On Tuesday, March 28th, 2006, I was making preparations for my flight home to Canada. Working as an English teacher, I had spent the greater part of the last three years in Busan, South Korea. Leaving would be bittersweet. With only two days remaining in Korea, the excitement of returning home was overshadowed by the reality of leaving behind great friends.

On my last day of work I savored all the idiosyncrasies of my students which, on any other day, might have irritated me, but today were more than welcome. I assured them that my replacement would be every bit the consummate professional and sometime 'game-player' that I had been. With a final round of goodbyes and a generous parting gift of traditional Korean masks, I left behind my job and coworkers.

On Tuesday, March 28th, 2006, Private Robert Costall died. Serving with the 1st Battalion, Princess Patricia's Canadian Light Infantry in Afghanistan, he suffered fatal injuries in a firefight with insurgents in an area northwest of Kandahar.

On Thursday, March 30th, I woke up from a fitful sleep on an airport bench at Kensai International Airport in Osaka, Japan. After a short hop from Busan to Osaka I was in the process of passing a five hour layover. I boarded my Air Canada flight to Vancouver at 5:00pm and felt like it was the first step of my reimmersion into Canadian culture after another 13 months away: The cabin announcements were in English and French, the inflight CBC broadcast showed images of a sunken ferry in Northern British Columbia, the movie satisfied Canadian content requirements, and the front page of the Globe and Mail displayed the face of Canada's most recent military casualty in Afghanistan, Private Robert Costall, his eyes small in the bright sun.

At noon on April 1st the remains of Private Robert Costall were repatriated to the Canadian Forces Base at Trenton Ontario. For the time being, this would be the last occasion on which the media would be invited to view and record the return of a flag draped casket to Canadian soil. (Under a new and controversial Conservative Party policy, the media will now be banned when the bodies of military casualties are returned to Canada. As well, the flags on Peace Tower in Ottawa will no longer be lowered to half mast on such occasions. The rationale for the latter being that all military casualties will be honored equally on November 11th, Rememberance Day. As Ottawa's policies on military deaths grow closer in line with Washington's, debate has begun to brew in the media, in Parliament, and among the citizens of Canada.)

On Tuesday, April 4th I exited a Malaspina Coachlines bus onto the lower cardeck of the Horseshoe Bay - Langdale ferry.

After arriving in Vancouver on March 30th I had spent a busy five days staying with my brother and reuniting with old friends. My brother and I watched the Canucks lose in a shoot out to Minnesota after an exhilarating 65 minutes of play. Plenty of storytelling and catching up was done over food and beers.

As I climbed the flights of stairs to the passengers levels of the ferry the door to the upper car deck swung open. Through the opening I saw the unmistakably shape and colour of a hearse surrounded by a large group of people in military uniforms. In Canada, unlike the United States, each military death is the subject of national attention. This hearse, with its military escort, was unmistakably carrying the body of Private Robert Costall to his home in Gibsons, B.C.

Enjoying the view of ocean and mountains from the upper deck of the ferry I could also look down on to the open front of the upper car deck. The young men and a few women who made up the military escort posed together for photos then broke up to enter the passenger decks.

As the horn blew to announce our departure a man dressed in plain clothes and looking clearly distraught approached the hearse. The lone soldier standing at ease near the back of the car approached him. It was obvious that he was a friend of the deceased young soldier and was overcome with emotion at the sudden shock of being on the same ferry. The soldier embraced the man and offered some words of comfort before leading him over to the hearse. As he opened the rear door the proud red and white of the Canadian flag flashed in the bright afternoon sun. The man leaned in and touched the flag draped coffin of a friend he would never get to say goodbye to. Shaken, he was escorted away from the hearse and shared some conversation with the soldier.

As I looked out at the scene before me many thoughts filled my mind. The contrast between the beautiful scenery of the coast and the grim, black hearse looking out over it was striking. I thought about my self and the young soldier lying dead in the hearse. Both young men around the same ages from the same part of the world. A week ago we had been worlds apart in different countries for different purposes. Circumstances, mine happy and his tragic, had brought us to that ferry on that day as we returned to our homes and our families. A lot of rhetoric flies around about the wars taking place in the world and the role of soldiers in those conflicts. Looking around at the towering, snow capped mountains and vast waters around me, I thought of what I would get to experience and he wouldn't: a happy return to my home. While I had certainly been looking forward to that, it seemed to take on more significance. To me, Private Robert Costall's choice to enter a life which, in the end, robbed him of that happy return home, was true and selfless bravery.