The last time Trevor and I had a long evening together was just before he headed out.
He would come up from Vancouver for training exercises. When he had some free time, we would have him over to our place, have some food and wine and good conversation, and occasionally he would crash at our place for the night. I would get invitations to an event or two. My previous parish had a sizable representation from the Armed Forces. Being the Padre had its privileges, and its burdens.
We had an evening at the Officers' Mess just before he left. It was one of those conversations which only two guys who have known each other since college could have. We laughed about where our various paths have led; he joked that I had to become a priest because he would never allow anyone else to baptize his kids. I told him I still wasn't sure I would trust him with a gun. We spoke of why we believed we were each "called" to what we were doing.
"I was attending a shura, a council meeting of elders, outside of Kandahar city," Greene writes.
"I had taken my helmet off out of respect for the elders, a practice that we all followed at that time. Only the quick reaction and lightning reflexes of Capt. Kevin Schamuhn, Third Battalion, Princess Patricia's Canadian Light Infantry, who shot him down, prevented him from taking a second bite and saved my life."
Now, 18 months later, Greene is recuperating from his injuries. He has endured 13 months in Vancouver General Hospital and is undergoing rehabilitation at Alberta's Centennial Centre with his fiancée Debbie Lepore and their young daughter Grace.
"I'm in a wheelchair now," writes Greene, now a Canadian army captain.
"My elbows and wrists ache from being clenched at night, my hands don't work. As I dictate this, my voice is at the level of a whisper, much improved, I'm told, from earlier communication via eye blinks. I'm on painkillers and sleeping pills. I have dents in my skull and double vision, but my eyes aren't crossed, my speech isn't slurred and I don't drool.
"I am one of the lucky ones, I came home to the love and support of a beautiful, incredible woman and a baby girl who I am looking forward to spending the rest of my days with, and a large group of friends who have been steadfastly supportive.
"I will eventually heal, however, and I dedicate this column to those who have fallen."
From Capt Trevor Greene, read the whole story at
The Toronto Star
Like so many stories, this makes wonderful reading now but is lost in deepening pile of sad news. Keep us updated. I was with a militia unit and that could has just as easily been me.
Posted by: Prairie Words | January 05, 2008 at 07:09 AM