What a great country we have become. And I celebrate from the last province to join confederation in 1949 – Newfoundland….or as islanders would say, “1949 is when Canada joined us.”
I have served in as a civilian and military member in every province and territory in this confederation. I have melted in the heat of the desserts of the Okanagan, and froze my fingers in the -67 degree temperatures on the North Warning System. I have seen skirmishes such as Oka and been part of the military as it served and helped during ice storms, floods and fires. This is a beautiful country full of natural and human diversity.
Additionally, and like most other military and aviation professionals, I have travelled the world and been blessed with visiting 5 of the 7 continents. And I truly believe, that despite our minute problems, we are the best country in the world.
Enjoy our country, enjoy your celebration – and protect her institutions, promote her resources and nurture and protect our beliefs.
As I review and edit the book, I stumble through numerous contemplations. I thought I would share one….
…A few days had passed, and I tried to function. I was a stick in the family spokes of progress. They were functioning without me.
Yesterday, the important decisions were about life and death— identifying Taliban, evacuating dead and wounded, watching patrols, and responding to lethal ambushes. Now the important decisions of home life were to ensure the garbage was out and the kids weren’t late for school. Ironically, equally important, one was for the prevention of death, the latter for the sustainment of orderly life.
As Christmas approaches I am reminded of 6 years ago. I was very fortunate to travel home during the holidays. Not everyone was so blessed. Some had to stay and work and there are others, others that will never come home again. My thoughts as I write are of you, your families, and your sacrifice. I am truly sorry for your loss.
The Table at Christmas! 2009.
Home for Christmas…
Many of the members of Roto 8, Task Force Freedom had been home to Canada for their first of two 14-day breaks from theatre; myself included. For those of us exposed to ‘outside the wire’ operations everyday; trying to calm down for two weeks was mentally challenging. Although friends would see the relaxed attitude on the faces of the warrior, family members would recognize that our minds and souls were not relaxed – that they were still in KAF.
For me, my first break was surreal. I arrived in Dubai at Camp Mirage on Christmas Eve Day. In MIRAGE, there was green grass, clean buildings and civilized happy Canadian soldiers supporting the daily airlift into Afghanistan. It was nothing like KAF. There was an outdoor entertainment stage that played evening movies. Tonight it was celebrating Christmas eve. A pastor gave a sermon and soldiers sang carols. I could tell I was already affected when listening to a midnight Christmas eve mass. I tried to appreciate the gratefulness but being angry at the ‘excess’ we took for granted when soldiers and innocents were being murdered preoccupied my judgemental psyche. Within days of this meal, numerous Canadian soldiers died as well as three girls at a girls school near KAF – slaughtered just for going to school – yet I was enjoying a turnkey dinner in a tropical shangri-la. It was delightful, yet I couldn’t release my thoughts from colleagues who at that moment were tracking IED planters or providing over-watch. I know it was wrong to be judgemental, but I couldn’t help this subtle anger; I carried it. I couldn’t get past my thoughts of the next mission in January; yet I was suppose to be relaxing. On return, I was to participate in some large-scale missions that would use all NATO helicopters in southern Afghanistan; but no information was passed at this point. Only that it would be really messy.
The next morning, Christmas morning, I spent a day at the beaches in Dubai and touring the malls and world’s largest skyscraper – mechanically trying to enjoy a bit of tourism. I walked to the beach and observed young men playing soccer, a dad and daughter playing frisbee and couples shopping. Initially not noticing the difference. Then it occurred to me. There were no teenaged women anywhere. No young females without escorts, and the burka wearing women walked several steps behind their husbands. The man playing frisbee was with an 8 year old daughter; pre-pubescent. No young adolescent girls were out without older women or escorted. I had to return to Camp Mirage in the afternoon to catch my evening flight to Canada. A man dressed as Santa Claus was entertaining the Christian families at the resorts. It was ironic how a primarily Muslim country would offer the respect to indulge the western traditions; yet in Afghanistan, Taliban would execute the same behaviours and claim it justified under sharia law.
