second mistake.  Goons grabbed the lapels/flaps on the front of my greatcoat and hauled them together to better hide my Jammies.  The stitches didn’t hold, the flaps on my greatcoat were now only attached at the bottom and were dangling forward.  Oops.  Goons said that he could fix this as well, and you’d think that after knowing him for three years, particularly after the police chase through the Arch incident … , I’d have better judgement, but alas, I did not.  Into the Squadron Orderly Room, removed my greatcoat, and Goons and I hammered staples into the flaps to secure them to the coat.  “No one will notice the staples and they should remain secure if you stand hunched over, shoulders forward during drill.”  This is not quite the “Chest out, shoulders back” stance that the drill staff encourage.

Meanwhile, out on the parade square, the CSM was trying to make his giant wooden compass open far enough to make circles and that “tap/tap/tap” noise he seemed so fond of. The hinge had frozen and he could only draw straight lines in the ankle-deep snow.

By now, my greatcoat repair was complete. When I put it back on, Goons pointed out that several of the staples had backed off a bit, so he pushed them back in.  Through the greatcoat, through my Jammies, through my shirt and into my chest.  This was not at all comfortable.

 I penguin-walked back on to the parade square, arms at my side, shoulders hunched, chest in, and leaking a bit of blood.  As we formed up, the CSM looked us over and bellowed “everyone into the Old Gym; hang up your greatcoats.”  Now normally this would be a good thing, but with my Jammies and blood and missing Battle Blouse, I didn’t imagine the Drill staff would be particularly pleased.  I deked back into the Frigate, up to my cabin, removed my greatcoat and Jammies, put my Battle Blouse back on, and made it back to the Old Gym in time to form up for drill class.

 Class proceeded pretty much as expected: terrible acoustics, Goons zunting, and little pools of slush everywhere.  As I was leaving the CSM stopped me and told me that for next drill class to wear a shirt with fewer blood stains, get my great coat repaired, and that he didn’t like my Spider Man Jammies.  I think he was more of a Batman fan.

All I can say is the entire class of 79’ have many many more fond memories and incredible stories of Bob and what he meant to us individually.

For example, from Mike Diebel (our Elf – yeah we all had nicknames) “My personal very fond memories of Bob include his dry, sarcastic wit; easy going manner; and his ability to always be reading books while I struggled to keep up with the academics.” 

I think many in the class relate to that comment, so thanks Mike.

And with that; Bob – I hope you’re having a great time up there with your friend the Marine (Doug Maclean) playing war games and the likes.  Please try not to mess up the place too much for when it’s our turn to arrive.  In the meantime, we will all miss you and celebrate the awesome times we had with you.  Take care my friend.

Matthew’s Eulogy

Hello everyone, and thank you all so much for coming to celebrate Bob’s life with us. For those of you who don’t know me, I’m Matthew, Bob’s youngest stepson.

It was a few months after Bob first went into the hospital, and he stopped being able to communicate effectivity, that something struck me. I had never asked Bob many questions about his life before my mom. A man I looked up to, and loved so much. I was so mad with myself for not taking more time to know the little things about this great man. So, a big thank you to Kevin, and Al for sharing your stories about Bob. I'm truly grateful. 

The reason I wanted to speak today, was because I wanted you all to know a little bit more about who Bob was as a parent, which he undoubtedly was, to me.

I was 16 years old when my mom first met Bob. I can say that I was not exactly the most well-adjusted young man at that time. My mom had been raising me as a single parent, working full time and had left me with a very long leash. I had taken advantage of these circumstances and leaned into my teen angst. I came and went as I pleased, i broke every rule she laid down, repeatedly. 

When Bob and my mom moved in together, I came as part of the package.  I quickly found out Bob had very different ideas about communication, and how a household should operate together. For instance, all of the sudden, I had someone who constantly wanted to know what I was up to, and NEEDED to know when I left the house, as well as when I would be home. When Bob first laid down these ground rules, I truly thought he was insane. We fought endlessly about it.

But this and the many other sudden changes to my day-to-day life did have a huge pay off that even my very stubborn self could see. Even if Bob’s rules were extreme to me, I couldn’t help but be impressed by his ability to make my mom truly happy.  He brought a sense of calm, stability and unwavering affection into our new home. I believe the greatest gift a parent can give their child is the example of a healthy relationship. Bob never faltered in this regard.

I wish I could say I immediately saw the light and turned into the model stepson. But old habits die hard, and I definitely made Bob’s life harder than it needed to be for a long time.  But he never once raised his voice at me, even though there were many many times when he had just cause to. For a time, I had convinced myself Bob was just putting up with me, and eventually he would crack and lose it on me. But the thing about Bob was, if you found yourself in his orbit, and he decided he cared about you, his patience was endless. No matter how much I tested him, he never broke. Eventually it wasn’t his anger that made me start to want to smarten up, it was the look he gave me when I disappointed him. The look that someone who loves you gives when you have hurt them. 

