A CHRITMAS STORY: THE SOLDIER & SANTA

Soldier Of Honour

'TWAS THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMA S, HE LIVED ALL ALONE, IN A ONE
BEDROOM HOUSE MADE OF PLASTER AND STONE.

I HAD COME DOWN THE CHIMNEY WITH PRESENTS TO GIVE, AND TO SEE JUST
WHO IN THIS HOME DID LIVE.

I LOOKED ALL ABOUT, A STRANGE SIGHT I DID SEE, NO TINSEL, NO
PRESENTS, NOT EVEN A TREE.

NO STOCKING BY MANTLE, JUST BOOTS FILLED WITH SAND, ON THE WALL HUNG
PICTURES OF FAR DISTANT LANDS.

WITH MEDALS AND BADGES, AWARDS OF ALL KINDS, A SOBER THOUGHT CAME
THROUGH MY MIND.

FOR THIS HOUSE WAS DIFFERENT, IT WAS DARK AND DREARY, I FOUND THE
HOME OF A SOLDIER, ONCE I COULD SEE CLEARLY.

THE SOLDIER LAY SLEEPING, SILENT, ALONE, CURLED UP ON THE FLOOR IN
THIS ONE BEDROOM HOME.

THE FACE WAS SO GENTLE, THE ROOM IN SUCH DISORDER, NOT HOW I
PICTURED A CANADIAN SOLDIER.

WAS THIS THE HERO OF WHOM I'D JUST READ?
CURLED UP ON A PONCHO, THE FLOOR FOR A BED?
I REALIZED THE FAMILIES THAT I SAW THIS NIGHT, OWED THEIR LIVES TO
THESE SOLDIERS WHO WERE WILLING TO FIGHT.

SOON ROUND THE WORLD, THE CHILDREN WOULD PLAY, AND GROWNUPS WOULD
CELEBRATE A BRIGHT CHRISTMAS DAY.

THEY ALL ENJOYED FREEDOM EACH MONTH OF THE YEAR, BECAUSE OF THE
SOLDIERS, LIKE THE ONE LYING HERE.

I COULDN'T HELP WONDER HOW MANY LAY ALONE, ON A COLD CHRISTMAS EVE
IN A & nbsp; LAND FAR FROM HOME.

THE VERY THOUGHT BROUGHT A TEAR TO MY EYE, I DROPPED TO MY KNEES AND
STARTED TO CRY.

THE SOLDIER AWAKENED AND I HEARD A ROUGH VOICE, "SANTA DON'T CRY,
THIS LIFE IS MY CHOICE I FIGHT FOR FREEDOM, I DON'T ASK FOR MORE, MY
LIFE IS MY GOD, MY COUNTRY, MY CORPS."

THE SOLDIER ROLLED OVER AND DRIFTED TO SLEEP, I COULDN'T CONTROL IT,
I CONTINUED TO WEEP.

I KEPT WATCH FOR HOURS, SO SILENT AND STILL AND WE BOTH SHIVERED
FROM THE COLD NIGHT'S CHILL.

I DIDN'T WANT TO LEAVE ON THAT COLD, DARK, NIGHT, THIS GUARDIAN OF
HONOR SO WILLING TO FIGHT.

THEN THE SOLDIER ROLLED OVER, WITH A VO ICE SOFT AND PURE,
WHISPERED, "CARRY ON SANTA, IT'S CHRISTMAS DAY, ALL IS SECURE."

AUTHOR UNKNOW

CANADIAN service men and women for our being able to celebrate these festivities. Let's try in this small way to pay a tiny bit of what we owe. Make people stop and think of our heroes, living and dead, who sacrificed themselves for us. Please, do your small part to plant this small seed.

A RETIRED SOLDIER SAYS...

'Canadians have not earned the right to share our grief'

National Post Thursday, April 27, 2006

As a retired member of the Canadian Armed Forces, I'm disturbed by the media frenzy and the artificial public outcry over the government's decision to restrict the media from CFB Trenton for the arrival of Canadian war dead.