I arrived in Canada on the 26th. I met my family in Victoria, on the west coast of Canada. For the first time in my life, I truly embraced the early morning walk in the cold drizzly west coast weather. No dust. No poo-pond. I remember one drizzly morning I strolled in the cold rain to a local coffee shop just prior to New Years and pulled up a street-side seat with a newspaper. I read the first page: ‘4 Canadian soldiers and one reporter killed.’ I started to shake as I read the article: 21 year old Zachery McCormack from my home town was dead. He was just a kid. It hit me hard – my eyes swelled up and I turned to the window in the coffee shop to hide my tears; sipping coffee to cover up and gain composure. I couldn’t stop thinking about his family. After shakily gulping back some air and inhaling some moisture from my eyes, I walked back to the hotel to be with mine. He was so young, not much older than my son, and from my neighbourhood. I visited relatives for a few more days and then proceeded back to Sherwood Park to re-integrate into regular family lifestyle for the second half of my time off.
I was at the arena and I watched my daughter win her first ever ringette tournament. The girls played ‘pump-up’ music in the locker-room before the game to get motivated. All the parents could hear the music from the stands as the 9-year-old girls proudly tried to out party the other team as they entered the ice. My boys sat with me on the cold bench also enjoying the pre-game show — a family event. Although, I was smiling and happy outside, I was stoic inside. My mind had to go back to KAF soon, outside the wire, and wouldn’t release my soul to fully connect in the moment.
‘I got a feelin’
That tonight’s gonna be a good night.’
There was the song. The Black-eyed Peas began to dominate the rink as the doors from the change room opened allowing a stream of young warrior princesses out to rally. Some stumbling on their skates, others tripping onto the ice as they forgot to take their blade guards off. Parents chuckled and big smiles could be seen clearly through the face guards of the young girls’ helmets.
‘Tonight’s gonna be a good night.’
“Sure is nice that you could get some time off at Christmas.” One of the parents stated.
“Yes, I’m glad to be home.” I answered.
“Your daughter has really improved this year, you’ll be surprised when she starts skating!” He added.
I hadn’t seen her skate since the summer. She was pushing with one leg, the other was stiff. Only one blade was used for braking.
“There she is,” my wife pointed.
“Wow! She’s skating normally now…and she stopped sideways.” I was amazed. “Oops, she just fell!” I laughed. She smiled back at me proud to show off her new accomplishment.
“She can only stop one direction so far but she’s getting better.” The other parent said.
“Did you notice her helmet?” My wife asked.
“Hey, she’s got a yellow ribbon sticker on it from the military base.” I noted
“They all do.” She added.
I looked around and noticed all the girls had yellow ribbons. I straightened up and took a proud breath.
“Why do they have those? Does the league have the girls wearing them for the soldiers?” I asked.
“No.” She looked in my eyes seriously. “It’s for you…the team put them on for you.”
My body tripped over the next breath I took, shaking a tear from my eye. I froze my face and could feel myself losing emotional control. I quickly got up. I needed an excuse. (Even now as I reread this one line, it shakes me up – it is so vivid.)
“I’m gonna grab a coffee, anyone want one?” I was overwhelmed by the support from the team and parents. However, my mind couldn’t leave KAF. I couldn’t allow the emotions to cut through my focus. It may have been psychologically naive, trivial, but it was the ‘war-face’ that had to maintain despite wanting to be home. I was so grateful at the freedoms my family had, and how the young girls could play, yet, I couldn’t help thinking about a few days prior to coming home for this break, a bomber blew up a school two miles from KAF. It was a girls’ school. Three girls died. Girls my daughter’s age. Why? The souls of numerous families were fractured. Would there yellow ribbons on the compounds for those families? I had to stay this way.
My break vanished quickly. I wanted to be home, but I needed to get back to KAF and get it done. My soul was locked up until this year in Afghanistan was complete. I wasn’t sure if I was guarding my soul or just accepting mortality in order to quit worrying about it. How could one tell the difference?
In my last post, I was leaning to describe the irony between an extremely beautiful land and how such beauty and ruggedness can be poisoned by humanity.
