Auburn Annie
03-06-2009, 10:57 AM
March 6, 2009
My nephew Sean died for what he believed in
Special to the Citizen-Times (Asheville NC)
It was noon, Saturday, Jan. 31, when my phone rang. It was my brother-in-law, Michel, in Winnipeg. “Sean was killed today,” he said.
I could not speak.
Sean was the nephew of my late husband, Kirk. Kirk was Canadian; he had moved to St. Paul, Minn., in 1982. We met because I had been transferred to St. Paul with the railroad that same year.
Sean was the star of our family. He was a tall, movie-star-good-looking young man, always a beautiful smile on his face, 25 years old. I can still remember the night his parents called to tell us of his birth.
Sapper Sean Greenfield was serving in the Canadian Army in Afghanistan — a sapper is an individual engineer soldier, usually in British Army or Commonwealth military service. Sean was a combat engineer. He scoured the land with an armored vehicle and four or five other soldiers looking for improvised explosive devices.
And that is what hit his vehicle. He was the 108th Canadian soldier to die in combat in Afghanistan since 2002 and the second soldier to die in 2009.
Fateful decision
Sean was at the end of a mission to disrupt Taliban bomb-making facilities when he was killed. One of the four other soldiers in the vehicle said he was tired of driving, so Sean said, “I'll drive.” That other soldier survived and called Sean's parents, extremely distraught, saying it should have been him who was killed.
The only other injury among the soldiers was a scratch on the arm of the young soldier, Greg Hudson, who accompanied Sean's body home. Greg slept by Sean's coffin on the three-day trip home. He never left Sean's side. Greg's wife accompanied us, and at the hotel in Toronto where we gathered before the three days of services, she could not let go of her husband.
I wanted to hug Greg and said, in my naiveté, that we should just build a fence around Afghanistan and get out of there. He spoke strongly, saying, “Oh, no, we are making a difference there. We are building schools. Those children have never been to school.”
He said the children walk miles to where the soldiers are working and sit on their haunches, shoeless, and watch them work. The soldiers give them candy and other treats. He said one day Sean gave the little girls two cases of water and they walked 13 miles home with it and came back the same day to watch them work again.
The Canadian Army saw to it that all of Sean's family — parents, sisters, grandparents, aunts and uncles — were treated very honorably during all of the events held in Sean's honor. There were many dignitaries at the repatriation service held at the base in Trenton, Ontario, including the queen's representative to Canada, Gov.-Gen. Michaelle Jean, and Defense Minister Peter McKay. The service was very moving.
Support from citizens
Our driver on the two-hour trip back to Toronto — part of a long caravan of black limos, led by the hearse — had told us what to expect on the drive, but we were amazed by the show of support along the 401, which has been named the Highway of Heroes. There were people on every overpass, thousands of grateful Canadians holding flags, signs with thanks, waving, firetrucks, police cars, schoolchildren and their buses, people standing on top of trucks.
When we got into Toronto, population 4 million, all streets were blocked and many people were on the streets to honor our fallen soldier. We saw one scruffy-looking man holding a sign near the coroner's office, and we found out later it was Gordon Lightfoot, the famous Canadian singer who has taken it upon himself to support the troops. Later that week, Prime Minister Stephen Harper called Sean's parents to express his condolences.
I spent Christmas 2007 in Petawawa, Ontario, with the Greenfield family: Penney and Keith, the parents; Sean's older sister, Ainsley, and her husband, Mat; and his younger sister, Melanie. Mat is also a soldier at the Petawawa base and happened to be home on leave at the time of Sean's death. He's back in Afghanistan now, on his second tour.
Last Christmas
This past Christmas Sean had just finished and passed the combat divers course. He aspired to join Canada's elite JTF2, a Special Forces team, and we all had no doubt he would make it. He debated with his parents whether he should come home on his Christmas leave or go to Bali to dive with the sharks. His parents said to him, “You may never have this chance again.” So he spent three weeks in Bali diving.
Gathered in Canada to remember Sean, we all watched the video that he had taken while visiting Bali. It was difficult to watch, but we were also glad he was so happy in that beautiful, warm country.
Sean's family will forever have a missing link. They will have to think of his 25 short years and know he died for what he believed in. It was heartbreaking to know we had lost Sean, but I had to believe in my heart that he was doing what he wanted to do.
