Hon. Danièle Henkel: Honourable colleagues, some wars are firmly etched into our collective memory through books, monuments and commemorative ceremonies. Others are remembered more quietly, not because they were any less significant, but because they occupy a more modest place in our national narrative.
The Korean War belongs in that category. It’s often referred to as “The Forgotten War.” The name is imperfect, but it aptly captures the gap between the scale of the conflict, the sacrifice of those who served and the limited place it still occupies in our collective memory. It also reflects the silence of many veterans who returned home to little fanfare and, in some cases, without their service ever being fully understood.
[English]I wish to thank Senator Martin for this inquiry. Today, we have the opportunity to honour one of our most fundamental responsibilities as a parliamentary institution: to preserve memory, to deepen understanding and to pass that knowledge on to future generations.
The Korean War began on June 25, 1950, when North Korea invaded South Korea. However, its roots lay in the aftermath of the Second World War, the division of the Korean Peninsula and the ideological confrontation of the Cold War. It began at a moment when the world, barely emerging from catastrophe, was discovering that even a hard-won peace could quickly come under threat.
Canada answered the call of the United Nations. It did so in a tense international context but also in defence of a principle that was then still young and fragile: collective security. Canada understood that an act of aggression does not concern only those directly targeted; it believed that peace rests upon rules, institutions, alliances and the willingness of democracies not to look away when those rules are violated.
More than 26,000 Canadians served in the Korean War. Of those, 516 paid the ultimate sacrifice. Behind every number is a name, a face, a family and letters received too late or never sent at all. All of them were volunteers. Their decision to serve was not an easy one. It was made against the backdrop of the Cold War, anti-Communism and the still-vivid memory of the Second World War. In fact, 45% of the volunteers in 1950 were veterans of World War II.
Women also contributed to Canada’s war effort. More than 5,000 Canadian women were recruited for military service during the Korean War, including 60 military nurses who served in Korea and Japan, caring for wounded and sick soldiers.
[Translation]Today, I want to say a few words about something that is still too little known: Quebec’s relationship to this war.
The Korean War is probably even more forgotten in Quebec than in other parts of Canada. Yet it occurred at a unique time in our history, before the Quiet Revolution, when Quebec society was still grappling with the aftermath of the debates surrounding during the First and Second World Wars and had a complicated relationship with military remembrance.
Nevertheless, Quebecers served in this war, and Quebec families were affected. Quebec women also took part in this war. I want to pay tribute to the following women.
Marie Guimond trained at the Hôpital de l’Enfant-Jésus nursing school in Quebec City. She was sent to Japan and then on to Seoul, where she cared for injured soldiers.
Jacqueline Robitaille Van Campen was born in Quebec City and was a student at Université Laval in 1953, when she joined the Canadian Red Cross. She served in Japan and Korea, where she provided moral support to soldiers during lulls in the fighting.
Unfortunately, it’s still hard to ascertain the precise extent of Quebec’s participation, but we know that, of the 10,567 men in the initial special force, 3,134, or roughly 30%, were from Quebec. According to historian Pierre Vennat, around a third of the Canadian combatants in Korea were francophone. Many of them wore the uniform of the Royal 22nd Regiment, the only entirely French-speaking regular infantry regiment in Canada, which deployed three battalions to Korea.
One of the most memorable episodes for that regiment remains Hill 355. It has become a place of remembrance, a place where you can appreciate not just the ferocity of the fighting, but also the courage of those who held their ground, risking their own lives, holding a position, patrolling, waiting in the cold, suffering from sleep deprivation, mired in mud and uncertainty.
The veterans’ accounts bring us back to this stark reality. They talk about the comrades who didn’t come back, about the nights spent in bunkers filled with water, with just a blanket to try to keep warm. That speaks volumes about this war of endurance, where courage often meant holding on for just one more day.
[English]Yet, even amid this hardship, there were deeply human moments. There are accounts of French-Canadian soldiers distributing surplus food to hungry Korean civilians. This initiative, known as the “khaki charities,” shows that Canada’s involvement was not limited to holding the front line; it also meant interacting with children, families, devastated villages and, at times, performing a simple act of compassion.
In the summer of 1951, near Seoul, the Royal 22nd Regiment took in a six-year-old Korean orphan, Nong Joo Noh, who was soon nicknamed “Willie Royal.” He was made an honorary member of the regiment. He was given a small uniform, a bunk and little jobs to do in the quartermaster’s office. This story reminds us that, beyond maps and battles, the war was also shaped by acts of protection, human bonds and gestures of humanity toward Korean civilians who had endured so much.
It is this part of history that we must also pass on.
Honouring veterans also means recognizing that, in the great fractures of history, it is always human beings who bear the weight of the decisions made by states.
[Translation]Behind every conflict lie human stories, worried families, troubled homecomings, lives changed forever, kitchen-table silences, visible wounds and other, unnameable wounds.
The Korean War also taught us that an armistice does not always mean peace. On July 27, 1953, the armistice agreement brought an end to active hostilities, but it did not resolve everything. It did not reunify the peninsula. It did not heal separated families. It did not instantly transform a devastated country into a stable society.
In the years that followed, Canadians contributed to South Korea’s stability, reconstruction efforts and development. Canada is part of the long tradition of rebuilding the conditions for peace when the battles are done.
Peace is never merely the absence of gunfire. It begins when children return to school, when families can go home, when society rebuilds with dignity and normal life resumes.
[English]When we look at South Korea today, we can see how far it has come. The Republic of Korea is a vibrant democracy, a prosperous economy, an innovative society and a strategic partner of Canada. This achievement is the result of the courage, resilience, democratic struggles, hard work and creativity of the Korean people as well as an international environment that made it possible for this society to rebuild and flourish.
In a world where geopolitical tensions are mounting and where the Indo-Pacific has become a central arena for Canada’s security and prosperity, the Korean War is more than a simple memory; it is a warning. It warns us of what happens when delicate balances break down. It also reminds us that peace requires patience, perseverance and diplomatic courage.
For this memory to live on, it must be passed down. Younger generations know little about this war. This is not an accusation but rather an invitation to share the story.
We must make a place for these stories in our collective memory — not a loud place, not a triumphalist place, but a fitting place.
[Translation]Honourable senators, the “Land of the Morning Calm” has a beautiful name, but those who lived through the war there experienced days that were anything but calm.
By remembering the Korean War, we are telling the veterans, their families and their descendants that their story is part of our history. We are also telling younger generations that peace is never a given. Peace is something that has to be built and protected, and when it is passed down with dignity, remembrance can still serve the cause of peace.
Thank you. Meegwetch.