Pte Alexandre Peloquin departs Kandahar enroute to the Highway of Heroes and home. May God Bless him and keep him safe in heaven.
Repatriation of any soldier is a sad event, not only for his brothers and sisters who remain in theatre , to continue their tours of Duty. But indeed for family and friends who await the Flag draped casket at CFB Trenton. Then begins the journey along the 104 Kilometeres of the Highway of Heroes. Pte. Alexandre Peloquin, is the soldier returning today.
The military term Stand Down is given to soldiers at the end of their working day and is meant for them to rest before starting all over again. The final Stand Down is for soldiers who have paid the ultimate price, and will never again be called for Duty. This description of the Stand Down at CFB Trenton was sent to me by a fellow Veteran. Ed Oursien of Miramachi NB.
Well done young soldier and Thankyou for your devotion to Duty and to Canada. You will be sorely missed and Never Forgotten.
BROWNSBURG-CHATHAM, Que. - The family of the most recent Canadian soldier to lose his life in Afghanistan says his death was not in vain. It's obviously with deep sadness that we greeted the news yesterday (Monday) of our son Alexandre's death, said a statement issued through the Canadian Forces on Tuesday by the family of Pte. Alexandre (Pelo) Peloquin, 20.
He was passionate about life and his life in the military. We find a certain comfort knowing he did not die in vain because he was doing what he loved.
In your short life, Alexandre, we had the distinguished honour of being at your side and seeing you grow. Your devotion is no doubt the greatest memory that people who knew you and loved you will cherish the most. All these little moments in life will remain engraved in our memory forever. Love Mamma, Papa
This brings it home to us!
Stand down, Soldier
There is a banner someone brings to the fence of Canadian Forces Base Trenton whenever there is a repatriation of a soldier killed in Afghanistan. It reads: Stand down, soldier. Your job is done. You can go home.
People line up along the fence surrounding CFB Trenton waiting for the aircraft from Afghanistan to touch down, open its cargo door, and offer up its burden. Some of the onlookers are civilians, some are retired service men and women, some are on leave from active service and dress in uniform for the occasion. Some of them even bring young children. There's a large contingent of bikers, the Blue Knights, wearing distinctive blue vests. One couple is visiting from Nova Scotia. Another man has just come home from Europe. The gathering spreads farther and farther along the fence. Soon, a drone is heard overhead and the CC-150 Polaris transport plane comes into view. A hush falls over the people standing at the fence. The aircraft circles into position near the hangar where a family stands in the wind and cold to receive their loved one. The silhouettes, especially the shoulders, speak of their exquisite pain. Their eyes are fixed on the wooden box that is now being hoisted onto strong shoulders and carried in measured steps toward the hearse. The only colour in the whole scenario is the Canadian flag draped in its somber duty like a blanket over the fallen comrade. It seems to speak the words from the banner: Stand down, soldier. Your job is done. You can go home. After a 20-minute repatriation service, the casket is loaded into the black hearse. The family members board a limousine. Slowly the convoy exits the gates of 8 Wing-Canadian Forces Base Trenton. The black vehicles are escorted front and back by two police cars as they drive out of Trenton and onto the celebrated Highway of Heroes. A signal is sent to a police car waiting on the ramp of the next overpass along the way to Toronto: Cortege en route. ETA 15 minutes. Messages are radioed to the firefighters and ambulance workers in commuter parking lots all along the way to Toronto who have been anticipating the final good-bye. Each firetruck and ambulance rides to the top of its respective overpass where the crowd welcomes the shelter from the wind. The police car drives down the ramp to block traffic from entering Highway 401. The crowd on the overpass is watching for that space of several minutes when there is no traffic in the westbound lanes. Then a whisper is telegraphed from one person to another: They're coming. They're coming. By this time, not one space is left unoccupied along the railing. I stand on the side of the hill by the sign that welcomes drivers to Brighton. I want to be as near as possible to the cortege. My student will be passing by. His sister, also a former student at my school, will be sitting in the limo with her mom and dad behind the dark glass. The last time I saw these siblings they were sitting innocently in a classroom. On my one side is a member of the Legion, a retired Sergeant-major dressed in khaki. He is the first to sight the cortege and barks instinctively, Heads up! to everyone on the overpass.
I am frozen in place, steeling myself against an onslaught of emotion, tears burning behind my glasses. The Sergeant-major snaps a salute and, even though he is a complete stranger, I feel supported by his experience and professionalism. Behind me, the people who have come to the overpass for just this moment wave their flags. The dark glass of the limo opens and a long arm in a black coat ending in a black glove answers in silent acknowledgment.
In less than a moment the cortege is gone. Only now do I notice how many young people have also been standing vigils at the overpass. They look to me like students skipping school. Who are all these other people? Does each of them have a connection, as I do, to the fallen soldier? Some of them are relaying messages by cell phone -- to other overpasses down the line. Are all the on-lookers on all the overpasses along the Highway of Heroes connected, like a web that stretches from Trenton to Toronto cradling the casket of the fallen at its centre? What a strange experience our presence creates. A unique made-in-Canada ad hoc ritual that leaves participants feeling richer, and sadder, and more connected for having spent this one moment in the wind. Patricia Calder Colborne
Please show your support for Canada's Troops and for all the members of Canada's Invisible Army at home.
Nil Sine Labore
Robby
Rest in peace.
