Glimpse into a soldier’s world
Review of Fifteen Days: Stories of Bravery, Friendship, Life and Death from Inside the New Canadian Army
Janine Avery
Editor, Western Sentinel
December 10, 2007
Just as Christie Blatchford had difficulties knowing where to begin when writing Fifteen Days: Stories of Bravery, Friendship, Life and Death from Inside the New Canadian Army, I had difficulties knowing where to start when reviewing it. I was interested in the book on many levels — as the editor of a military newspaper, as a military wife and as a Canadian.
Fifteen Days tells the stories of 15 separate days in Afghanistan, taking place between March 4 and Nov. 27, 2006. The accounts of those days are seen both through the eyes of Blatchford, a journalist who was in Afghanistan on four separate occasions reporting for The Globe and Mail, and through the stories of the soldiers who lived those days.
For the most part, Blatchford relies on the interviews of the soldiers involved. As an editor I admire the level of trust the soldiers granted Blatchford. The press has traditionally been something to fear among soldiers.
The stories are heart-breaking, vivid and voyeuristic. At times the stories mirror witnessing a car accident. I wanted to look away out of respect, and sometimes horror, but was unable to. It was almost like being in the room for the most intimate and shattering moments of the lives of my friends and neighbours. But at the same time I see the value of telling the story and I admire the frankness of Blatchford.
The Canadian public isn’t witness to a soldier telling a family of their son’s final moments. They don’t see a wife take her husband’s lifeless hand one last time. They only see glossy images of uniformed soldiers stoically bringing home their dead. They see the neat package of the precise military funeral presented by the Canadian media, not the messy, painful road that loved ones, friends, and comrades journey down. It’s a harsh reality easy to overlook from the outside.
Blatchford takes you to the heart of the battle, opens your eyes and won’t let you look away.
It’s that reality that makes me think this is not a book I would want to read just before my spouse was about to deploy. As the wife of a soldier, it’s a lot to take in. I consider myself tuned in to the military — it’s my job — but Blatchford takes you to places only frequented by the troops themselves.
Blatchford, through the stories of those same soldiers, also shows you the satisfaction and disappointment of the mission in Afghanistan. By taking you into the battles that took place on those individual days, she is able to illustrate the sheer frustration of taking a piece of ground for the third or fourth time, and the genuine sense of accomplishment of seeing hundreds of Afghan people visit a remote medical clinic set up by Canadians without fear for their lives. It’s a strange balance the soldiers live in, and Blatchford demonstrates it well.
It’s these same stories that reach into your heart as a Canadian. You can’t help but stand a little taller knowing it’s our citizens making a difference, albeit small at times. Blatchford’s stories make you want to stand behind our soldiers and let them know they have our unwavering support.
Blatchford uses the language of soldiers. The stories belong to them after all, and she strives to tell them through their eyes, using their voice. She illustrates the secret beauty of the developing country and its hidden valleys of green, all while showing you the dutiful sacrifice of the Canadian soldier whose blood has been spilled in those same valleys for a mission they sometimes lose sight of.
Blatchford tells the story their way, without forgiveness and without prejudice.
Often times this book is as hard to put down as it is to read. I found myself wanting to read more, but at the same time not wanting to read anymore at all. It’s an exposed wound of the CF family, and although it may hurt for those of us on the inside, garnering the understanding of those on the outside may be worth the hurt.
