I want to start off by thanking the member for Whitby for bringing this bill forward and all the colleagues that helped support the member from Whitby to make this a success here.

I want to thank and I want to recognize all veterans and all servicepersons that are serving today or have served our country, but today I’m going to spend some time speaking about two veterans that I know in the London area. I want to talk about their lives and their contributions under Bill 65, the Honouring Our Veterans Act, in this Legislature.

The first veteran I want to speak about is Corporal George Hebert Beardshaw. Born September 14, 1923, in the coal-mining town of Doncaster, Yorkshire, England, he was the fourth child of five, born to a single mother. George knows very little about his father, just that he had a family elsewhere. He believes that the police had made his father return to his first family, causing the family breakdown. Young George was sent away to live with his Aunt May. He retained no memory of his mother and memories of his aunt are of heavy drinking habits. He says, “She could drink 10 men under the table.” Of his siblings, he only remembered two older brothers, Charles and John.

At the age of six, he was sent to the Barnardo Homes. George remembers Barnardo’s as being a very strict home, where boys were thoroughly punished for small things. Alone at first, George was left to difficult tasks of fending for himself among the other boys. Charlie and John, who initially boarded out, came to live in the same cottage as George and protected him from the other boys. Although many of the children were educated out in the community, George was sent to the school inside Barnardo’s. John was sent to Canada through Barnardo’s in 1932 at the age of 15 and Charlie was boarded out once again, leaving George alone. In 1938, George was also sent to Canada.

He had been in school when the Barnardo Homes inspector came in and said, “How many of you want to go to Canada?” Fourteen-year-old George, wanting to get out of the Barnardo Homes, stuck his hand up. He looked forward to the excitement of an ocean voyage and to becoming a cowboy. Nobody ever explained to him what going to Canada really meant. George, knowing his brother was in Canada already and believing his mother was dead, looked forward to a new life that was being offered.

George was seasick on the voyage, but otherwise enjoyed the trip. They were treated well and could eat whatever they wanted. In his box, he was allowed to bring a box camera, clothing and a crystal set. From Quebec, they took a train into Toronto, and they stayed at the Jarvis Street receiving home for three days. Barnardo’s took the children on a trip to the Toronto Island.

The boys were given a list of about 200 farmers who were looking for farm help. On that list, he saw a Mr. Payne who was located in Little Britain. George thought, since he came from Great Britain he would go to Little Britain, and thus his placement was chosen. George was transported to the farm just outside of Lindsay, Ontario, by train. Mr. Payne picked him up from the train in a 1929 Chevy.

George stood out from the neighbourhood children, who often came to see him, to hear him speak and see his different clothing. He got used to stepping in cow dung and although he had never seen cows before, he soon got used to cleaning it up.

Mr. Payne was “ahhhh alright,” in George’s words. Mr. Payne told George he was too smart for his own good. George was worked very hard and felt he could run rings around him work-wise. George was to earn $3 a month and was told by Mr. Payne many times that he was not worth it. His pay was put into an account held by the Barnardo offices from which was deducted items for his care such as clothing and his straw hats needed. Barnardo’s held his money on account, and he did eventually receive it. George lived a very isolated and restrictive life. He was there to work. Simple activities such as going to a movie were not allowed. Indentured to Mr. Payne for five years, George often ran away. Barnardo’s told him that he could not leave Mr. Payne and that he had to stay there.

One morning, George, weary of the harsh life, had been up ahead of Mr. Payne. He had milked his three cows and by the time Mr. Payne arrived for work, George had started milking his. George remarked that the cow wasn’t giving as much milk as before, to which the farmer replied, “If you kept your mouth shut, she’d likely give more.” Well, George just stared at him, thinking he’d had about enough. Now was his opportunity to get out of there. He scared the cats away, took the milking pail and set it against the wall. Mr. Payne asked George where he was going, and he told him that he couldn’t take this treatment anymore and he was leaving him.

