Summary
"When I finally heard from [Troy Leifso] again he was telling me he was up and walking," Leifso picking up the story. She makes her voice sound loopy and drunk. "He was like, 'No, really I'm fine, babe.' I said: 'Are you still on a backboard?' He said 'yes.'"
"And [Tristan]'s going to everybody, 'where's my daddy? Where's my daddy?" And as we're leaving the base he says 'we looked in every room and we couldn't find my daddy.'""He's like 'what's wrong?' and I'm like 'nothing's wrong and I'm just upset about what happened'. I couldn't say it, I couldn't even say because Jason died. He said 'you know, we're really being safe' and I wanted to say 'well don't you think HE was being safe? Do you think he deliberately went out there wearing a shirt with a target on it?'See the full content of this document
Extract
They Also Serve
Shilo wives wait, hoping the dreaded call never comes
Lindor ReynoldsWhen most Canadians think of the military, they see camo-clad soldiers going off to war. They imagine danger, drudgery, yellow ribbons tied around trees and the potential for tragedy. But few people think of the families left behind, those who are married to the military. This month, Free Press columnist Lindor Reynolds travelled to Shilo and Carberry to talk to some of the wives and children whose daily lives are defined by the war in Afghanistan, even as they slog through their days as single parents and fatherless children, families who fear the knock on the door that will tell them their world has come crashing down.Tara Leifso's home is in chaos.Vader, the family's enormous eight-month-old black Lab cross, barks frantically and relentlessly from a back bedroom.Ivory, 14, is at school so the mother-daughter conflict that vibrates when they're together is temporarily silenced.The phone is ringing, there's someone at the front d...See the full content of this document
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