 Bob gave me a solid foundation and unconditional love in a very tough time in my life. And I owe a lot of the things I’m proud of about myself to his example. In short, he was a great dad.

 Thank you,

Kevin’s Eulogy

My name is Kevin Hills. For those who do not know me, I’m Bob’s younger and much better-looking brother.

 The Hills Military Lineage

Our Grandfather Arthur Ernest Hills enlisted in the  Royal Canadian Engineers and went overseas with the Expeditionary Force in 1916 – 1919 to serve in WW1 as a Sapper. ( included trench construction, bridge building, mine warfare, etc…

Our father Arthur Gerald Hills joined the CF in 1952 and served  as a Traffic Tech/ loadmaster. He retired as a Sgt in 1977 with 25 yrs of service and continued to work as a Public servant at 8 Wing Trenton until he was 60.

As you may know or can recognize that I also served in the CF.

 I joined in 1982 and served as a Radio Technician and then as an Airfield Telecommunications and Information Systems technician. I retired as a Master Warrant Officer in 2023 with 40 yrs of service.

Bob took the high road and applied to attend the Royal Military College where he studied and received his bachelor’s in Chemical Engineering. Graduating in 1979 he started his career. Postings took him to Comox BC, Winnipeg MN. Shearwater NS and finally Ottawa where he retired as a LCol with 30 years of service but unfortunately, he had to retire due to heart complications.

Now If you add up all these years of service you’ll get 99 years of service to Canada. 

So, I find it extremely fitting that Bob be laid to rest in these sacred Military grounds.

 Bob the big brother

 He was the definition of a big brother!

Taught me how to throw a spiral with a football. “ Put your fingers over the laces”, he would say.

We were playing catch with a softball one afternoon. I was probably 7 or 8 and he was 15 or 16. He noticed that I was spitting on the ground a lot. He said, “Are you a professional baseball player”? I said, NO. He said that I had to stop spitting cause only professional ball players were allowed to spit that much.

When I was about 13 I had done something wrong (which wasn’t that unusual) and my parents told me not to leave the house. They were going out and Bob was to look after me. He was home for the summer during his RMC days. I sort of Snuck out of the bathroom window. When I got back a couple hours later he met me at the front door and all he said was,” Either you’re gonna tell Mom and Dad or I am”.

When we lived in Toronto in the 70’s there was the neighbour kid who was three or four years older than me and he liked to pick on me. Bob saw him holding me down and punching me one afternoon. He took care of it. I don’t recall what he did to him, but it never ever happened again.

 I’ll never forget the day Bob came home to our Parents place after he had graduated from RMC. He was a brand spankin new 2Lt.

I remember him standing on the front step of the house, in his uniform when our father came home from work. At the time Dad was a Sgt and still serving in the Military. Bob looked at him and said,” you know Dad, now that I’m an Officer in the Canadian Forces and you being a Non-Commissioned member you have to salute me.

For any of you that knew our Father Art. You know that his response would be Epic…

So, my father shot him a quick salute then without a pause said, “Now go pick up all the dog shit in the backyard”.

Bob spent almost 30 years of his life dedicated to the Canadian Forces. And during that time, he never had a girlfriend. I always found that a little strange. But, the CF was his love during that time in his life. He put his heart and soul into his career and the men and women who he had the privilege to lead.  When he was about to retire, I received a phone call from the Base CWO in Shearwater NS, (as that was where I was posted to at the time)  asking me if I would come to the Headquarters bldg to take part in a Depart with Dignity flag raising ceremony. For those of you that don’t know, when a service member retires from the CF they are given what they call  a “Departure with dignity “. Certificates are awarded from the Prime Minister’s office, The provincial government and local Mayors office. A luncheon is also arranged, and the Canadian Flag is hoisted in front of the headquarters bldg. on the base of the member’s choice. Bob had selected 12 Wing Shearwater and had asked if I could be a part of it.  I stood in front of the flagpole and saluted the flag as it was raised and again at the end of the day when it was lowered. Pictures were taken and Bob was then presented with that flag and pictures at his Depart with dignity luncheon in Ottawa.  I was extremely proud to have been a part of that celebration.