Fed up, George went into the house, where Mrs. Payne was making breakfast. She asked, “George, did you get your chores done already?” “Yup,” he replied, “about all I’m going to do.” “You didn’t leave Will down there all alone to do the chores, did you?” George told her that he didn’t care when she told him that they would be unable to obtain another hired man if he left them. “After all we have done for you?” she replied. “You’ve done nothing for me but work my” blank “off! One of these days, I will be leaving,” he responded. “One of these days, the farm will be yours,” she pleaded. “I don’t want your” darn “farm,” were George’s final words to the Paynes. He left, walked down the road and hitched a ride to Delhi. Although his brother John was also in Canada, George did not see him for at least two years. John was placed in Delhi, and that is where George headed. Once in Delhi, he was able to obtain a job working on a tobacco farm. Barnardo’s did try to get him to return to the Paynes, but George was determined he was not going back.

In February 1944, he went to Toronto to join the air force. He was told that because he did not have enough education, he would work as a grease monkey. George wanted to go overseas to see his family. He knew by this time his brother Charlie had found their mother. Although she had never bothered with him all his life, George, now 19 years old, still wanted to see her and join the army as a means to get back to England.

Once overseas, he obtained three days’ leave and arrived at her door, unannounced. Although his grandparents said they were proud of him and that he looked sharp in his uniform, it was like going into a stranger’s home. His mother was very quiet. George avoided discussing why she had given them up. He just wanted to meet his family. He was proud to be a Canadian soldier. George served with the Queen’s Own Rifles, reaching corporal status with the 8th platoon. While serving in action near the end of the war, he was taken prisoner of war in Deventer, Holland. After a bit of a shemozzle, Beardshaw was captured and spent the final 28 days of the war as a prisoner of war. That was, George said, “another fine mess.”

George settled in London, Ontario, where he lived with his pretty wife, Emma. George and Emma did not have children of their own but enjoyed a good relationship with his brother’s children. Charlie had come to Canada in 1953, married, had two children. Tragically, just after his 41st birthday, he was killed in an automobile accident. George and Emma helped the family out a great deal after the loss of their father.

One of George’s keepsakes from the war is the handkerchief which he was given by the Red Cross after his capture in Holland. The names of fellow prisoners of war are written on it, including the names of his captured platoon, in the top right-hand corner. George framed it proudly and shows it off to visitors.

George is glad he came to Canada. Despite his struggles on the farm, he is proud and grateful to be Canadian.

George was the special guest speaker on July 28, 2014, when the British Home Child Advocacy and Research Association held a special commemoration service to honour the British home children who served and died in the First World War. At the end of his address, he lifted his fist into the air and declared, “I love Canada.”

George is one of our last two surviving pre-1940 British home children and our last home child surviving who has served.

George, as I said earlier, was born on September 14, 1923. He celebrated his 100th birthday this September. I wanted to read George’s biography into the record because we are here today to honour our veterans. We’re honouring everyone, but specifically, I wanted to talk about George.

The next veteran I wanted to honour was Frank Davis, WOSA, Victory Branch RCL 317. He goes by Tex. He’s a poem writer, and I would like to read this poem to honour Frank Davis, our veteran:

O Canada it makes me proud to stand on guard for thee

When I see a farmer take a break in the shade of a maple tree

Or to see the wheat field’s gentle wave

When kissed by the prairie breeze

To watch the fishing boats return back home to port

With their bounty from the sea

Now Newfoundland and Labrador with its rugged coast is something to behold

When the morning sun first rises there

It turns the sky to a hue of gold

Now Nova Scotia with its beauty makes us all swell up with pride

To see the Blue Nose sail and walk the Cabot trail

Or watch the Fundy tide

You may boast of Prince Edward Island although it’s very small

Just like a jewel upon the sea

It’s there for one and all

Now New Brunswick has its pulp and wood industry

That keeps our nation strong

Great salmon streams where fishermen dream

Like the Miramichi and the great St. John

Quebec has its beauty and culture of its own

Where seven million francophones are proud to call it home

Ontario has its Great Lakes and industries large and small

And scenery that will take your breath away like the famous Niagara Falls

Then it’s on to Manitoba, our gateway to the west

And anyone who walks its soil will tell you it’s the best

Saskatchewan with its wheat fields and the hungry world to feed

Alberta has cattle, foothills and the great Calgary Stampede

British Columbia has its mountains and valleys far and wide

And miles of rugged coast to kiss the Pacific tide

The territories has its tundra and herds of caribou

What a great land, with God’s great hand, has made for me and you

But our real strength is in our people

That covers this land from sea to sea

I will say again O Canada, I am proud to stand on guard for thee.

