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‘That others may live’: Families remember fallen search-and-rescue techs

Nov 11, 2016 | 2:15 AM

OTTAWA — Liz Quinn struggles to hold back tears as she recites the oath taken by all military search-and-rescue technicians, which ends: “That others may live.” For her, the oath is more than just words. It is a reminder of her late son, Sgt. Mark Salesse.

“He devoted his life and he continually trained to make sure that his skills were up to par so that any given incident or accident that he was able to go in and save someone,” Quinn says, her voice barely above a whisper.

“I know that when he made the pledge, that it was serious. Every SAR tech that says that pledge means every word of that. That’s his soul.”

Salesse was killed in an avalanche while on a training exercise in Banff National Park on Feb. 5, 2015. The 44-year-old New Brunswick native was the 13th military search-and-rescue technician, or SAR tech, to be killed on duty since 1947 and the third in the last decade.

Today, on Remembrance Day, people across the country will pause to reflect on the Canadians who fought and died on the battlefields of Europe and Korea or served on missions in places like in Iraq and Afghanistan.

But Quinn hopes they will also take a moment to think about the military’s SAR techs, those chosen few like her son who put their lives on the line every day at home.

“I would like Canadians to remember the Canadian Armed Forces search and rescue in their prayers and in their thoughts on Remembrance Day alongside the soldier that wears the camouflage or has served in Afghanistan,” Quinn says. “They are Canadian soldiers. They put their lives at risk every day.”

The Canadian Forces has 150 SAR techs across the country whose sole job is to go into often-risky environments to rescue Canadians in distress. That includes parachuting or rappelling into remote areas such as mountains, the high Arctic or one of Canada’s three oceans to respond to plane crashes and sinking ships.

The federal government ordered the military to start conducting search-and-rescue operations in 1947. Chief Warrant Officer Greg Smit, the military’s top SAR tech, suggests that makes it Canada’s longest domestic military mission.

“And my SAR techs, you could argue, are deployed for 10 or 15 years straight,” he says. “Because they don’t typically get long periods of rest. And this is a challenge.”

Smit says his men and women see tragedy often when responding to plane crashes and other emergencies. But what sustains them are the successes. He recalls sitting in the back of a helicopter a few years ago, after saving four people from their sinking sailboat.

“We were just exhausted and they were as well,” Smit says. “But the skipper knew that he’d nearly lost his life and he just looked over at me and looked me in the eyes and sort of mouthed those words: ‘Thank you.’ And that just carries you over the tough times, even when you lose brothers.”

Smit says his men and women aren’t “risk junkies” and they don’t seek attention. They’re a tight-knit group who enjoy difficult challenges and have dedicated themselves to helping others. And they understand that peace and security come at a cost, both at home and abroad.

The government receives about 10,000 distress calls a year, Smit says. The majority are handled by the provinces or territories, with police and volunteers tasked with responding. That leaves about 750 for the military.

“Inevitably what happens is we tend to be the rescuers of last resort,” Smit says. “When no one else can do it. When the weather is at its most extreme. When the terrain is difficult. That’s quite often when the Canadian Forces gets involved.”

Such was the case on Oct. 27, 2011 when a distress call came in from the remote community of Igoolik in Nunavut where two Inuit hunters had become stranded in stormy conditions off the coast of Baffin Island.

What followed was a harrowing rescue that would claim the life of 35-year-old Sgt. Janick Gilbert after he and two other SAR techs were forced to parachute into the icy Arctic waters to save the two hunters.

The Quebec City native, who was awarded the Star of Courage posthumously, left behind a wife and two young children. Melisa Lesquir says the fifth anniversary of her husband’s death this year was particularly difficult on the family, with “lots of emotions in the air.” Like Quinn, she hopes Canadians will think about the SAR techs on Remembrance Day.

“It’s a small group and they are very dedicated,” she says. “They don’t get as much attention as those who serve abroad on missions. But they are here on Canadian soil saving the lives of our people.”

— Follow @leeberthiaume on Twitter

Lee Berthiaume, The Canadian Press