Does it horrify you to learn that the people who put their lives on the line to preserve our way of life are living on the street, homeless, disregarded, looking for solace from the nightmare they have experienced through any means they can find?
Does it not horrify you that they are cast aside now that they have served their purpose and we no longer need their youth, their energy, their commitment and their devotion to our country?
It horrifies me!
Do you know that there are as many as 500 veterans living on the streets of Winnipeg, homeless and without help, facing winter with nowhere to live, nowhere to go. Did you know this? And now, knowing this, can you honestly say you don’t care?
My Dad was 17 when he was enlisted during World War 2, just a few months short of his 18th birthday. They sent him to Shilo where he got his “basic training” (what a misnomer for what would follow) and then shipped overseas. Right to the Front. He was an inexperienced farm kid. It was the last and most brutal year of the war. He saw and experienced things no mortal should ever have to witness. He returned a shattered man.
This is the story for all those who went “overseas,” as they used to say. Where brutality and killing and atrocities are part of the daily bread.
The stoic, the uncaring, the unfeeling, were able to process it, but not all are. They come home, broken, unable to process the inhumanities they have witnessed. My dad struggled with it his whole life and it affected all of us, not that we loved him less.
But not all have a family to return to. The 500 on the streets today are testimony to that. It is shocking that we would turn our back on their services, their sacrifices, that we would not want to search for every single one of them with a hug and a home, a small way to show how much we value them.
Yet there they are: all sorts of folks – about 20% of whom are indigenous and another 20% women, by the way. People who offered up their lives for us while we turn our backs on them.
Do I sound emotional? I am. I cannot believe that a society that continually pats itself on the back for its caring and considerate ways, can be so unfeeling, so unappreciative as we are towards our veterans.
Do you know that the last budget cut the Veterans Affairs by $1.2 billion a year for the next four years for a total of $4.23 billion. In typical bafflegab fashion, the government also claims to have “raised” the budget, but records show this is just accounting terminology. Real dollars are being cut. And while the government claims that this is due to a pricing differential for medical marijuana, that is a small portion of the cut.
Most of it will come from reducing 44% of the service staff and some very controversial retroactive adjustment to the benefits calculation formula dating back to 1998! For all these years, the veterans have been overcharged for their personal portion of paying for long term care. There are lawsuits pending to recover these amounts and the proposed legislation would effectively end the lawsuits.
None of that matters to our homeless vets, however. They have given up hope. Some simply cannot adjust to the new reality of living an unstructured civilian life. Some are now addicted to drugs or still so traumatized that they cannot cope.
All of this leads to the group of people who are trying to restore some of the dignity our veterans deserve with an organization called Homes for Heroes, a committee on which I am honoured to serve. I was nominated by Kevin Klein and his wife Heather who were the honourary chairs that launched the campaign in Winnipeg. Their terms ended just before I joined. I have committed myself to doing my best to help find shelter for these fine and women.
It’s a strange thing but the most sensitive people are often the first to volunteer for such horrendous tasks as being first responders or going to war on our behalf. They can appear fierce and unfeeling, but don’t let that fool you. They are simply masking their commitment and emotional need to serve. I have personally heard and felt the pain of these heroes recounting the awful things they experienced and witnessed the toll it took on their souls.
So, Homes for Heroes is trying to fund 25 small homes for these folks – 350 square feet of living space, but each has a private kitchen, bathroom and bedroom as well as a living room, a place for their belongings and most importantly, a lock on the door.
There is also a common space for laundry facilities, and support services to help folks get back on their feet and reintegrate in the community.
The campaign has commitments for 11 out of the 25 promised homes. If you can help us build one, or know someone that would like to support the cause, please let me know at dorothy@pegasuspublications.net