THE UNDERMINING OF SACRIFICE

CITIZENSHIP is an entwinement of rights and obligations.

It is that inner voice which keeps us on the straight and narrow, and
moves us to do our duty as members of the community.

The ultimate test of good citizenship occurred twice in the 20th
century: in the Great War of 1914-1918, and the Second World War of
1939-1945.

At 11 a.m. on Nov. 11 we stand, silent, in solemn remembrance of men
who were killed in the two wars: 60,000 young men in the Great War,
and 42,000 in the Second World War. A great many more sustained
lifelong incapacitating injuries.

After 1945, demobilized soldiers, sailors and airmen struggled through
the transition to civilian life in a new Canada, a land of
opportunity, an industrial state that had manufactured all manner of
military equipment and sophisticated products. In 1939, Canada's
cupboard was empty, in 1945 it was full; and in the aftermath of the
war Canada's economy continued to expand and diversify.

It was a remarkable transition for a million young Canadians: from the
depths of the Great Depression to a savage global war, and then back home to
enjoy duty's reward: freedom under law and order in a democratic country.

I often wonder about ordinary young Canadians and whether a glimpse
into the experiences of one veteran is typical of others.

On Oct. 4, a single page in the Province riveted me to its every word. Under
the kicker Jim English: 1924-2009, the headline read Bridge Builder Fought
with Devil's Brigade; Coalmont Survivor of Second Narrows Bridge Collapse
Was 'Bulletproof.'

It was a fitting tribute to Jim English by staff reporter Susan
Lazaruk. English died in September just before his 85th birthday.
Lazaruk portrayed English as a strong and modest man who, when called
upon, could do extraordinary things; an exemplary citizen in all respects.

Like so many others working in downtown Vancouver in 1958, I watched
the slow progress of the building of a six-lane bridge across Burrard
Inlet's Second Narrows; its seemingly unsupported steel girders
extending further and further high above dark and turbulent waters
below. On June 17, 1958, word spread that the bridge had collapsed,
sending me to a vantage point to stare, stunned, at the devastation of
a downed bridge.

Eighteen workers were killed, 79 were injured. English plunged to the
bottom of the narrows and floated to the surface suffering from
extensive bruising, a broken tailbone and a gash on his face. As soon
as he recovered from his injuries, English was back on the Second
Narrows Bridge continuing his lifelong passion for building bridges.

English's physical strength and toughness was hard-earned during his
boyhood. He left home at age 11 to work and board on various farms
near Prince George. In 1939, 15-year-old English put adolescence and
farming aside and joined the Canadian army.

As a battle-tested foot soldier and sniper, twice wounded, English won
transfer to the First Special Service Force, a brigade made up of
three elite regiments -- a mingling of 700 Canadians with 1,700
Americans. Their intensity in combat soon earned them the nickname of
The Devils Brigade -- inspired by their blackened faces and daring
courage.

English's luck as a soldier returned with him to Canada. On March 27,
1948, he married Ruby Ready, a union that continued for 60 years until
Ruby's death on Christmas Day 2008.

In 1945, when English and all his comrades-in-arms returned home, they
settled into making Canadian communities civil and peaceable.

Yet within one generation, just 30 years after the war ended, a
deviant drug subculture began insinuating itself into society.

And during the last 10 years local drug users have become increasingly
vocal and organized, propagandizing as the Vancouver Area Network of
Drug Users and claiming an inherent right to use illicit drugs without
moral and ethical constraint. Their ultimate goal: decriminalization
of illicit drugs.

Anomalous users of cannabis are on a parallel path lead by their
pretender, Marc Emery, the self-proclaimed Prince of Pot. Presently in
custody in Vancouver, Emery will soon be on his way to the United
States to begin a plea-bargained sentence of five years for selling
cannabis seeds to Americans. (It was a profitable business).

Emery is a self-proclaimed marijuana martyr. In fact he is a serial
violator of the law prohibiting possession of cannabis; and, as a
pipsqueak scofflaw, he has earned a well-deserved sentence in the
reality of an American jail.

In A Nation Forged in Fire: Canadians and the Second World War 1939-1945,
authors J.L. Granatstein and Desmond Morton said that "Those men and women
who gave their lives might have written great books, discovered cures for
disease, or, more likely, simply have lived out their days in peace in their
native land. They lost the chance for a full life because of forces beyond
their control, beyond their country's control -- forces most of them
comprehended only dimly.

"Was it worth it? Was it worth the death, the maiming, the unending
pain? That is a terrible question if posed by someone who lost a son,
a husband, or a father at Ortona, on HMCS St. Croix, or in a Lancaster
over the Ruhr. Even so, there can be only one answer. Was it worth it?
Oh, yes."

On Nov. 11, we shall stand silent commemorating the sacrifice of those
young men and women; evermore mindful of our rights and obligations as
citizens of Canada.