 Once Bob retired it didn’t take him long to find the one real and true love of his life.  Christine! He fell head over heels for this woman and loved her with all of his heart and soul. How could he not! She loved football! And I’ll say it again. She loved football! They had season tickets to the Ottawa Redblacks. She loved to travel and so did he. She loved to go to concerts and so did he. She loved to play Euchre and so did he. She is very family oriented and her children/grandchildren grew to love Bob immensely. And he loved them like they were his own and considered them his own.

Over the past several months, all while Bob was so sick, Christine was a rock! She never faltered. She was at that hospital every day. She kept notes on everything the Doctors were saying and stepped in when what they were saying didn’t make sense. Every day she would text or have conference calls with my sister Deanne, my niece Rachel and me on any and all updates she could provide. She had all of the required safety items brought into the house to make his life more comfortable if and when he would come home. She arranged a cardiac palliative care team to come to the house to provide him with the care he needed. A night nurse to sit up and make sure he didn’t get into any mischief so she could get some well deserved rest.

When I told her how much we appreciated her tireless efforts and I said that she needed to take a break, she said,” Where else would I be, he’s my man!”

I was thinking maybe Disney land might be a better place to be. But she was right and our family will always love and cherish her and will always keep her as our sister!

Every year at Christmas time he would make sure that every single member of his family received a gift. Not just his family with Christine but my family and both my sister’s families right down to his Great Great nephew Jackson.

Bob loved his entire family and he loved to have a good time. He loved to visit with family and friends and if you were in town he would insist that you stop by.

On a lighter note…Every Sunday morning for years, and I mean years, around 10:00 Bob would call like clockwork to check in, see how things were but mostly to just chat.

One Sunday morning on Mother’s day a few years ago when he called I wished him a Happy Mother’s day. We laughed as it had absolutely nothing to do with being a parent. But more of being a Mother___________. I’ll let you all fill in that last word. From then on every Sunday it would be a bit of a challenge to see who would get to say it first and he would always get a kick out of it. Even the last time I saw him in the Hospital and was barely responsive he still managed to whisper in my ear,  Happy Mother’s Day.

So, from me to you big brother, HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY.

Finally, I have these last words of advice for everyone!

When our Mother Pauline passed away back in 96 we held a reception afterwards and Bob played a particular song on the jukebox. Afterwards, I wasn’t too pleased that he played it. I thought he had ruined that song for me.

When our father Arthur passed he did it again and when our sister Wendy passed he did it again. All three times annoying me.

So, today I find it fitting that I try and recite the first verse and chorus. I’m sure you all know it and will most likely be humming it for the rest of the day. Sorry for that folks but that’s what he would want.

A VERY GOOD FRIEND OF MINE, TOLD ME SOMETHING THE OTHER DAY.  AND I’D LIKE TO PASS IT ON TO YOU AS I BELIEVE WHAT HE SAID TO BE TRUE. HE SAID WERE HERE FOR A GOOD TIME, NOT A LONG TIME. SO HAVE A GOOD TIME, THE SUN CAN’T SHINE EVERYDAY.         I love you brother!  Peace everyone!

Some Memories from Bob’s Classmates:

12193 BGen (Retd) Terry Leversedge - Bob was a good friend at the college and in our AERE careers together.  We spent many a weekend “road-running” between Borden and Kingston in the early days of our training at RMC and CFSAOE.  He often bummed a ride with me until he switched to his motorcycle.  I always appreciated his wit and “tell it like it is” approach.  It was great to see him at the reunion last year.

12207 Kevin McCarthy - As well as remembering Bob from College days I had previous memories of him from about ten years prior to then. When I was a kid living on the Base in Downsview (Toronto) he and I were good buddies in Grades 3 and 4 at St Jerome’s School near the base. I recall racing around the PMQs patch with him on our bikes pretending we were the heros of the Saturday afternoon movies we had seen at the Base theatre. As well we created our own super secret organizations inspired by “The Man from U.N.C.L.E.” which was so popular at the time.  That was a pretty idyllic time of life and good friends to share adventures were really important. Bob filled that role for me. With our similar upbringings and interests it was not too surprising that we were classmates at RMC. Our circles didn’t intersect as much at RMC but he was no doubt filling the role of best buddy for others based upon the comments and recollections being posted here. 

We are all better for having known Bob Hills. 

M135 Don McLeod - A great friend and class mate for so many years. I knew his Dad whom I worked with! A real character who always enjoyed a good laugh and had an infectious smile! He will be missed by all who knew Bob! RIP! “At the going down of the sun and in the morning we will remember him!”

12264 Doug Campbell - I spent my final two years in the Stone Frigate with Bob and thoroughly enjoyed his wry sense of humour. A lovely man and fine classmate, he will be missed.

12231 John Roeterink - Saddened to learn of the passing of an RMC Classmate a military colleague and a husband. “ we will remember him”.