Mr. Speaker, I am pleased to take part in this debate this afternoon.
I want to begin by congratulating my colleague from Sackville—Eastern Shore on introducing this motion and making it the focus of an NDP opposition day. I think that my speech will not deal with the motion at all, because my colleague from Saint-Jean and my colleague from Magog have done a very good job of stating the Bloc's positions on this motion. The Bloc Québécois will vote in favour of the motion. I only hope that the government will not put the motion in file 13, the round file, but will draw conclusions from it and make something of it.
I would like to remind this House of how the people in government treat our veterans. I will start with the case of one veteran, whom I will name: Armand Pilon. This Montrealer, along with other veterans, has been fighting since 1987 to receive a pension because of his injuries. I will briefly tell the story of Armand, a man over 80 who fought for democracy, freedom, peace and justice in the world.
At the tender age of 17 or 18, Mr. Pilon enlisted in the Canadian Forces. Unfortunately, Mr. Pilon is not a big man. He stands 5 feet, 2 inches tall. He was sent to a training camp in Rimouski, in my colleague's riding, Rimouski—Neigette—Témiscouata—Les Basques. During a night exercise, while skiing, he fell into a hole. A number of his comrades fell on top of him, injuring his back. He sustained injuries to his L1, L2 and L3 vertebrae.
Hon. members will recall that in the early 1940s, many people enlisted to make a decent living while serving their country. Canada had just been through a depression and money was scarce.
My friend Armand is hurt. That still happens nowadays as we saw in the report of the army ombudsman, Mr. Yves Côté. His superiors tell Armand to not report his injuries, to not go to see the doctor, that the nurse will take care of it because it could hurt his career, because perhaps he will not be able to continue in the army and because he may be forced to leave. Armand stays at home, does not say a word, massages himself, takes or is given my grandmother's treatments—I have nothing against them, there were some good ones—because that is the way it was in those days. They rub him with Minard liniment and he is given six to eight weeks' leave, the time needed to get him back on his feet.
I think that the army brass realized that Armand would never be able to go to the front because of the injury that was not reported in his medical file on the advice of his superior.
Armand is sent to the coast of Newfoundland where he will specialize in sending messages in Morse code to aircraft. He will do this work until the war ends. After the war, he is told that because he is not in good shape and he is not very big there is no longer a spot for him. And he is sent home.
Armand returns home and still has back pain. At the time, Armand felt, just as an old hockey player would, that he should keep his injury a secret out of fear that someone would take his place and out of fear that upon his return he would no longer have a job. Armand said to himself that it was better to work with some pains here and there and that they would go away.
Armand returns home. He is in pain all the time and often sees doctors. His son, who is a lawyer, told me that when he would get out of his car he had difficulty standing up and moving. The son had always known him to be like that.
In 1952, Armand was unemployed. He was married and had children to feed. In the early 1950s, he has the opportunity to enlist in the army to work in Saint-Hubert, in the Montreal area, where there is a naval base and an air traffic control service. Armand has experience in that field. He goes there, has a medical exam and nothing is detected. Armand does not say he has a bad back because if he does, he will not get the job. He needs to earn money to take care of his family. He enlists.
After two or three years, he can no longer take the pain and decides to leave. He spent his whole life suffering and using Quebec's health care system. This happens in other provinces as well. Every month, two or three times a month, Armand went to his doctor, a physiotherapist and other specialists to take care of his problem.
It was in 1987 that his real problems began. He applied for compensation, for a disability pension because of his bad back. He submitted his claim and told his story. The Department of Veterans Affairs explained to Armand that there was no evidence that he was injured and therefore it could not pay him benefits. Armand said he hurt himself skiing and told the story that I have just relayed.
Armand decided to appeal, which made matters worse. Anyone who is familiar with the appeal process knows it can be complicated. The first time someone appeals, a group of blue collars and white collars, who have no medical experience, review the file amongst themselves, flip through some documents only to uphold the decision.
Since when can a court of justice—because it is court of justice—take decisions without even giving the person concerned the chance to give his testimony?
That is how Veterans Affairs operates. Armand did not provide testimony and his case was dismissed. The process took two or three years, from 1987 to 1988, from one court of appeal to another.
Finally, in 1988, Armand had all the documentation. He went to see doctors and their reports proved that his L1 vertebrae was fractured, and that it happened when he was young. Armand said that he fell while he was skiing, which could indeed cause this type of fracture. Armand had all the documentation. However, since it had not been reported in 1946, or while Armand was training, he was not be entitled to a disability pension.