I fully support this decision, and I am ashamed of my fellow Canadians. For the past dozen years, when the Liberals were decimating the Canadian military, there was no public outcry. There was no media frenzy. You did not care. Canadians have -- due to their self-centred, insatiable demand for social programs -- wilfully neglected the men and the women of the Canadian Forces and allowed the federal government, under the Liberals, to gut the Canadian military. And now the media and other pundits wish to share in the grief of the military families for their fallen ones?

Where were the public outcry and the media frenzy over the government's obvious agenda to emasculate the Canadian Forces? There was no outcry when the air force was arbitrarily cut due to lack of resources; no outcry that the army, cut to the bone, is now unable to survive on a modern high-tech battlefield; and there has been not been a word over the decimation of the once-proud Canadian navy.

In short, there has been no outcry that the Canadian Forces cannot fulfill its mission to defend Canada.The Canadian media -- and Canadians -- have not earned the right to share our grief. Shame on the Canadian media, and shame on Canadians.

Ian Parker, Carleton Place, Ont.

A PRAYER FOR THE SOLDIERS

Prayer request ..............
According to the weather reports, it is my understanding that it is 122 degrees in Afghanistan right now -- and the low will be 111! Our troops need our prayers for strength, endurance, and safety. If it be God's will, give these men and women the strength they need to prevail. I am sorry, but I am not breaking this one.....Let us pray. payer chain for our> Military..please don't break it...Please send this on ater a short prayer. Pray for our soldiers...

Prayer

"Lord, please hold our troops in your loving hands.

Protect them as they protect us.

Bless them and their families for the selfless acts they

perform for us in our time of need. Amen."

Prayer Request: When you receive this, please stop for a moment and say a prayer for our troops around the world. There is nothing attached. Just send this to all the people you know.

Do not let it stop with you, please. Of all the gifts you could give a Canadian Soldier, Sailor, Airman, deployed in harm's way,

Prayer is the very best one.

THIS WAS PAST TO ME VIA E-MAIL. SEND IT ALONG IF YOU WISH

AFGHAN RESCUE

This pilot sure earned his pay....

No were esle to land to get the wounded out this pilot improvised and overcame.

SUPPORT FOR THE CANADIAN SOLDIER

Your alarm clock goes off , you hit the snooze and sleep for another 10 minutes.
He stays up for days on end.

You take a warm shower to help you wake up.
He goes days or weeks without running water.

You complain of a "headache", and call in sick.
He gets shot at as others are hit, and keeps moving forward.

You put on your anti war/don't support the troops shirt, and go meet up with your friends. He still fights for your right to wear that shirt.

You make sure you're cell phone is in your pocket.
He clutches the cross hanging on his chain next to his dog tags.

You talk trash about your "buddies" that aren't with you.
He knows he may not see some of his buddies again.

You walk down the beach, staring at all the pretty girls/hot guys. He walks the streets, searching for insurgents and terrorists.

You complain about how hot it is.
He wears his heavy gear, not daring to take off his helmet to wipe his brow.

You go out to lunch, and complain because the restaurant got your order wrong.
He doesn't get to eat today.

Your maid makes your bed and washes your clothes.
He wears the same things for weeks, but makes sure his weapons are clean.

You go to the mall and get your hair redone.
He doesn't have time to brush his teeth today.

You're angry because your class ran 5 minutes over.
He's told he will be held over an extra 2 months.

You call your girlfriend/boyfriend and set a date for tonight. He waits for the mail to see if there is a letter from home.

You hug and kiss your girlfriend/boyfriend, like you do everyday.
He holds his letter close and smells his love's perfume.

You roll your eyes as a baby cries.
He gets a letter with pictures of his new child, and wonders if they'll ever meet.

You criticize your government, and say that war never solves anything.
He sees the innocent tortured and killed by their own people and remembers why he is fighting.

