Canadians, Courage and the Cowichan Valley Dragon Boat Divas

We are back in the States after spending five great days with friends on Vancouver Island in British Columbia, Canada.  That means we were watching the Olympics with a Canadian twist and I was cheering them on just like the Americans.  As of this writing, Canada has 10 Olympic medals.  I don’t differentiate gold, silver or bronze here.  Frankly, when you are competing with the world’s best athletes, and the difference between rankings is measured in one one-thousandth of a second, or tenths of an inch, or hundredths of a point, any medal is a remarkable achievement.  But Olympians were not the bravest people I found evidence of in Canada.  That distinction was held jointly by a group of Korean War veterans, and some modern women. 

I learned about the Canadian men at their memorial on Radar Hill in the interior mountains of Vancouver Island.   They were the 2^nd Battalion, Princess Patricia’s Canadian Light Infantry (2 PPCLI) and their moment of exceptional valor occurred during the Battle of Kapyong, April 22-25, 1951.  The Korean War is frequently referred to as the, “forgotten” war.   It certainly isn’t by those who fought there, much less the heroic Canadians who, outnumbered 7 to 1 by battled hardened Communist Chinese troops, called in air strikes against their own position to avoid being overrun.  Choosing to face, “friendly fire” rather than allow a Chinese victory, Captain J. G. W. Mills, called for a withering artillery barrage against the enemy.  It succeeded.  His men, disciplined, prepared, well led and determined, survived the shelling and inflicted their own intense damage on the hoards of infantry coming towards them.  I was awed by the courage of these men.  To be willing to absorb the hit of your own artillery in the hope of victory is an act of tremendous courage.  Add to this, the fact that they weren’t even defending their own land or people.  They were on that hill to protect the retreat of the South Korean soldiers.  Those Canadian men were there because they were fighting for something more abstract than, “God, Queen and country.”  They were fighting for freedom.   You need only look now at the difference between North and South Korea to see how important that is.

 Of course, there are lots of different kinds of freedom.  One of them is freedom from fear, and for that I cite the Cowichan Valley Dragon Boat Divas.  At the Cowichan Maritime Museum we discovered the headquarters a group of dragon boat racers made up entirely of women who are breast cancer survivors.  Dragon boats are large, wooden canoes, obviously of Chinese origin.  They are manned by 22 person crews: 20 paddlers, a drummer, who sets the rhythm, and a sweep, the person who steers the boat.  For competition the boats are traditionally decorated with Chinese dragon motifs.  The logo of the Cowichan Boat Divas is a dragon whose tail curves into the pink, ribbon characteristic of breast cancer awareness.  These women have the stated goal of raising awareness, funding research for a cure, and to overcome the loneliness of cancer by using team work, encouragement and laughter.  They have been racing for hope and victory sense 2004.  They have lost some women, but empowered so many more.  I loved the poem, untitled and anonymous, that is framed on the door to their equipment room:

Cancer is so limited...
It cannot cripple love.
It cannot shatter hope.
It cannot corrode faith.
It cannot eat away peace.
It cannot destroy confidence.
It cannot kill friendship.
It cannot shut out memories.
It cannot silence courage.
It cannot reduce eternal life.
It cannot quench the Spirit.

            Here’s to all the Canadian heroes who keep the faith.