It’s a time to remember dead of Korean War

378 Canadians buried overseas, says Andrew Burtch

On the Mackenzie King bridge, near Confederation Park, there is a bronze statue of an unarmed Canadian soldier standing with two Korean children. The Monument to Canadian Fallen, designed by Vincent Courtenay, a Canadian veteran of the Korean War, and made by Korean artist Young Mun Yoo in 2002, is inscribed with the names of 516 Canadians who died in the Korean War. Many pass by the monument every day.

Most have no idea that an identical monument stands nearly 11,000 kilometres away, in the United Nations Memorial Cemetery in Busan, South Korea, among the headstones of the 378 Canadians buried in Korea. The two memorial statues face one another, over a continent and an ocean, bound by solemn remembrance.

This year marked the 65th anniversary of the armistice that ended the Korean War. Beginning on June 25, 1950 when North Korean forces invaded South Korea, the war ended with an armistice, if not a peace, on July 27, 1953. More than 26,000 Canadians served in Korea. In 1950, they rushed to enlist, a mix of young men too young to serve in the Second World War, and veterans of the last war who desired a return to military life.

In the early months of the war, North Korean forces swept over and nearly overwhelmed the surprised South Koreans and American defenders before the audacious September 1950 Inchon landing, and an early UN victory appeared in reach before the surprise entry of Chinese troops into the conflict. Headlines announced the first Canadian troops’ arrival in the front lines just as the UN launched its counter-offensives, and the Canadians’ dramatic defence of Kap’yong in April 1951.

But as armistice talks began and the conflict dragged on, public attention turned away from developments in far-off Korea and returned to domestic concerns. And yet, Canadian families at home still received the dreaded notification that their loved ones were wounded or dead. Amid grief and mourning, families of the dead appealed to military authorities to bring their loved ones home.

While the United States had made an early decision to repatriate the remains of their deceased, Canada and other Commonwealth countries decided to bury the bodies of the fallen soldiers overseas. This decision came as a shock to some families. Pte. Joseph Laurent Bourdeau was not yet 20 when a Chinese shell hit his trench, killing him instantly on Sept. 6, 1952. Bourdeau’s mother wrote a heartbreaking letter to his regiment’s chaplain: “I want to have his body … send him by airplane right away, I want it … try to take me in pity, I want it or else I will go and get it even if I get killed, I want it or else I will become crazy.” The military was sympathetic, but Bourdeau remained in Korea.

Matters were worse for the families of those whose bodies were never recovered from the battlefield. Sixteen Canadians went missing in Korea during the war. Another five were lost at sea. Their families did not receive the scant comfort of knowing where their burial grounds were, even if they could not visit themselves.

Most are buried overseas in the cemeteries: 378 in Korea, 26 in Japan, and the remainder either with no known grave or buried in Canada. These last casualties resulted from traffic and rail accidents, suicide and natural causes before or after deploying to Korea.

The Monument to the Fallen, on the Mackenzie King bridge, stands for them all. Though the message may be lost to the busy traffic on ordinary days, if you pass the monument, take a moment and consider the service of all the Canadians who served the cause of peace in the first hot war of the Cold War. Consider their families, and the grieving who never had a proper chance to say goodbye.

Canada and other Commonwealth countries decided to bury the bodies of the fallen soldiers overseas. This decision came as a shock to some families.