You hear the jokes about the war, and make fun of men like him.
He hears the gunfire, bombs and screams of the wounded.

You see only what the media wants you to see.
He sees the broken bodies lying around him.

You are asked to go to the store by your parents. You don't.
He does exactly what he is told.

You stay at home and watch TV.
He takes whatever time he is given to call, write home, sleep, and eat.

You crawl into your soft bed, with down pillows, and get comfortable.
He crawls under a tank for shade and a 5 minute nap, only to be woken by gunfire.

You sit there and judge him, saying the world is probably a worse place because of men like him. If only there were more men like him!

If you support your troops, send this to everyone you know.
If it gets to another veteran who hasn't received it yet, it will bring back memories.
Only two defining forces have ever offered to die for you, Jesus Christ and the Canadian Soldier. One died for your soul, the other for your freedom

THOUGHTS FROM A SOLDIER TO JACK LAYTON

Ole Jack Layton ~ Thoughts From A Soldier

Dear Jack Layton,

You sit there in your quiet home, no fear is in your heart,

You sleep soundly certain that it won't be blown apart.

Your children they can go to school and play out in the park,

They've never seen a bomb explode, heard air raids in the dark.

They've never seen dead bodies piled up on the street,

Your wife, she won't be beaten, treated like a piece of meat.

You are free to form opinions, read any news print you can see,

You enjoy your rights and privileges in this country wide and free.

The reason you can live like that is because I fight your wars,

I fight and push the enemy back, I keep them off our shores.

I am here and you are there pretending you know best.

Well Ole Jack now listen close while I get this off my chest.

You have the right to criticize, you have the right to complain

You don't have the right to drag me down in a stupid political game.

The thing about your rights Ole Jack, the part you can't comprehend

Is you work in the very system, the democracy I defend.

I stand on fences around the world protecting those that need it,

It is not for you to determine Jack whether or not it's worth it.

Ask the people in Afghanistan if they want me to stay,

Women and children depend on me - you say just walk away.

I don't need your changing policy, trying hard to not lose face,

What I need is you behind me, helping protect this place.

You know its hard to do this when I think I'm all alone.

I hear stories of young punks pissing on memorial stones.

I read the papers over here and they tell me what is said.

Canadians are losing faith I can't get it through my head.

You say that it is hopeless, it really brings me down
Don't tell my mother we're losing, don't spread that rumour around.

I'm doing good, were winning here but no-one will believe
Because we are way over here where no one there can see.

Women here can work you see, children starting school.
We built a working government, we've broken Taliban rule.

We are so close to winning this, it's not too far away
History will show that we were in the right to stay.

When that brilliant day arrives, victory you'll claim is ours
You'll forget you said to run away - forget you are a coward.

On that day just thank me for my courage and my trouble,
Find another place that needs help, and send me on the double.

written by Josh Forbes Calgary Alberta

A WOUNDED SOLDIER'S VIEW

It has been 2 month and 2 days since I deployed to Afghanistan, with 8 Platoon, Charles Company, 1 RCR. I was honored, as a reservist augmentee, to be attached to such a great group of probably the best soldiers our country has to offer.

In the three short weeks I was in Afghanistan, I learned more about commitment to my military family than most soldiers learn in a life time. It seemed both unfortunate and amazing that it took battle and blood shed to forge such a strong bond.

It has been 1 month and 12 days since I was wounded and pulled from the battlefield. When I was in the hospital in KAF, I had hoped that I would stay in Afghanistan to recover. Why would I want to stay in such a horrible place that almost claimed my life? I didn’t want to leave my family.

Germany and Toronto (hospitals) were a blur of Morphine, Demerol, Fentanyl, IV lines, wound packing’s, shrapnel removal surgeries, catheters, bad food, and good care. I think back on it and it seems dizzying. But when I close my eyes, only 2 images flash and they take me back to where I’m supposed to be.