That was veteran Frank Davis, and he goes by Tex.

These are two very special men in London that I see regularly. I wanted to pay tribute to them under the act of honouring our veterans.

We have all stood here today and talked about how remembering is so important and how our actions reflect our loyalty to remembering our veterans who fought in this war, in many wars. There are still many conflicts, far too many today. We should have learned from the past and not continued these kinds of wars and conflicts that are happening all over the world today.

I just wanted again to thank the member from Whitby for bringing this forward and for all the members who have contributed debate in honouring our veterans and honouring the fact that we will remember them.

I would like to begin by thanking the member from Whitby, who brought this bill forward. I think it’s very important that we will be taking an additional moment of silence next week before the Legislature breaks up.

I also want to say how important it’s been to have this debate, because it’s an opportunity to learn. We’ve heard from many people who have had, I will say, much more direct experience than I have had, and I’m learning from this, and I appreciate that opportunity, so I thank the member also for providing that opportunity.

My uncle, who would have been 98 if he were still alive, served in the Second World War, but when he came back, he wouldn’t talk about it at all. We heard the member from Guelph make a similar reference earlier.

I know that my mother missed him enormously, that that was one of the effects of people going away to war, the people left behind. He came back alive, but she has never stopped talking about how much she missed having her older brother with her in a formative time in her life. And she still talks about how much she misses him and how important he was. I learned nothing, really, about his experience and just learned a little bit from her.

So then I think about the importance of the teaching that happens in schools. And I will say, I did not learn that much in my time in school—not enough that it really made a deep impression on me. But, over time, I have come to understand and respect and feel the need and the importance of honouring the people who have gone to war on our behalf.

And I think also of how important the work is that is being done in schools, and I do see it happening in schools. I know of school classes that write letters to veterans, for example. It is a way, again, to bring some reality to a day that perhaps the children don’t have direct experience of. Now, there are many refugee children in our schools, and they do have direct experience.

In my role as MPP, I have had the opportunity to meet veterans and also to meet Indigenous veterans throughout the community. Those Indigenous veterans are still very much leaders in their communities, and I want to thank them for their service—something that wasn’t really acknowledged at the time. They were left out of the benefits that were provided to other veterans when they came back. So I must say, I’m even more grateful for the work that those veterans are doing in their communities because they continue to serve in spite of not having received the kind of acknowledgement that they should have.

I also want to acknowledge that there have been recent deaths, and there was a recent death in the last few years of somebody who grew up in Thunder Bay. His name is Anthony Joseph Boneca. He was a reservist from the Lake Superior Scottish Regiment, which is based in Thunder Bay. At the age of 21, he was killed in a fire fight in Afghanistan. I know that people in the community mourned his loss deeply, and I also know that, in a sad way, his death brought home the work of people who go to fight on our behalf and made it real.

I’ve also walked into Superior View high school—I was actually there to look at their tech school, what’s going on there. I walked into a room and discovered photographs all around the room of young men just barely older than these high school students, and these were all men from Thunder Bay and the region who signed up. It was, again, a very moving moment to look at those pictures and realize that many of them did not come home—but that they were there for the students also, to make that connection, and make that connection real, so that they could understand on a deeper level the ceremonies that we attend, but to take it beyond the ceremony to some understanding.

I will just close by acknowledging the work of the Legions. I think we have at least four in Thunder Bay, and those Legions are places where men and women work together. They provide a safe social space, they do charity work, they do fundraising, they have a good time, but it’s all volunteer work and it also creates the safe space for people to be veterans.

I must say, it was another lesson for me—walking in with my ball cap on and learning that’s disrespectful. Being asked to take off that cap is always a reminder of the seriousness of where we are.

There are three ceremonies that take place in Thunder Bay. One at the Waverley monument, and it’s a beautiful ceremony; there’s one at Fort William Gardens, also a beautiful ceremony; and one in Fort William reserve, on Anemki Wajiw, which is the name of the mountain, and that is also a very special ceremony. In each case, there are pipes and drummers, and there will be a trumpet playing.

I appreciate everything that people do. Without the Legions, we would not have these ceremonies; they organize everything, so I want to pay tribute to them, as well.

Thank you again to the member. I know that we all support this bill and thank you.