And Two Makes Forty-Four

After six weeks of relative safety, the Canadian army lost two soldiers the other day in Afghanistan. They were traveling in a convoy when a suicide bomber blew up his vehicle, damaging theirs. The losses brought up the total Canadian fatality count to forty-four soldiers and one diplomat killed in the Afghanistan mission, most of them in 2006.

The families say the things military families are supposed to say, things like, "He died doing what he loved doing." I am sure that is true. Why else would someone put themselves in harm's way to face death in someone else's country? The soldiers must have truly loved being in the army and serving as their government saw fit to deploy them.

The Afghanistan mission is a tough sell. Canadians are torn between wanting our troops home without further losses, being proud of the job they have accomplished, and worrying that the war may not be as much of a Dudley Do-Right mission as it was initially portrayed. No doubt historians five decades from now will find similarities between Afghanistan and Korea, the last major conflict in which Canadians saw combat.

I am torn too. I am proud of how well our troops have carried themselves. I know it is politically incorrect to say this, but I am pleased to see that they are still effective at the arts of war, especially after the neglect of successive governments. I am sad that so many of them have died.

Most importantly, I sometimes wonder if the end result is worth it. Who knows if democracy will really take root in Afghanistan? Who knows if the lives of women and children (and men, for that matter) will ever change for the better? Who knows if a hundred years from now the Afghan elders will tell their grandchildren of the times when the brave freedom fighters first chased out the Russians and then chased out the NATO armies? Who knows if the fighting will ever end?