I see Panjwayi; the fields of pot. Rockets and bullets. The smell of burning and the heat. Then all I see are the bodies of soldiers I helped carry to the CCP. Two covered by body bags (WO. Richard Nolan, Sgt. Shane Stachnik) and two on stretchers; my platoon warrant (WO Frank Mellish), and a soldier I new only casually from living in the shacks in Petawawa (Pte.Will Cushley)

While at the CCP I find out that a very close friend (from my reserve home unit) had been wounded by shrapnel from Taliban RPGs. His sections LAV had been left on the battlefield. For a long while, I didn’t know how badly he was wounded. (He’s still over there, thus no names) I’ll never forget the feeling; the sense and fear of loss.

I will never forget those who were lost that day.

I try to think of the good times I was privileged enough to have with my Platoon. WO. Mellish made me the unofficial piper of 8 Platoon, (shortly there after; Coy piper) and I played reveille as per his request (and everyone else’s distain) anytime I was able.

In dreams I still hear him shouting “Piper!!! Black Bear!!”… The last tune I played on my pipes… at panjwayi. (I still don’t have them back)

When I close my eyes, I also see the morning after Panjwayi. Sparks, smoke, fire… then the burp of the main gun of the A-10. I remember the feeling of panic as I crawled for my Weapon and PPE, thinking we were under attack. I can still feel the burning on my legs and back, the shock of thinking my legs were gone.

I can see the faces of the injured… the twice wounded soldiers of Charles. I see the face of the soldier who saved my life by applying tourniquets to my legs and stopping the bleeding from my back and arm… (He will remain nameless for now)

From then, everything’s a blur until I’m back in KAF. I remember asking if everyone was ‘ok’... Reaching from my gurney to other wounded soldiers walking by, trying to peace together what had happened… more confusion. I asked again and again…Pte. Mark Graham. An inspirational man whom I only really started to get to know shortly before deploying, a brother in our family of warriors, was dead. My heart sank even more.

Our CSM (who was also wounded) came over to me and asked if I was going to be able to play the pipes for the ramp ceremony the following day. I held up my right hand, which was numb, and looked at my fingers. The tips of 2 of them looked like they had been chewed up in a blender. I felt tears run down my face. Not because I thought I’d never play again, but because I couldn’t play for my departed brothers the next day… I would have given both of my hands and more for their lives.

I had hoped to attend the ramp ceremony the next day, even if I couldn’t play, but I couldn’t move my legs and they couldn’t put me in a wheel chair because of the shrapnel in my back. I was sedated that day, and came to on the plane to Germany.

I couldn’t attend any of the funerals of my fallen family, and I feel no closure.

It has been a month and 12 days since I lost my brothers in Panjwayi and it might as well have been yesterday.

When I close my eyes at night I not only see the ones who have paid the ultimate price, but also the ones who are still there… and I feel as though I am betraying them.

My life seems to be dragging me on. My fiancé and I are planning our wedding and future. My family and I get together often. I’ve been able to socialize with my friends… and yet each thing I do here makes me feel guilty, because I shouldn’t be here to enjoy this.

I wake up every day and plan and plot. I think of only one thing; how can I get back to my family… How can I get back to Afghanistan? My wounds are almost healed. Only 3 holes left and they’re almost closed. I can walk pretty well now, but I need to run.

My family and friends don’t understand. They don’t want me to go back. My fiancé has threatened to end our relationship if I chose to return… and yet this doesn’t dissuade me. I have to get back to my boys. I have to get back and do my part no matter the cost to me. I love my family here in Canada, but no one’s shooting at them.

Every time I see more soldiers killed over there a piece of me dies, and I feel the urge to return grow stronger. And each day I enjoy in my freedom here, I feel as though I have betrayed their memory. I need to finish my job over there. I need to go back.

I can only think of the families of those who have died, and I can only say this, and hope it provides some solace: A warrior’s sword is made from the finest steel, forged by hammer and anvil to create and edge, baptized in hot coals and flame for strength, then quenched in cold water to harden it.

