You have no idea what it's like. Unless you've served, you have no idea what is faced by the people deployed to Ottawa and Victoria and the hotspots in other province/territories.
They are in the constant battle for hearts and minds. In Ottawa, they must leave the protection of chauffeur-driven town cars to make their way across the open expanse of the House of Commons lawn, a flat area exposing them to attack.
They are under constant threat of IEDs (improvised environmental demonstrations) or ambushes by terrorists posing as grandparents, siblings and parents.
Inside the HQ of their battles, or "The Hill," as it's often called, they are under constant threat of conscience; there's the landmine known as a free vote.
They must often leave the safety of their bunkers and make the perilous trip to checkpoint lima (House cafeteria.) When they join this fight, they are kitted out with gear in remote outposts, known as constituency offices, as well as a completely different set in their Ottawa bunkers, shabby places with wood-paneled walls and marble bathrooms. They give and give. And what does society do in return? There's no solemn, teary autumnal outdoor ceremony. No plastic flowers pinned to lapels to raise money to help them afford a cane.
No, instead, Canadians politely listen while these brave men and women are forced to make speeches at community events, parades, or even grocery store ribbon cuttings.
This just isn't right, how we treat them. No wonder so many of them "leave office to spend more time with family," only to be forced into lucrative jobs in the private sector.
We insult these proud warriors in office with a paltry six-figure salary. Then we insult them again, when they are no longer able to hold onto office, burdening them with fully indexed pensions and other benefits.
What we need to do is give them a one-time, lump sum payment, not enough to cover their post-political living expenses and medical needs, but just enough to know what Canadians truly think of them.
It's the least we can do.