Armand is like a bull dog, and by that I mean he does not give up easily. So, he went back. This time, in order to increase the pressure, he appeared before the tribunal, along with his wife and child.
He was represented by a lawyer paid by Veterans Affairs Canada. As the adage goes, don't bite that hand that feeds you. Furthermore, I must wonder if the lawyer was more faithful to his client or the department. Armand appeared before the tribunal and testified. The three commissioners told him that they believed him and that they thought his documentation was valid. No one thought he had lied, and no one thought his wife had lied. The documentation served as evidence and an expert, Dr. Tadros, confirmed that it happened during a skiing accident when Armand was young. Everyone believed him and, yet, the ruling remained unchanged. This is now 2006. The only thing Armand should now do is take civil action against Veterans Affairs Canada.
What is even more amazing, as I was telling my friend, the member for Ahuntsic, is that he had to pay for all the examinations and assessments that the Department of Veterans Affairs requested. Armand had to pay $600 out of his own pocket. A mere $600. That is nothing for a man who served his country and went to war for democracy. It cost him $600, and he is still owed that money. He has never received his $600. He has never been repaid. He is still owed that money.
The last time he went to court was in 2001. I have hope for my friend Armand, because I have requested a meeting so that he can plead his case to the minister. I do not know when this will be over or how it will turn out, but I believe that his only hope is to lay down some more money and launch a civil suit. I know that he will, because he is like a bulldog.
His life and his marriage have been destroyed because of that blasted injury. He has suffered from it for his whole life. In my opinion, it is time to give him the benefit of the doubt. The law says that, but it is not put into practice. When it is difficult to hand down a decision on a case, the court should always decide in favour of the soldier or veteran. But that is not what happens. A court has never handed down a favourable decision based on hearsay or given the soldier or veteran the benefit of the doubt. I have never seen it, even though I have handled a number of cases. Armand's case is typical, and there are many others like it.
Now, I would like to talk about my other friends, the people I affectionately call “my messed-up buddies”. These are people suffering from psychological problems as a result of serving as peacekeepers, young people suffering from post-traumatic stress.
I will name a few of them, to please them and let them know I remember them. Max Steben, I am thinking of you; François Gignac, I am continuing to work for you; Simon Bois, we are going to win; George Dumont, we have to keep on and not give up. There is also Yves Côté, my friend Louise Richard, Joy Anderson of London, Shane Bruha. These are only a few of the young men and women—the same age as my son and daughter—who suffered enormous pressure during the war in Bosnia-Herzegovina, which caused them psychological problems.
Even though it is dinner time, I will tell a story, which I hope will not turn anyone's stomach.
How might we react if we were walking along one day and saw a pregnant woman whose stomach had been cut open like a stuck pig, and whose baby's throat had been slashed. Would we not be left with some mental problems? I would certainly think so.
Considering all the atrocities these young people have witnessed, it is only normal that they have problems and are suffering from PTSD. It is time that the government acknowledge these young people. It is time we all join together to give them what they need.
That is how we treat our veterans. I am not even referring to those who went to war, but those who served on peacekeeping missions. Consider, for instance, Somalia and General Dallaire, who threw himself into the Rideau Canal, here in Ottawa, because of post-traumatic stress problems. General Dallaire is now a senator. He is a very intelligent man. He is a wise man who served in Somalia. Imagine young people who have less experience. Some of them experienced war much earlier. Think of these young people.
What are we doing for our young people who participated in Desert Storm, where they were exposed to toxic gases and depleted uranium? What are we doing for Louise Richard? Since she came back, she has been fighting little by little. Fortunately, yesterday, Yves Côté, the National Defence ombudsman, gave us a reason to hope. He told us to make recommendations, and that those recommendations might make a difference. The Department of National Defence says it somehow lost some medical documents and cannot find them. Were those documents lost accidentally or on purpose? Half of these young people's medical files are missing. They have disappeared.
What are we doing to provide fair treatment to these young people who are fighting for democracy? They are fighting not for Canada, but for democracy around the world, to bring it to Afghanistan and to bring it back to Kosovo, and elsewhere. We have to take care of these children, of my children.
I wish I had two more hours to say all I have to say. It has been exactly seven years since I began meeting these young people every day, and every day, I cry.
I will stop now because I cannot go on any longer. But before I finish, I want to take a deep breath and calm down by reading some lines by a well-known Quebec singer-songwriter, Raymond Lévesque. Had I not shouted earlier, I might have enough of a voice left to sing.
When people learn to love each other
There will be no more misery
My brother
I might add:
When people learn to love each other
There will be no more war
My brother