4. Trust and Loyalty

 

There's No Life Like It (part 4)– Trust and Loyalty

Why were our Christmas lights hanging from the roof for two weeks?

The roof was high and none of us could reach to finish the job Richard had started just before the General called. He had come down the ladder to take the call and never went back up. Instead, there were hours of phone calls followed by two weeks of twelve-hour days at NDHQ (National Defence Headquarters) calculating, strategizing, responding to the political leaders’ questions and following the Defence Chief’s directions.

In the meantime, our Ottawa house looked bedraggled, as if maybe it did not care about Christmas this year.

 

Inside the house it was a different story all together. We were busy making 3-D Christmas trees and sticking them on every corner you could see. We made star shaped cookies and Froot Loop chains for the tree. The little kids wobbled round the back yard rink holding onto kitchen chairs. In November, Richard and our backyard neighbour had called a race to see who could make their ice rink first. Maybe they should have had a Christmas light race in November too!

I felt that the lights were a sign that there was something even more important to my husband than being all ‘House and Garden’. It was his unrelenting sense of service. Throughout our life together I had learned to accept that Richard had another loyalty, to his country. I did get jealous sometimes, when he spent so much time away and when he was told that we would all be moving so that he could assume another post. I couldn’t understand why he would immediately drop everything whenever his leader called. He never lost sight of the big picture, no matter how much I whined. But I was also proud to be the one he came home to, the one at his side no matter what.

Watching from the inside, I wondered for years how such loyalty is developed.

Then one day, while watching my sons in a sea cadet drill competition, it finally made sense. Thank you, boys. And thank you to the Reviewing Officer who spoke to the cadets at the end of their intense day of precision and attention. I love formation marching, the patterns are mesmerising; every footstep, every gloved hand, every shout, has its purpose. OK, I’m a sucker for uniforms too.

This is what the Reviewing Officer said. He said, drill is the ultimate team sport. You have to trust the person right beside you and you have to trust the leader. There is no room for questioning. ‘Forward march’. Everyone goes the same direction with exactly the same size steps, no one will trip so no one needs to put their eyes down. “Right wheel”, the person on the right of the line marks time whilst the person at the left of the line follows a circle until ‘halt’. Everyone stops in exactly the same way, no one trips over

another.  Those in the middle take a slightly larger circle than the person on the right and a slightly smaller one than their left neighbour. Thinking about this I can understand how, in a volunteer military such as Canada’s, marching creates loyalty. Each person knows exactly where they are supposed to be and what they are supposed to do. They have to trust their team members completely.

When we were posted to the UK, we found that Naval Officers from all around the world knew that, although Canada’s ships were aging, it was the people of the Canadian Armed Service who could keep the fleet not only running but world class; the service members themselves acting like a well-oiled machine.  Canada’s armed service is still an essential player in global peacekeeping.

Which kind of puts into perspective the insignificance of unfinished Christmas lights. Two weeks later, when the latest crisis was averted, our house shone brilliantly. Dad was home.