Speech by Prime Minister Jean Chrétien on the Occasion of the 50th Anniversary of the Liberation of Holland

Groesbeek Canadian War Ceremony

Your Royal Highness, Mr. Prime Minister, distinguished guests, ladies and gentlemen:

On behalf of the people of Canada, I want to thank her Royal Highness for joining us today at this special ceremony. The Royal Family has a very special place in the hearts of Canadian veterans - and all Canadians.

We are proud that when this land was in the hands of brutal occupiers, the Royal Family was able to find refuge in Canada. Indeed, her Royal Highness was born in our nation's capital. Your Royal Family was safe, an ocean way. A symbol of hope and defiance was assured. And a friendship between our two nations was born.

It is a friendship forged in the darkest hour of the 20th Century. A time when evil dominated this continent. When hatred ruled. And when the fate of the world stood in the balance.

It was a time of terror and evil. But also a time of great courage and sacrifice.

Today we honour that courage and sacrifice. Of all those who fought for freedom. Of those Canadians buried here and in cemeteries across Europe. Of those who have made the long journey back and are with us today.

The history books tell us the cold, impersonal statistics of war.

That more than 40,000 Canadians were killed in World War II. That more than 7,000 Canadians died in the liberation of Holland. That more than 2,300 Canadians are buried here.

The history books will tell you these statistics. But they don't tell you what it was like to fight in the cold, wet winter lowlands of this country, against an enemy making a last, desperate stand.

They don't tell you what was in the heart and mind of Aubrey Cosens, on the night of February 25, 1945. The night he ran through a hail of machine gun fire to charge three enemy strong points, totally on his own. The night he was shot dead by an enemy sniper.

Aubrey Cosens was 24 years old. He never got to go home to Latchford, Ontario. At the age when most people are beginning their lives, his life ended. In death, he was awarded the Victoria Cross for what he did than night. He lies here in Groesbeek.

The history books don't tell you what it was like to be wounded -- or decorated by a foreign country.

Jean-Charles Forbes from Matane, Quebec, became a lieutenant and platoon commander with the RJgiment de Maisonneuve. In Groesbeek he was wounded in the right eye by shrapnel.

Wilford Kirk of Langenburg, Saskatchewan, of the Queens Own Cameron Highlanders, was wounded four times.

Both men received the Netherlands' highest decoration for valour.

They are only two surviving Canadian recipients. And they are with us today.

The history books don't tell you what it is like to lose a father. Or a son. Or a husband. Or a brother.

The Halikowski family of Saskatchewan knows what that is like. Four brothers enlisted. John was killed in France.

His brother Joe was killed over Germany while serving in the Air Force and lies here at Groesbeek.

Their brother Edward Halikowski also served here in the Netherlands. He is with us today.

The history books can't tell you any of these things. Not really. Words and dates and maps can't measure pain. They can't measure sacrifice. They can't measure loss.

But the legacy of those Canadians who fought here is not found in history books.

It is found in the smile of a Dutch child who lives a free decent life today because of what these brave men did half a century ago.

In the gratitude of those who were here then. In the warmth with which we have been received in this country.

It is found in Canada too.

In school yards, in the laughter of children who can live free from fear or suffering.

In our cities and towns, where people can build decent lives for themselves and their families.

In our churches and synagogues, where we can worship as we choose.

In our streets and libraries and legislatures - where people can speak, can write, can read ... in freedom.

In the lives of my generation and our children's generation - who have never had to experience the horror of war.

This legacy is found in the letter of young woman in Montreal. She wrote:

"I am a first generation Canadian of Dutch parents who survived the war and the occupation of Holland... It was 50 years ago that my starving parents were given bread by the Canadian soldiers who had come to liberate them from tyranny and oppression. To me, this simple act of kindness symbolizes all that makes me proud to be Canadian in a world where for many, freedom is a luxury....The tulips that we plant each year are our small gesture of remembrance and thanks towards a nation whose shores have given my family and millions of others the opportunity to prosper in health and security."

These simple, heartfelt words are the true legacy of those Canadians who lie here and in cemeteries across this continent. Of their comrades who came home. Of those who have returned fifty years later.

And we say, thank you.

You gave us the chance to build a better country. You gave us the chance to live in peace. To grow and prosper. To create a society based on tolerance and sharing. On understanding and freedom.

Your legacy is fifty years of peace and stability.

Your legacy is a proud, independent country that went from infancy to adulthood in the crucible of war. That now takes its place at the front ranks of the community of nations - and plays an important role on the world stage.

Your legacy is a land of peace and opportunity that has opened its arms to people from around the world. People who have made us stronger and better.

Your legacy is nothing less than the Canada of today. What we have today, we have because of what you did half a century ago.

We will continue to build a society that is worthy of your sacrifice.

A society based on freedom and opportunity and tolerance. A society that is free of hate and fear and tyranny. A society that is the envy of the world.

We will continue the work you started.

And we will not let you down.