I saw a train go by the White Rock beach last week on the way to Vancouver. That's not unusual. What was unusual was the cargo and people's response to it. On at least three large flatbed cars sat army tanks and jeeps. Inside the coffee house, many got up to see the train. I sensed curiosity and also a resentment towards that particular cargo. I really hope it wasn't just me, but even if it is, the tanks were unwelcome.
There is a sense of paradise to the White Rock waterfront. Many played with their children, walked along the wet sand as the tide was far out that day. It was warm and ice cream cones were a favourite snack to eat along the promenade, pier and beach.
It just didn't fit. I was glad that the train went by so quickly. I know war exists and I know that many of our young people are over fighting and trying to save the lives of innocent citizens. Most places I've lived in had army bases. I know that war exists and that many cannot escape the bloody carnage they see every day. I am one of many who have, on occasion, said "well, they know what they're getting into." I'm sure we cannot imagine what they see and deal with every day, but I still say, "Bring them Home! Bring them home so that they can see the ocean or the prairies or the mountains!" Don't let them have to watch again and again as a brother or sister-in-arms gets carried away in yet another airfield ceremony.