Madam Speaker, I am pleased to rise to speak in support of Bill S-210, an act to establish September as Ukrainian heritage month. The legislation would recognize and honour the contributions of more than 1.3 million Canadians of Ukrainian heritage. I count many friends and members of my family as proud members of the Ukrainian Canadian community, and I am proud to represent thousands of people of Ukrainian heritage in my constituency of Parkland.
Ukrainian Canadians have served our country in every war since at least the First World War, and despite the sad, regrettable internment of Ukrainians during the First World War, thousands of Ukrainians signed up to fight and to defend Canada, including Filip Konowal, whose story I would like to share today.
Born in Ukraine, then under the Russian empire, Konowal was already an experienced soldier and tree-feller when he moved to Canada in 1913. In 1915, he enlisted in the 77th Canadian Infantry Battalion. He was a member of my own regiment, the Governor General's Foot Guards, the regiment whose tie I wear today.
Konowal took part in two of Canada's greatest military achievements: the Battle of Vimy Ridge and the Battle for Hill 70. For his bravery at Hill 70, Konowal, a Ukrainian, was awarded the Victoria Cross by King George V himself.
The citation describes his gallantry:
For most conspicuous bravery and leadership when in charge of a section in attack. His section had the difficult task of mopping up cellars, craters and machine-gun emplacements. Under his able direction all resistance was overcome successfully, and heavy casualties inflicted on the enemy. In one cellar he himself bayonetted three enemy and attacked single-handed seven others in a crater, killing them all.
On reaching the objective, a machine-gun was holding up the right flank, causing many casualties. Cpl. Konowal rushed forward and entered the emplacement, killed the crew, and brought the gun back to our lines.
The next day he again attacked single-handed another machine-gun emplacement, killed three of the crew, and destroyed the gun and emplacement with explosives.
This non-commissioned officer alone killed at least sixteen of the enemy, and during the two days’ actual fighting carried on continuously his good work until severely wounded.
After the war, Konowal continued to suffer from his wounds, physically and also mentally; we know this today as PTSD. Konowal later sought his family in the Soviet Union, only to learn that his wife had died during the Soviet-induced famine, the Holodomor.
In his later years, he actually worked as a custodian in the House of Commons. Later, he was even hired by Prime Minister Mackenzie King, who recognized this custodian's ribbon: the Victoria Cross. Konowal was just one of many Ukrainian Canadians who have proudly served in the Canadian Armed Forces to this day.
I want to pay tribute to another great Ukrainian Canadian, my dear late friend Leo Korownyk. Leo was born October 14, 1930, in Ukraine, and passed to join our Lord and Saviour, Jesus Christ, on March 1, 2024, at the age of 93. He is survived by his wife, Anne Korownyk; his children; and many grandchildren and great-grandchildren. Leo and his family are members of my church, and I was so blessed to know him.
Leo was the last known survivor in the Edmonton area of the Holodomor, the systemic genocide through starvation imposed on Ukrainians by Stalin's evil regime in Moscow. Leo survived not only the Holodomor but also the Second World War, before eventually making his way to Canada, where he established his family and flourished like so many others.
It is incredibly difficult to imagine what the decision to flee his homeland must have entailed. Leo later wrote, “When the Second World War erupted in 1941 between the Soviet Union and Germany, and also when in 1943 the Germans began retreating, thousands of Ukrainians and millions of Europeans [became refugees]. Our father then said aloud what he was thinking: ‘When the front moves back, whether I'm dead or alive I won't spend another single day under the Communists.’”
In the final stages of the war, Leo, his parents and his siblings, with all their belongings loaded onto a covered wagon, walked westward, fleeing the advance of the Red Army. I remember hearing this incredible story recounted at Leo's funeral: “That one small wagon, already on three wheels only and carrying the youngest member of our family, our sister Luba, had also on it a large shawl, the kind that usually women would wrap around their shoulders when the weather got colder. Mother had made that shawl...back in Ukraine; it was strong and it stretched, and she took it at the last minute. So now Father and Mother took that shawl...and tied [it] together, so that it formed a loop. Father...inserted the wagon's axle and carried the weight of [the wagon], while Mother pulled the wagon” [westward, out of Ukraine].
