One Bullet For Him

The following is a true story and sad story told to me of a long time friend of mine. The names of been changed to protect their privacy.

Growing up, every summer beginning as a newborn, my parents would pack up the car and we’d be off camping at Presqu’ile Provincial Park. These vacations were a highlight and to this day hold some of my favourite memories as a child.

While camping there we met and became friends with a family from Pennsylvania, the Anderson's, and our vacations would be planned so we would be there at the same time. They had several children who were older than me but I would spend a lot of time hanging out with them from the time I was 10 until I was in my teens. To this day some of them still come up to camp although their parents have long since passed on.

They convinced a friend of theirs to make the trip north in the late 70’s. His name is Bubba. Well, that’s what he went by. If anyone spoke his real name he didn’t appreciate it much. Bubba had such a good time that trip that he too decided to visit us every summer as well.

One year, Bubba brought his girlfriend Noreen up with him and they decided to get married while they were here.

We all helped to organize a little reception for them at the campsite after they returned from the Justice of the Peace. It was such a happy occasion surrounded by their friends and they’re still together to this day.

Time passed and Bubba and Noreen would always make the trip across the border to celebrate their anniversary at their favourite camping spot and I always made a point to visit them for a beer and maybe some card playing.

This continued up until about five years ago when we stopped seeing them and heard nothing from them. We knew Bubba had retired but as far as we were concerned all was okay, they just weren’t able to get away for some reason. Sadly, even in this day and age we didn’t even have an email address to contact them.

Fast forward to this fall when one of the Anderson boys showed up at the park again for some Fall camping. He gave us the scoop on what had happened to Bubba and why we hadn’t seen them in years.

Bubba enjoyed hunting. One day he grabbed his gun and ammo and decided to trek into the wilderness of Pennsylvania by himself. He’d done this before and he always went well off the beaten path where he’d never see another human, only wildlife.

This excursion began like so many before but eventually took an unforeseen and scary turn. It was during this trip that Bubba became ill.

He started to feel odd and eventually collapsed on the spot. I can’t even imagine the panic that must have been going through his mind. He was unable to stand or walk. He lost all use of his legs and any chance to get out of a hopeless situation. It was quite likely that where he sat was where he’d die.

Things were bleak to say the least. Bubba’s only hope was to fire off his gun and hope that someone would hear it and find him. The chances of him being found in time or that anyone would hear the gunshots or cries for help were bleak and he knew this. He loaded and discharged his weapon repeatedly most of the afternoon with no luck. As his ammo was getting low, he made the horrible choice to save one bullet for himself. If it came down to freezing to death or being lost forever in the hills of Pennsylvania, he decided that he’d rather end his life on his own terms.

It was looking more and more like his only remaining option would be to use that final bullet. The sun was setting, the temperature was dropping and not surprisingly he hadn’t seen or heard anyone the entire day. All of a sudden as if God had heard his prayers, someone emerged out of the bush right where he had collapsed. This was unheard of. In all the years hunting this area, Bubba had never encountered a single soul. But to his amazement, standing before him was his saviour.

Immediately the call went out to rescue him. Search and Rescue were scrambled and located him deep in the forest propped up against a rock and unable to move. Bubba was placed on a helicopter and air lifted to a hospital where it was eventually determined he'd had a serious stroke.

To this day, I'm told, he has been unable to regain the use of his legs and remains paralyzed from the waist down. His life is changed forever but he has his life thanks to a bullet he never used and miracle he never expected.

Remembrance Day Myth

Halloween has come and gone and with it went my diet and craving for chocolate. I think I might have set a new record for most tiny Aero bars eaten in the time it took to hand out candy to the trick or treaters visiting the house.

No sooner does All Hallows' Eve pass and the annual controversy surrounding Remembrance Day and Christmas resurfaces with a passion and anger no other holiday can achieve.

I'm not sure what fueled this debate but I can guess that the world of retail sales likely had a lot to do with it.

How dare these stores start pumping Christmas carols out of their speakers before November 11th and the day we honour our veterans of past conflicts and wars. Why is this even controversial?

Is there some rule or bylaw that states celebrating the holiday season can't begin until we've officially recognized the sacrifices made by our brave men and women in uniform? Am I disrespecting their memory by listening to Jingle Bells on November 8th?

I consider myself lucky to have spent my entire life living in a military city. I have known many people who have served in dangerous places as peace keepers and in areas of brutal conflict. My uncle served in World War 2 and I knew a couple of men who landed on Juno Beach in Normandy on D-Day and survived. One man hit the beach and had friends on either side of him shot and killed as they moved forward.

These men I knew have since passed away but I asked one of them several years ago about this very subject. While he didn't like to talk about the war too much, he did feel strongly that he fought to preserve our freedom and way of life. Freedom means being able to celebrate whatever you want whenever you want and he had no issue or complaint with people celebrating Christmas prior to Remembrance Day.

He only asked that for that minute at the eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month you think about the sacrifices he and his fellow soldiers gave so that we may live as we do today.

I don't think that's too much to ask which is why I always try to attend the service at the cenotaph on November 11th or at the very least stop and silently remember them. I know for a fact that if I'm listening to Christmas music on the way to the service he'd be completely fine with that and that's good enough for me.