National War Memorial

Stand still for a moment and listen. Traffic circles around you on all sides, buses brake, a bicycle bell rings somewhere near the canal. Yet in the middle of all this movement, a tall arch of pale grey granite holds a crowd of bronze figures that never move at all. They lean forward together, pushing through the arch, as if the city had paused to let them pass.

This is the National War Memorial, in the heart of Confederation Square in Ottawa. Parliament Hill rises just to the north. The turrets of the Château Laurier hotel stand to the east, and the Rideau Canal runs below. The location is no accident. The memorial sits at the meeting point of government, commerce and daily life, so Canadians cannot easily walk past it without noticing.

The official name of the sculpture is The Response. That word carries the central idea. The figures show Canadians answering the call of the First World War. They are not shown in the middle of battle. Instead, they are moving forward through the arch, from war toward peace. It is a scene of departure and of duty, rather than a scene of victory.

Count the bronze figures if you have time. There are twenty-two of them. Infantrymen march with rifles. Gunners haul a heavy field gun. Cavalry horses push through the crowd. Look closely and you will also find a pilot, sailors, and nurses. The sculptor wanted to show that the war involved many kinds of service, not only soldiers in the trenches.

Here is a story that many visitors never hear. The design came from an English sculptor named Vernon March, who won an international competition in the 1920s. But March died in 1930, before the work was finished. His brothers and sister, also artists, completed the sculpture in their family studio in England. The bronze figures were then shipped across the Atlantic and assembled here, under the Ottawa sky.

Now lift your eyes to the very top of the arch. Two winged figures stand there, above the crowd. They represent Peace and Freedom. Their placement matters. The soldiers below are still on the move, still carrying the weight of war. The two winged figures stand above them, as the goal of that long march.

The memorial was unveiled in May 1939 by King George the Sixth, during the first visit of a reigning British monarch to Canada. Thousands of people gathered in the square. There is a hard irony in that date. Only a few months later, the Second World War began, and a new generation of Canadians answered the same call the bronze figures show.

Over the decades, the meaning of the monument has grown. It was first built to honour those who served in the First World War. In 1982 it was rededicated to include the Second World War and the Korean War. Later, the South African War and the mission in Afghanistan were added. Today the memorial honours all Canadians who have served in conflict, past and present.

Now look down, to the low stone tomb in front of the arch. This is the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier, added in 2000. It holds the remains of a Canadian soldier from the First World War. His name is unknown. He was brought home from a war cemetery in France, near Vimy Ridge, a battle that holds a special place in Canadian memory. He stands for every Canadian whose body was never identified.

Here is a second detail that surprises many visitors. On Remembrance Day, the eleventh of November, the official ceremony ends, and then something unplanned happens. People line up quietly and place their red poppy pins on the tomb. No one ordered this tradition. It began with ordinary visitors, and now the granite slab becomes covered in red each year.

In the warmer months, you may see soldiers of the ceremonial guard standing sentry beside the tomb. Their stillness is part of the tribute. This place also carries a recent wound. In October 2014, a young reservist, Corporal Nathan Cirillo, was shot and killed while standing guard here. Many people now think of him when they see the sentries in position.

Take a slow walk around the whole monument before you leave. From the south, the figures seem to march straight toward Parliament. From the north, the arch frames the hotel and the open sky beyond. Notice how the granite changes colour with the weather. On grey days it looks almost silver. In evening light it turns warm. The bronze has darkened with age, but the hands and helmets show the most wear.

If you want a place to sit and reflect, the nearby paths along the canal are usually quieter than the square. Close by, you can also find the Valiants Memorial, a group of busts and statues of individual Canadians from many centuries of military history. Together, the two sites tell one story from two directions: the great crowd, and the single person.

Before you walk on, look once more at the figures in the arch. They are frozen mid-step, always about to arrive. Around them, the city keeps moving: buses, office workers, tourists with cameras. Perhaps that contrast is the point. The memorial asks nothing from you except a moment of attention... and then it lets you go back into the life that those figures walked away from.