Stern Reports

You should check out this report on the state of the environment. Then you can read this one about how Canada is doing. The average Candian uses enough energy, consumes enough food, produces enough trash, etc, that we need 7.6 hectares to support each person. If you would like to put that in terms of an area we can better understand, try 818,056 square feet. That is the size of my house, times 800.

So yeah, World Wildlife Fund it is.

Charity Case

I work for the Government of Canada. And when one works for this government, one is made familiar with something called the Government of Canada Workplace Charitable Campaign. It is just a campaign each year in the fall where employees are encouraged to donate to a charity of their choice by payroll deduction throughout the year. We had a short presentation on this the other day, and it got me thinking - I should definitely be giving more. I didn't even come through on that promise to give my Ralphbucks to charity. So now I will be using my salary (which comes your tax dollars, of course) and redistributing to the charity that I see fit.

But...which charity to give to? There are thousands of options. There are a few basic choices on the pledge sheet - I could give to The United Way, who could redistribute it as they like. I could be more specifc, giving to The United Way specifically to fight poverty, for child and youth programs, or for victims of abuse. I could give to Healthpartners, a group including the major health associations such as The Canadian Cancer Society and The Heart & Stroke Foundation. Or I could give to any registered charity in the country.

Right now I have a sponsored child in Uganda. Maybe I should give something to stay in Canada now? Or even my local community? But I think there are places elsewhere that probably need it more. How about giving to people who do something about protecting the environment? Renewable energy? World Wildlife Fund? I don't know. There are too many choices.

It won't be much money. They won't be hiring any new scientists or building any new shelters with my donations. I just want them to mean something, though. So what do you think? Who deserves our hard-earned money?

Different Families

This letter was posted on army.ca by a Candian soldier recently wounded in Afghanistan:

Dealing with being home from Kandahar

(Oct 16, 2006)

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 lifetime. It seemed both unfortunate and amazing that it took battle and bloodshed 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 packings, 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. 2 covered by body bags (WO. Richard Nolan, Sgt. Shane Stachnik) and 2 on stretchers; my platoon warrant (WO Frank Mellish), and a soldiers 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).

To the mods... feel free to delete this post if you find it pointless.

- Piper

Brotherhood of Warriors
Forged in battle
Baptized by fire
Quenched in tears

C Coy, 1 RCR
Panjwayi

Job Satisfaction

So Statscan says that 1 in 12 Canadians are not satisfied with their jobs.

Really? Wow, I would have thought that the numbers would be much higher than that. Is that to say that 11 in 12 ARE satisfied? That's not too bad at all. The report mention that shift workers, people working irregular shifts, sales representatives, service employees and factory workers all generally have lower levels of satisfaction. But I thought that there were a lot more people than that who were unsatisfied.

If so many people are happy, why do I always hear about boredom, the terrible bosses, the lack of vacation, and all that stuff that people generally like to say about their jobs? Is it just that people find common ground there? Is a job seen as "satisfying" if it does nothing more than provide a means to an end (money)?

I don't really know. What does it take to find satisfaction in a job? If I could point to one thing, it would probably be flow, the ol' je ne sais quoi that people can find in a job of any complexity, respect, or pay level. And a related question - why do people choose the job that they do? Do they get stuck in it because "it pays the bills?" Or because their education (or lack of education) limits them to it? What does it really take to abandon what you are doing and go after the job you always dreamed about?

I have the job I have always dreamed about. I am still training for it, and unfortunately there is still the stress-causing threat of failure. I lost sight of the job for a while a few years ago, when I felt myself being limited to my field of post-secondary knowledge. Luckily, I took a few months off after university, and found myself totally without employment upon my return. I had direction - I wanted to be a firefighter - but that wouldn't be possible for quite a while. It was during this time of working in a short-term, unsatisfying job that I found again what I wanted to do. For me, it wasn't the biggest risk. I left a fairly boring job for an exciting one. I ended up leaving behind my family and friends, but that didn't really seem real at the time so it wasn't at the top of my mind.

Someone else who is training here had to give up a whole lot more. He is married and has two kids, both with Down Syndrome. His wife has to take care of the kids. He had a comfortable job with IG as a financial planner. When he was 42 years old, he decided to give up his safe life and go for his lifelong dream of being a pilot in the Air Force. Now THAT....that is quite a risk.

So which is the way to go? Are you really satisfied with your job now? I ask myself this question all the time, and I am lucky enough to always have an answer. My contentedness could even be naive, considering the high failure rate and my complete lack of a backup plan, but I just don't want anything else right now. How about your job? Perhaps it is the safety of the job which gives you satisfaction and motivates you. Perhaps it really challenges you on a daily basis. Maybe you just work to make money to blow on the weekend. In any case, I think it is healthy to ask oneself every so often...is this the job I really want?