Mr. Speaker, it is an honour for me to rise today as both a veteran of the Canadian Armed Forces and a parliamentarian to speak for a moment about Veterans' Week and our collective duty to remember the service and sacrifice of our fellow citizens. It is an honour because Canada's Parliament is both literally and figuratively built upon the sacrifice of the generations who came before us.
Many Canadians recognize the iconic tower of Parliament as the Peace Tower, but its full name is the Tower of Victory and Peace. It was rebuilt following a fire during the Great War, and it was built to honour our fallen. Now, being Canadians, over the years we modestly omitted the “victory” part, but let us never forget that the peace symbolized in this building came as a result of tremendous Canadian sacrifice, achieving victories far from our shores.
The Tower of Victory and Peace is the physical body of our parliamentary democracy, but Canada's soul can be found inside the tower, in the Memorial Chamber.
The Memorial Chamber contains stones from all of the major battlefields of Europe. It has brass plaques and markings forged from battlefield artillery casings. It also contains our most hallowed library: the Books of Remembrance. Each day, pages of the Books of Remembrance are gently and respectfully turned in a ceremony that honours our fallen. These are pages with thousands of names of Canadians who most of us will have never met but to whom all of us owe so much.
If it seems as though I am giving a guided virtual tour of Parliament Hill on some of the ways that Parliament commemorates the service and sacrifice of Canada's veterans, it is because I am giving a virtual tour in a year that we are living virtually.
Our commemorations will be different this year. They will show greater solidarity, while being more personal. The places we normally gather to remember will be closed, and we will be far from our brothers in arms and their military family. We shall remember the courage shown by these men and women who sacrificed so much to ensure we could live in a country at peace.
Across the nation, for the first time in a century, there will be no parades of remembrance. Many cenotaphs will not have ceremonies, and others may only have 10 participants where we once saw hundreds or thousands. From the National War Memorial in Ottawa to the smallest cenotaphs in the towns and hamlets of this country, services of remembrance will not look or feel the same this year.
Therefore, I am challenging Canadians to show their commitment to remembering our veterans and those who serve in new ways: memory, remembrance and respect. These are not physical actions anyway; they are emotional acts that we can dedicate ourselves to upholding during a year when Canadians have dedicated themselves to adapting and persevering through very challenging times
Canadians can remember a fallen relative or Canadian hero in their prayers, reflections or on social media. They can respect the sacrifice of those who came before us by wearing a poppy, even if they are the only people who see it. They can learn about our history, our military heritage and the incredible stories of bravery of our men and women in uniform. They should think about the thousands of Canadians serving in uniform today at home and abroad. They are serving for the same reasons Canadians have served for more than a century: They believe in this country and what it represents.
I will use my remaining time to remember and honour one name in the Memorial Chamber that I think of each November 11 and some other Canadians whose names will soon be inscribed on Canada's soul, our Books of Remembrance, when it reopens after the pandemic.
On page 214 of the book In the Service of Canada is the name of a woman from Weyburn, Saskatchewan, who I met on my first full day in the military at boot camp in Chilliwack in 1991. Juli-Ann MacKenzie was an exceptional Canadian and was loved by all who met her. She was a piper, a patriot. As a kid, Juli-Ann dreamed of becoming a pilot and that is exactly what she did. She became a great pilot. She served on Sea King helicopters before being posted to fly in the Griffon out of Goose Bay, Labrador.
She was on a search-and-rescue mission on July 18, 2002, when her Griffon crashed. The crew in the back survived because of the dedicated actions of the pilot, Juli-Ann. While I cannot physically view her name in the Books of Remembrance this week because of the pandemic, I can tell her story and make sure more Canadians learn the story of service and sacrifice of my friend Juli-Ann MacKenzie. Memory is an emotion; it is not an action.
We have lost Canadians to service during this pandemic, and while their names are not yet in the Memorial Chamber, I can honour them in this chamber.
Canadians remember, as the Prime Minister said, those who died in the tragic Cyclone helicopter crash in the Mediterranean: Captain Maxime Miron-Morin, from Trois-Rivières, Quebec; Captain Kevin Hagen, from Nanaimo, British Columbia; Captain Brenden Ian MacDonald, from New Glasgow, Nova Scotia; Sub-Lieutenant Abbigail Cowbrough, from Toronto, Ontario; Master Corporal Matthew Cousins, from Guelph, Ontario; and Sub-Lieutenant Matthew Pyke, from Truro, Nova Scotia.
Tragedy struck when Canada's iconic Snowbirds were performing Operation Inspiration across our country to lift our spirits. An accident led to the loss of Captain Jennifer Casey, from Halifax, Nova Scotia.
Just last week, Canadians mourned the loss of Corporal James Choi from Vancouver, British Columbia.
They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them.
As a veteran, I always felt that the next verse of this poem personalized the loss of our fallen so much more. They are the sons and daughters of Canada, and for those in the military they are the friends we trust our lives with, the comrades we laugh loudest with, the brothers and sisters we love and hope desperately to return home safe with. The next verse evokes those feelings:
They mingle not with their laughing comrades again;
They sit no more at familiar tables of home;
They have no lot in our labour of the day-time;
They sleep beyond England's foam.
I know there are veterans across Canada who may be struggling with the invisible wounds of service during this unique remembrance week. I know they may feel alone when thinking of their laughing comrades. This pandemic has put a pause to the traditions that bind us. It has robbed us of our capacity to see our friends who suffer from operational stress injuries. I know that families feel hollow looking at the empty seats at their dinner tables.
I know there are veterans across Canada who are suffering from service-related invisible injuries.
I know many of you might feel as though you are alone, but you are never alone. We are with you. Your country is with you.
I want veterans to know that they are not alone. They have a grateful nation with them. They have friends and comrades that want them to reach out. They have supports. They are loved and we are all here for them. They are going to get through this week, just as our country is going to get through this pandemic.
They should know that on Remembrance Day and on every day, the country will never forget our veterans' service and sacrifice. Lest we forget.