HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Lucknow Sentinel, 2016-01-27, Page 44 Lucknow Sentinel • Wednesday, January 27, 2016
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Canada must not step back from the war between civilization
it ake a breath," said
the guy on Twitter,
in answer to some-
thing I wrote about the logical
vacuum at the heart of the Lib-
eral government's Iraq pol-
icy. Apparently Canada's step-
ping delicately back from the
war between civilization and an
aggressively expansionist pro-
gram of genocide, slavery and
mass rape should not cause
undue alarm. It's all happening
so very far away, after all.
But I took the guy's advice
— long enough to remember
the time, in the aftermath of the
murder of Canadian diplomat
Glyn Berry in Kandahar City,
that I saw the effect of a mass -
casualty suicide bombing up
close.
It was a Tuesday in early Febru-
ary, 2006. The attack — which had
killed Berry, cost Master Cpl. Paul
Franklin his legs and seriously
injured Pte. William Salikin and
Cpl. Jeffrey Bailey — had occurred
three weeks earlier. I had been in
Kandahar two weeks, as a corre-
spondent for the other national
newspaper, and was very much a
newbie. I had intended to spend
that afternoon sorting my files and
taking a break.
The call from my fixer, Jawed
"Jojo" Yazamy — who would be
gunned down in downtown Kan-
dahar City in broad daylight, three
years later, aged 23 — came late
afternoon, with a couple hours of
Column
Michael Den Tandt
daylight left. A suicide bomber on
a motorbike had crashed into the
front gate of the police station and
blown himself up. There were
many dead and injured. Despite
the late hour — there was no guar-
antee we'd be let back inside Kan-
dahar Airfield if we returned after
dark— we decided to go. Off we
went down Highway One, me and
two journalists from CTV, with
Jojo at the wheel of his Toyota
Land Cruiser, driving expertly and
very fast, as he always did.
SHAPE
The bomber had attacked a
crowd of job applicants — teen-
aged boys mostly, who were
seeking work as police officers. If
successful they'd have earned
about $13 a month, to start. Thir-
teen were killed in the initial
explosion, which was so powerful
it knocked the police station's
iron gates off their hinges. The
injured had been taken to Kanda-
har's Mirwais Hospital.
As we pulled up to the hospital
a group of Afghan civilians were
carting a big man's body down the
pale concrete steps, which were
liberally stained with blood, as
though it were an extra -large sack
of cement. Rigor had set in and
the body, still clothed, was cov-
ered in fine white dust. I remem-
ber thinking the dead man looked
stiff, like Herman Munster, and
also wondering if his death might
be unrelated to the bombing
because he seemed so clean.
We rushed through the front
doors into the main lobby, where
a tired -looking middle-aged man
in a white coat waved us towards
a stairwell offhandedly, as though
such occurrences were routine,
and it were no big deal for West-
ern journalists to barge into his
desperately under -equipped hos-
pital as it coped with a mass -cas-
ualty bombing. Up we went to the
bum ward.
There they lay, three survivors,
every inch of their bodies except
the whites of their eyes charred
black with third-degree bums.
They rested on filthy cots, too ago-
nized to make a sound, their arms
outstretched as though frozen in
place by the burning. I could see
they were alive, because they
blinked. The smell of their burned
flesh filled the room and the hall-
way outside. Their relatives milled
nearby, some weeping, others
smoking. We got the details we
needed and quickly left
I could not stop thinking, as we
raced back towards KAF, that
someone had done this to these
boys deliberately — had
conceived, planned and executed
it with such ferocity and zealotry
that they were happy to die them-
selves in the act. The story I wrote
that night was trimmed for length
and buried in the next day's back
pages. No Western troops had
died, making this attack of second-
ary news value. Just like, one can't
help but remark, the slaughter of
fellow Muslims by the Islamic State
in Iraq and the Levant.
Of course, ISIL is not the Tali-
ban of a decade ago. As I've
argued previously, it's worse.
Unlike the Taliban, who were
content to massacre their own,
ISIL is an exporter. "Caliph" Abu
Bakr al-Baghdadi's claim to legiti-
macy, within the addled confines
of radical Islamist dogma, rests
on his holding territory. He will
continue exporting death and
maiming, it stands to reason,
until ISIL is destroyed and its ter-
ritory taken away.
The current best effort to
achieve this, led by dovish U.S.
president Barack Obama, is by
Western air power in support of
local ground troops. Prime Minis-
ter Justin Trudeau can struggle, as
he did again Wednesday in Davos,
to explain why the as -yet -unde-
fined expanded training mission
is more within the scope of Cana-
dian capability than flying bomb-
ing runs that protect Canadian
allies. He can struggle, but he can't
succeed — because the policy
makes no sense. Breath taken.
Reader describes ordeal of being stranded, saved in snowstorm
Dear Editor,
On Wednesday, Jan. 13, I was
scheduled to race at Western
Fair Raceway in London.
I picked up the two horses in St
Helens and arrangements were
made to pick an Amish family
(friends) and take them to Uni-
versity hospital to visit a member
of their family who is very ill.
We made the trip and I
dropped them off at the hospi-
tal and continued to the race-
track and with the help of Eddie
Durbridge, raced the horses
and picked up two modest
cheques. With Eddies' help I
was able to load the horses and
get back to University hospital
to pick up my Amish friends
and head for home.
The weather was just fair,
snowing fairly heavy but visibil-
ity was not too bad. We made it
to Clinton, then to Auburn. This
is where our trouble began.
North of Auburn, where by
now, about 12 inches of snow
had fallen and because of not
being able to tell where the road
was we went into the ditch
I had my cell phone and
phoned home to get CAA
phone number. The person at
CAA was very courteous and I
was told help was on the way. A
later call from CAA told us assis-
tance was within 20 minutes.
This was now 1 a.m. I received a
third call from CAA telling me
that all vehicles were off the
road and no help was coming.
One of the Amish ladies
remarked that "maybe this was
a test of our patience".
Resigned to probably waiting
till early morning for the snow-
plough and starting the truck
occasionally for warmth, we
began waiting.
At 2 a.m. I phoned CAA and
got a phone number for an
acquaintance in St. Helens. I
phoned him and told him of our
dilemma and he immediately
offered to come to pick us up.
Very soon he arrived in his four-
wheel drive truck. and took the
ladies home. I decided to stay
with the truck and horses to wait
for the snowplough. My Amish
friend, Henry, stayed with me.
We made ourselves as comfort-
able as possible and began our
wait for the snowplough. The
horses were warm and blanketed
in the trailer. I could start the
truck when we started to get cold.
After not too long, we saw
lights coming down the road
towards us.
My acquaintance, Ron, had
delivered the ladies to their
home then went to his home
and brought his tractor and
blower back to rescue me, Henry
and the horses. He blew a path
around the truck and trailer. I
hooked the chain on and Ron
proceeded to pull us out.
We followed him 10 or 12
miles then took the horses to
the barn and unloaded them. I
then took Henry home and I
went home to Wingham. By this
time it was 5:00 a.m.
Many people, no doubt, have
had similar experiences but my
reason for writing this is to rec-
ognize Ron Snowden who cer-
tainly did more to help some-
one in trouble than one could
reasonably expect
Thanks Ron.
Dennis Jewitt, Henry, Ella,
Katie & Rebecca Stutzman