Funny story from near where I used to live.
Seems two murderers wanted in Cali were fleeing to the Canadian border, hotly pursued by police. Almost got there too.
That maroon car is the one the suspects were in. That 5 foot stone post to the right of the white SUV is the border marker. US agents wouldn't have been able to continue the chase past the border. Luckily, the SUV broadsided them in the nick of time.
Local US Paper.
And what did the Canadian border guards do when informed of the rapidly approaching fugitives? They fled. Walked off. Hard to blame them, of course, when they're unarmed.
From the Canuck's mouth:
http://cnews.canoe.ca/CNEWS/Canada/2...410687-cp.html
Some interesting quotes:
Interesting...what they heck are they good for then? Guarding against those who are harmless?A spokeswoman for the Canada Border Services Agency said the guards have the legal right to refuse to work if they believe they are in imminent danger. Guards who leave their posts are replaced by supervisors.
Dang. Not exactly an effective strategem for actual border defense, now is it?As it stands, border guards are supposed to allow anyone suspected of being armed and dangerous into Canada and then call police.
"We are supposed to withdraw because we're not armed," said Pellerin-Fowlie. "In many locations, that simply means the individual has gained entry because the response times are too long, hours, if at all."
And a bit from Mark Steyn:
Crazed RabbitLike much of the European Union, we're so heavily invested in the idea that we've found a kinder, gentler way we can scarcely bear to contemplate the reality. At the Washington state/British Columbia border last week, two guys on the lam were hightailing it through Blaine heading for the 49th parallel with the cops in hot pursuit. Alerted to what was coming their way, Canada's (unarmed) border guards walked off the job. For a country whose national anthem lyrics are mostly endless reprises of the line "we stand on guard for thee," we could at least stand on guard. A few years back, I was chatting with a border guard at the Derby Line, Vt./Rock Island, Quebec, crossing. A beat-up sedan came hurtling northward and we jumped out of the way. She sounded a klaxon. By then the driver was halfway up the Trans-Quebecoise autoroute and, if he ever heard her stern warning, he declined to brake and reverse back to the post to show his papers. "Oh, well," she said to me, "it's probably nothing."
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