10 years later, the bystanders who rushed to a fallen soldier's aid and the tragedy that changed them

The crisp autumn air that signals falling leaves brings with it a rush of memories for Martin Magnan.

"It gives me a chill. I'm not afraid, but it's not comfortable," Magnan said in French in an interview with Radio-Canada. "The first time it gets cold with the wind, it's a clear reminder."

Magnan, then a press secretary with Veterans Affairs, was passing the National War Memorial on the morning of Oct. 22, 2014, when he heard gunshots. He rushed to the side of a fallen Cpl. Nathan Cirillo, who'd been mortally wounded as he stood sentry.

"In my head, all I heard was: React, let's go!" Magnan recalled.

He remembers holding Cirillo's hand and being instructed to raise the soldier's legs as he and other bystanders struggled to resuscitate him.

"The moments got longer and time folded on itself," said Magnan, who also recalled feeling an intense cold in that moment.

It would take years for him to understand the full impact that the events of that morning had on him.

"I felt lost for a long time. I was experiencing the after-effects without even realizing it," he said. "I wouldn't sleep for long periods. I would walk for the entire night. One morning, I woke up in a park.

"I no longer had the strength or the means to manage my personal life."

In interviews in the years following the attack, Magnan said he speaks to Cirillo whenever he passes by the monument, and regularly visits the site on his walk to work or during lunch.  

"I feel good here. It's like being in my backyard," he said of the towering monument and tree-ringed plaza in the heart of Ottawa's downtown.

Magnan said he still has some healing to do.

"I hope that moment made me a better person now. I'm much more understanding that everyone has their experiences and everyone lives with their grief," he said. "We're all on a healing journey to be better people and move past our problems."

A photo of Magnan and the other bystanders who rushed to Cirillo's side sits on Margaret Lehre's desk in her Ottawa home, a reminder of a "very significant day" in her life.