Archive for: July 2006

While I usually dismiss such things as nothing but more nattering newspaper navel-gazing, several journalists have recently been taking a few minutes to examine and question the crass behaviour of some of their ilk (and sometimes they themselves) displayed in the wake of the death of Cpl Anthony Boneca earlier this week. Let’s see now if this catches on.

The father of fallen Canadian soldier Cpl Anthony Boneca, who was killed in action with only three weeks left to go in his tour, has sounded off with a loud and clear “screw you” () to those who have, in a crass and grotesquely Sheehanesque fashion, been misusing his son’s memory to promote their defeatist ideologies and the agendas that go with them. Boneca’s commander in Afghanistan, Maj. Tod Strickland, also took time out to fire a shot across the bow of the HMCS Surrender and its motley flotilla.

Various individuals, such as Cpl Boneca’s girlfriend and her father, have been spouting off to anyone who will listen that Boneca was “misled,” “unprepared” and “disillusioned” with the Canadian mission in Afghanistan (see previous post). But Antonio Boneca was having none of that crap:

“In all my conversations with my son, there was never any mention of him not being well enough or fit enough to carry out his military duties,” he said.

“He said it was difficult to cope with the weather, the sand, and the situation the young children endured (but) he was proud to make a difference in their lives and said he wished these children could live like we do in Canada.”

Maj Strickland was equally blunt:

“We all have our moments where we go, ‘Man, why the hell did I sign up for this?’ ” Strickland said at his office at the Kandahar Airfield, but “Despite the deprivations, despite the physical suffering, and perhaps despite any misgivings he may have had about the mission, this young man went forward and did his job. He did his duty . . . And that, I think, is a testament to him.”

So the message to Thunder Bay’s little band of Cindy Sheehan wannabes is simple and clear: spout your gutless tailtucking claptrap all you want, but keep Cpl Boneca’s memory the hell out of it.

Fittingly, considering how gleefully the MSM jumped on the bandwagon to smear their son’s good name and memory, the Boneca family asked that the repatriation service for their son be kept “as private as possible,” which means reporters can damn well stay on the far side of the fence.

With us finally (and gratefully) being rid of the Grits, I never thought that I’d be filing a post under both military and stupidity again within the forseeable future, but here we are. Go figure.

It seems that the Cindy Sheehan syndrome isn’t just an American phenomenon as we were hoping. The MSM has been gleefully hopping up and down all over the place about rumours that Cpl Anthony Boneca, who tragically lost his life in a firefight west of Kandahar on Sunday, was somehow “misled” about just what it is that a Canadian soldier is expected to do in Afghanistan.

Stories have been flying willy-nilly across the front pages of newspapers across the country saying that Boneca was so disillusioned with the army that he thought of faking suicidal depression to get out.

“He hated it there,” his girlfriend, Megan DeCorte, was quoted as saying. “It’s wrong, they should all be taken out and sent home to the people that love them.”

Her father, meanwhile, claims that “He expected to be on patrol, not fighting a war for someone else . . . He wasn’t ready for that.”

None of this adds up, even taking into account the somewhat reality-impaired nature of young men, especially young soldiers (if you tell a platoon of men under 25 that an operation expects 50% casualties, they usually all start to feel sorry for the man standing next to them). Despite his youth (only 21 years old), there is every indication that Boneca knew exactly what he was getting into, or should have.

Boneca joined the reserves fresh out of high school, at the age of 17, and had served in Afghanistan before, so he knew damned well what was going on there. Every man who signs up for the service knows that he may one day be asked to walk into a meat grinder for his country and they take that risk of their own free will, so that others won’t have it forced upon them.

Now we’re starting to hear from Megan DeCorte the same kind of tuck-tail-and-run talk that has been leaking out of leftist pieholes south of the border for a long time now: “It’s wrong, they should all be taken out and sent home to the people that love them.”

And just what the hell would that accomplish? I’ll tell you what. It would only embolden the enemy by proving, once and for all, that we are weak and that if they just push hard enough, we will tuck tail and do as we’re told.

Not a chance in hell. One way or another, we are in this fight whether we want to be or not. The only question is, where do we want to fight it; in the hills of Afghanistan or in the midst of our own population? I wonder what will be the new retoric of these defeatists when they start seeing their fellow Canadians murdered by the dozens, or even hundreds, by maniacal islamofascists bent on destroying anything that doesn’t fit their twisted, medeival world view?