As I flew through Afghanistan, I recollected thoughts of the Canadian Rockies any American Rocky Mountains that I have also flown through. As I experienced North America from the air over the years, I learned a respect for the history, prosperity and development: ski resorts, mining projects, vast farms and pipelines all cooperating in the development of prosperity, health, and society. I recall thinking the same things about Afghanistan, a land having so much potential. It has vast mineral wealth and potential to be a continental trading crossroads due to its location; this evident from the historic trade routes from Asia to Europe. It has the capability of running rail lines but doesn’t due to the lack of security – a shame. I saw great mountain ranges with beautiful villages below that would be so capable of building ski resorts and supporting eco-tourism. I saw vast plains with the flowers of lush fruits and vegetables. The grapes alone could rival the vineyards of the Sonoma Valley in California to the Okanagan Valley of British Columbia. And with all this potential, I can’t figure out why fear, hatred, sexism, and medieval law is allowed to prevail keeping these people and this potential suppressed. How do we, as an advanced Western civilization, convince these people that there is a much healthier, prosperous and socially beneficial ways to live? While maintaining religion and modifying fear and hatred, great benefits could come through collective efforts. But it remains a medieval wasteland – it is sad. The great Greek, Mongolian, Persian, Timur, British and Arabian empires have already proven prosperity in the Afghanistan area; it is possible. So why are they so stuck?
If it is a religious issue, then this is my 2 cents:
Whether you believe that Abraham and Isaac founded Judaism then Christianity in Israel or … Abraham and Ismail founded the Quran and Islam in Saudi Arabia, it doesn’t matter.
What is an agreed truth is that we all have Abraham as a religious forefather. We are all cousins.
Just because we can’t agree on what great uncle accomplished what doesn’t mean we have to be extremist and radical. During peace and common sense prevailing, both trees of this family have created great empires of prosperity, peace, artistic, technological and social advancement. It’s time to move forward once again collectively.
Just a commentary on the current affairs of our world.
Now it is almost 2016 and society is faced with wide-spread propaganda promoting fear and violence in the name of attaining of peace and security. As I write this ISIS is growing, attacks against England, Los Angeles and Paris have occurred. Russia, France, Britain and America are in tense relations trying to establish suitable protocols in the diplomatic spider web over Turkey, Iran, Egypt, Israel and Crimea. China is establishing footholds in Africa and recently commissioned their first ever Aircraft carrier.
Yet despite this, Canada is still opening doors to the needy while some political leaders in the USA are promoting policies towards Muslims and Mexicans that are not much different from what we experienced during apartheid.
I often find my mind polarized with back room discussions. So I researched the ‘left, right , and middle’ wings of various thoughts. I don’t know what the answer is but I found some quotes that seemed worthy of remembering:
Quotes…
“I hate war as only a soldier who has lived it can, only as one who has seen its brutality, its futility, its stupidity.” Dwight Eisenhower.
“The enemy is fear. We think it is hate; but it is really fear.” Gandhi
The Prophet Muhammad said: “Religion is very easy, and whoever overburdens himself in his religion will not be able to continue in that way. So you should not be extremists, but try to be near to perfection and receive the good tidings that you will be rewarded.” Bukhari:V1N38
“But I say to you who hear, Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who abuse you.” Luke 6:27
It is a man’s own mind, not his enemy or foe, that lures him to evil ways. Buddha
And from the Art of War, Sun Tsu: “Victorious warriors win first and then go to war, while defeated warriors go to war first and then seek to win.”
If you want total security, go to prison. There you are fed, clothed, given medical care and so on. The only thing lacking…is freedom. Dwight D. Eisenhower
Anyway, there’s my two cents for the day. I’m not smart enough to know the right course of action, but I’m experienced enough to now the effects of some.
At the end of my manuscript I have a reflection about wondering what it would be like to once again live in an environment which is childlike, naive, and having total confidence in your freedom and security and trusting that you could take it for granted. Wouldn’t it be wonderful?
The concept of the Mayan compass or flag and specific colours inspired me from the words of a Guatemalan mountain guide near the ruins of Copan. He said that the colours represented all the peoples of the world: whites in the north, reds in the south, yellow in the west, blacks in the east. And apparently the Mayan’s believed that world peace would never exist until all these colours became one.
Stephen Robertson Consulting 