Like many immigrants, Leo struggled at first to make his way in Canada. He became a door-to-door salesman selling Fuller brushes. He later took up a position at the Northern Alberta Institute of Technology, where he worked servicing surveying equipment for 18 years.
An incredible writer, Leo's extraordinary contributions to Canada and Ukraine are reflected through his extensive literary achievements, which are collected in his published works, I lived there, hungered, but survived, a collection of poems remembering the Holodomor. Leo was incredibly passionate about language and preserving the language and culture of his beloved Ukraine, and for many years Leo would read his powerful poems at the annual Edmonton commemoration of Holodomor.
I would like to share a poem by Leo, which describes the horrors of the Holodomor and Stalin's attempt to destroy the Ukrainian people:
At times I sit alone and meditate about the world, the human race, chaotic history, uncertain faith, and shadows hide my downcast face.
For in Ukraine there was a restless sky, yet independence she proclaimed. There was great joy in every eye, “Long live our country!” all exclaimed.
And yet, my country's future was not bright. On the horizon, stormy clouds, a sign there may not be real peace inside. Instead, uncertainty and doubts.
For Russia always was our neighbour for engaging in a cunning ploy, thus causing wretchedness and much great woe. She thought her gift was to destroy.
So 1930 was the start to liquidate the kulak class, and Stalin acted with a stony heart. Did more evil, never less.
He sent a quarter million of our people East, and thousands died while going there. Still others, quietly in exile, were deceased. If some survived, lived in despair.
Then, in 1931, horrific deeds were taking place. A fearful sight. Great famine had begun. But Stalin tried to save his face.
150,000 starved to death, but that was nothing to what would come. What you will hear may take away your breath, or even make your body numb.
For Kremlin agents and the troops have gone, to peasants' homes with clubs and arms, to plunder them with zest like Genghis Khan. Then drink and dance in burning barns.
Thus myriads of such Kremlin's rank and file, like pythons coiled around our chests to choke our life, and all our land defile, and poison into hearts injects.
Our world was tumbling like an old brick wall, thus causing ruin and despair. Exhausted people could not walk, but crawl. It was a yawning, open hell.
So three years passed, of hungry nights and days, of Kremlin’s shedding blameless blood. All of Ukraine was in shock and dazed. Disease and death came like a flood.
Ten million people Stalin starved to death. Our fathers, mothers, children, youth, he took away God-given life and breath.
He hated God and us and truth. His mission was to see our country die, but we resolved to save our lands. He tried to kill us, jail and crucify; we kept our saber in our hand.
We called the world, “please come, we starve, help us!” They heard us well, and yet passed by, then said, “Why do these people fret and fuss?” We shrugged but did not blink an eye.
Though many decades came and now have gone, the memory still lingers on.
And now, we honour those who loved Ukraine till death, for they believed in her undying breath.
Dear God, all those who died of famine, genocide, grant them eternal rest. May they, in peace, abide.
Leo's legacy will forever endure in the hearts of those who had the privilege to know him. His dedication to Canada and Ukraine, his literary contributions, his humanitarian work and his unwavering faith in God serve as an inspiration to all.
Ukrainians like Leo and Filip Konowal made immense contributions to Canada, and I am honoured as a member of the Governor General's Foot Guards to recognize a heroic Ukrainian Canadian warrior who served in my regiment. I am also honoured to be given the opportunity today to share the story of my dear friend Leo Korownyk.
For Leo and the thousands of other Ukrainians who fled starvation and war, Canada served as a beacon of hope. I will miss seeing my friend again at church on Sunday, but I have faith that I will see him again.