We’re not going anywhere. We didn’t start this fight (and neither did the Yanks, no matter what some gutless “pacifists” might say) but we are damned well going to finish it, just like we always do. It’s the Canadian way.

I know, I know. This really has nothing to do with anything, but some things are just too darned funny not to post. Like this is. I found it on the letters to the editor page of today’s issue of the Freeps and it had me laughing so hard I was in danger of a coffee-out-the-nose incident.

It starts off pretty plain, just the kind of list of reasonable complaints that you might expect to hear from someone in this guy’s position. You wouldn’t even think it could be funny until you get to the last paragraph. Then it’s funny. I wonder what that kid has to say now?

Going to drive-in? Here’s a primer on good manners

First off, I am not out to spoil anyone’s fun.

As someone who lives in the country, I do have some suggestions to certain folks who come to the Mustang Drive-in.

• While juggling for a spot in line, please do not make U-turns into oncoming traffic. I have seen way too many close calls.
• Do not block our driveways.
• Please do not litter or urinate on our lawns.
• When hiding your friends in the trunk, at least make some effort to hide it.
• When dropping your friends off on Highway 74 to sneak in, please ask them to be quiet when cutting through our yards and to be careful not to trample the freshly planted crops.
• Please do not knock our mailboxes off the poles.
• Most of all, please try to refrain from honking at the start and at intermission. The owners will start when they are ready. You may only come out once in a while, but it gets really old twice a night, seven days a week.

P.S. If a parent lent out a beige/tan minivan on June 26 that came home with the rear bumper dented, it was because your son got caught trying to hit my mailbox with a two-by-four. He took off so fast in reverse he went into the ditch and hit a fence pole.

Thanks from the country.

K. L. Snyder

Belmont

WANTED

Have you seen this little bastard? If you have, turn his worthless ass in now, because he’s not going to be safe for long if he runs into the wrong man on the street anytime soon.

In case you’re wondering, this disgusting little snot got it into his vacant skull that it would be a jolly idea to celebrate Canada Day by PISSING ON THE NATIONAL WAR MEMORIAL!

My advice: if you see this little shit, call a cop right quick, before somebody horse-whips his worthless hide for desecrating the memory of the very men who are responsible for the fact that he can’t speak German.

After all the barbeque had been eaten on Saturday and most of the guests had gone home, I found myself sitting around the fire with the last holdouts of the Canada Day party (Joe, Mark and myself) and as the last of us prepared to stumble off to oblivion, I began to think (a dangerous pastime, I know; especially when drinking). Here we were, enjoying our celebration of living in the greatest nation on God’s earth, but did we spare a thought to how it got that way, or what it cost? We live in the kind of prosperity and security that has rarely, if ever, been known in the entire history of the world. But, exactly 90 years ago to the day, things were much different for this country; especially for our fighting men on the battlefields of Europe.

On the first of July, 1916, Canadian troops, along with our other allies in the British Empire, began what was not only the bloodiest battle our soldiers have ever seen, before or since, but also arguably the most costly battle in all the history of warfare. That’s right: the Somme.

What was supposed to be a glorious offensive that would smash the German lines and open the road to victory quickly turned into a hellish stalemate that would go on for more than five months.

On that fateful day, 100,000 fighting men in the service of His Majesty George V rose up from their trenches near that river in northern France and boldly marched through the yawning gates of hell itself. By nightfall, no less than 20, 000 of them would be dead and another 40,000 wounded. Before it came to its finish in November of that year, the meatgrinder that was the Somme claimed more than a million casualties; enough to make Afghanistan a pittance in comparison.

The courageous men of the 1st Newfoundland Regiment at Beaumont Hamel were the only colonial troops to go over the top that day. Of the 800 sons of the Rock who went forth from the trenches that day, all but 68 became casualties; 590 of them lie now in the earth of the Somme valley, their graves unknown. His Majesty was so moved by the courage and sacrifice of the Newfoundlanders, that he added the “Royal” designation to the regiment in recognition of their valour.

In a day and age when we, as a nation, are at last beginning to rediscover our respect for our soldiers, we should take the time to remember the sacrifices that have been made by those who came before them as well.

It really is the least we can do.

“The Canadians played a part of such distinction that thenceforward they were marked out as storm troops; for the remainder of the war they were brought along to head the assault in one great battle after another. Whenever the Germans found the Canadian Corps coming into the line they prepared for the worst.” – British prime minister David Lloyd George