Our brotherhood of Warriors, the finest of men, has been forged by Battle; Baptized by fire and Quenched by tears…

We became and will always be a fraternity of blood with a bond stronger than death.

Pro Patria

I hate to rant, but I need to vent. It’s been a hard road, and I know there are a few others here who have seen it and may or may not feel the same (HoM).

This is a post taken from http://www.army.ca/ of Injured Canadian Solider from the Royal Hamilton Light Infantry who served with the 1RCR

ONE AIRFORCE OPINION: Responce to "A Wounded Slodier's View"

People ask me Why would you want to leave the Air Force and Volunteer to go to Afghanistan. This Canadian Warrior says it well,

"Every time I see more soldiers killed over there a piece of me dies, and I feel the urge to return grow stronger. And each day I enjoy in my freedom here, I feel as though I have betrayed their memory. I need to finish my job over there. I need to go back."

Every time I see more killed or injured over there a piece of me hurts, Why should they go ....and not me......Why should they suffer, and not me .....because I'm in the Air Force and that's not my job?? I am a Soldier First......In this time that the CF is crying for Troops and requires more numbers for Relief. Whether Canadian's need to be there or not, those are not my decisions, it is not my place to comment. There are Canadian Soldiers there, and they need me, and others like me. They need the chance to finish their tours and come home and be with their families, they need the chance to come home and sit and do nothing, right now they don't have that chance as once this tour ends they know that in 6 - 9 months training begins again, and again over they go. But if Guys like me volunteer, then somebody, maybe just one person or one Section, one Platoon....Won't have to.

To all those who are serving now and don't agree with me....Why did you join? For a pay check? If our Veterans of WWI WW2 and Korea signed up just for a pay check we wouldn't have the freedom we have today. Now I understand that this is a different type of war but then we are still the same team, the Canadian Forces. Whether this war will stop Terrorism I can't say? Will it bring a new way of life for the Afghan People Hopefully....But What is Freedom? What does Freedom mean to you? Canada is a Free Country Right? Are our Soldiers Free right now to do what they want? Can they sit at home as I am right now without fear of being shot at? I am Canadian Soldier what allows me that freedom and not them? That's where freedom starts with me. I am Volunteering my freedom so that another Canadian Soldier that is having his freedom jepordized right now can have his back in Canada. I will pick up the Fight For Freedom of Terrorism, I will assist in the efforts of Freedom for the Afghan people. But When I get deployed to Afghanistan I will have won the battle on Freedom for at least 1 of my brothers in arms. He will have his family and his freedom returned in Canada.

Ubique

Once a Gunner Always a Gunner!

This is a post taken from http://www.army.ca/ of Injured Canadian Solider from the Royal Hamilton Light Infantry who served with the 1RCR

Gunner, I salute you.

SUICIDE (COWARD BOMBER) KILLS 2 MORE IN AFGHANISTAN

Two Canadian soldiers were killed in southern Afghanistan on Monday when a suicide car bomber attacked a convoy of military vehicles on the outskirts of Kandahar city, NATO officials said.

The Department of National Defence has not officially released the soldiers' names, but one of the men has been identified in reports as Sgt. Major Bob Girouard, 46, originally from Bathurst, N.B. The other soldier has not been named, but both were based in Petawawa, Ont.
Girouard, married with three children, had joined the militia in Bathurst when he was 17 and then moved on to the army.

He spent 29 years in the infantry and was stationed in Germany, Kosovo, Bosnia, Afghanistan and also served with NATO in various European countries.

He was based in Petawawa and had just been home for four weeks where he and his family had the opportunity to celebrate Christmas when he was home.

He returned to Afghanistan on Nov. 22 for what was to be his last posting overseas. He was scheduled to leave Afghanistan on Feb. 28.

Last Updated: Monday, November 27, 2006 11:47 AM ET
CBC News

LEST WE FORGET - In Flanders Fields

IN FLANDERS FIELDS the poppies blow
Between the crosses row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.


Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae, MD (1872-1918)