Doris Stromberg lives in Asheville.
My nephew Sean died for what he believed in
Special to the Citizen-Times (Asheville NC)
It was noon, Saturday, Jan. 31, when my phone rang. It was my brother-in-law, Michel, in Winnipeg. “Sean was killed today,” he said.
I could not speak.
Sean was the nephew of my late husband, Kirk. Kirk was Canadian; he had moved to St. Paul, Minn., in 1982. We met because I had been transferred to St. Paul with the railroad that same year.
Sean was the star of our family. He was a tall, movie-star-good-looking young man, always a beautiful smile on his face, 25 years old. I can still remember the night his parents called to tell us of his birth.
Sapper Sean Greenfield was serving in the Canadian Army in Afghanistan — a sapper is an individual engineer soldier, usually in British Army or Commonwealth military service. Sean was a combat engineer. He scoured the land with an armored vehicle and four or five other soldiers looking for improvised explosive devices.
And that is what hit his vehicle. He was the 108th Canadian soldier to die in combat in Afghanistan since 2002 and the second soldier to die in 2009.
Fateful decision
Sean was at the end of a mission to disrupt Taliban bomb-making facilities when he was killed. One of the four other soldiers in the vehicle said he was tired of driving, so Sean said, “I'll drive.” That other soldier survived and called Sean's parents, extremely distraught, saying it should have been him who was killed.
The only other injury among the soldiers was a scratch on the arm of the young soldier, Greg Hudson, who accompanied Sean's body home. Greg slept by Sean's coffin on the three-day trip home. He never left Sean's side. Greg's wife accompanied us, and at the hotel in Toronto where we gathered before the three days of services, she could not let go of her husband.
I wanted to hug Greg and said, in my naiveté, that we should just build a fence around Afghanistan and get out of there. He spoke strongly, saying, “Oh, no, we are making a difference there. We are building schools. Those children have never been to school.”
He said the children walk miles to where the soldiers are working and sit on their haunches, shoeless, and watch them work. The soldiers give them candy and other treats. He said one day Sean gave the little girls two cases of water and they walked 13 miles home with it and came back the same day to watch them work again.
The Canadian Army saw to it that all of Sean's family — parents, sisters, grandparents, aunts and uncles — were treated very honorably during all of the events held in Sean's honor. There were many dignitaries at the repatriation service held at the base in Trenton, Ontario, including the queen's representative to Canada, Gov.-Gen. Michaelle Jean, and Defense Minister Peter McKay. The service was very moving.
Support from citizens
Our driver on the two-hour trip back to Toronto — part of a long caravan of black limos, led by the hearse — had told us what to expect on the drive, but we were amazed by the show of support along the 401, which has been named the Highway of Heroes. There were people on every overpass, thousands of grateful Canadians holding flags, signs with thanks, waving, firetrucks, police cars, schoolchildren and their buses, people standing on top of trucks.
When we got into Toronto, population 4 million, all streets were blocked and many people were on the streets to honor our fallen soldier. We saw one scruffy-looking man holding a sign near the coroner's office, and we found out later it was Gordon Lightfoot, the famous Canadian singer who has taken it upon himself to support the troops. Later that week, Prime Minister Stephen Harper called Sean's parents to express his condolences.
I spent Christmas 2007 in Petawawa, Ontario, with the Greenfield family: Penney and Keith, the parents; Sean's older sister, Ainsley, and her husband, Mat; and his younger sister, Melanie. Mat is also a soldier at the Petawawa base and happened to be home on leave at the time of Sean's death. He's back in Afghanistan now, on his second tour.
Last Christmas
This past Christmas Sean had just finished and passed the combat divers course. He aspired to join Canada's elite JTF2, a Special Forces team, and we all had no doubt he would make it. He debated with his parents whether he should come home on his Christmas leave or go to Bali to dive with the sharks. His parents said to him, “You may never have this chance again.” So he spent three weeks in Bali diving.
Gathered in Canada to remember Sean, we all watched the video that he had taken while visiting Bali. It was difficult to watch, but we were also glad he was so happy in that beautiful, warm country.
Sean's family will forever have a missing link. They will have to think of his 25 short years and know he died for what he believed in. It was heartbreaking to know we had lost Sean, but I had to believe in my heart that he was doing what he wanted to do.
Doris Stromberg lives in Asheville.