Release A leaping wind from England,
The skies without a stain,
Clean cut against the morning
Slim poplars after rain,
The foolish noise of sparrows
And starlings in a wood -
After the grime of battle
We know that these are good.
Death whining down from heaven,
Death roaring from the ground,
Death stinking in the nostril,
Death shrill in every sound,
Doubting we charged and conquered -
Hopeless we struck and stood;
Now when the fight is ended
We know that it was good.
We that have seen the strongest
Cry like a beaten child,
The sanest eyes unholy,
The cleanest hands defiled,
We that have known the heart-blood
Less than the lees of wine,
We that have seen men broken,
We know that man is divine.
~W. N. Hodgson
I often find myself drawn to war. Wanting so badly to be over there, doing my part, serving my country. How is it fair that these men and women risk their lives, often losing them, in the name of peace while we live out our lives oblivious to what they're going through.
Every civilian can say they understand what it's like over there. "I've watched Saving Private Ryan so I fully understand what soldiers went through at Normandy." "I have dozens of books on war so I know what it's like." The truth is there's no way we can understand what it's like in battle, to watch your friends die around you, to know that you could be next.
There's is a special fraternity, few are privileged to join.
It takes great courage to choose to go into combat. To choose a career knowing full well they could be killed before they reach the age of 30. Leaving behind wives, children, family and friends. Courage that has to be admired.
But casualties of war go beyond those who lose their lives. We often forget those who are suffering from post traumatic stress. Shell shock as it was called in the first world war. It can't be easy for those who come home alive, but not well. I, myself, suffer from severe depression and have come close on several occasions to losing my mind, but I could never imagine what it's like for these men and women to come home with the thought of those friends they've left behind. They're friends that never made it home.
On April 23, 2009, Major Michelle Mendes was found dead in her quarters at Kandahar Airfield. The cause of her death is still under investigation by the military but it was not caused during battle. She was alone in her quarters. And while our thoughts instinctively go to suicide we have to remember that there is yet no proof. Accidents do happen and is possible in this instance.
There are several other Canadian soldiers who have lost their lives in non-combat situations since the war in Afghanistan started. I'm not going to name names because I'm not here to pass judgement or sully any one's name. They are listed on my last blog (Lest We forget) and as far as I'm concerned a casualty is a casualty whether from an insurgent attack or the stress of war and they deserve our respect just as much as any other soldier.
My prayers go out to all our soldiers, home and away, their family and loved ones; I pray for the strength for them to carry on. And if the stress of it all gets to much and they feel there's no other way I pray the Lord take their pain and give them peace.
'- But a Short Time to Live'
Our little hour - how swift it flies
When poppies flare and lilies smile;How soon the fleeting minute dies,
Leaving us but a little while
To dream our dreams, to sing our song,
To pick the fruit, to pluck the flower,
The Gods - They do not give us long, -
One little hour.
Our little hour - how short it is
When love with dew-eyed lovelinessRaises her lips for ours to kiss
And dies within our our first caress.
Youth flickers out like wind-blown flame,
Sweets of to-day to-morrow sour,
For Time and Death, relentless, claim
Our little hour.
Our little hour - how short a time
To wage our wars, to fan our hates,To take our fill of armoured crime,
To troop our banner, storm the gates.
Blood on the sword, our eyes blood-red,
Blind in our puny reign of power,
Do we forget how soon is sped
Our little hour.
Our little hour - how soon it dies;
How short a time to tell our beads,To chant our feeble Litanies,
To think sweet thoughts, to do good deeds.
The alter lights grow pale and dim,
The bells hang silent in the tower -
So passes with the dying hymn
Our little hour.
~ Leslie Coulson
*Photo credit:
KA2005-R106-0184d01
November 2005
Kabul, Afghanistan
As the sun sets Corporal (Cpl) Michael Meagher pipes down the Canadian Flag that is flying over a Forward Operating Base somewhere in Afghanistan. Cpl Meagher is a rifleman belonging to Golf Company from the 2nd Battalion, The Royal Canadian Regiment (2 RCR), a mechanized infantry battalion from Gagetown, NB. His hometown is Kitchener-Waterloo, ON.
The relocation of our Canadian Forces assets in Afghanistan will be completed by early December, at which point approximately 450 Canadian soldiers will be based at Kandahar Airfield in addition to about 150 soldiers at Camp Nathan Smith. The aim of this reorganization is to increase the effectiveness and impact of CF assets in the region. The task force in Kandahar will grow to about 2,000 strong by February 2006.
Photo by: Master Corporal Ken FennerTask Force Afghanistan Roto 0Photographer
In loving memory of my grandmother
