Mr MARLES (Corio—Deputy Leader of the Opposition) (13:00): Ian McBeth, in his mid-40s, had been a C-130 Hercules pilot all his working life in the military, in the Wyoming Air National Guard and later in the Montana Air National Guard. As an experienced Hercules pilot, he was a qualified instructor and a qualified evaluator pilot. In recent times he'd been flying a modified C-130 Hercules with Coulson Aviation, fighting fires. For anyone who knew Ian, he was a man completely devoted to his family. Along with the member for Macquarie, a few weeks ago I visited the firebombers at RAAF Base Richmond. We spoke to another pilot, also an American, who was flying a modified 737. I asked him what it was like to engage in that kind of flying. He said the trick was to fly as low and as slow as possible—just 250 kilometres per hour, just 50 metres above the ground. That's amazing flying. I said, 'At that level, you must in some way experience the fire.' He said, 'Not the heat so much, but certainly the smoke impacts visibility.' Fires create their own microclimates and their own winds, and those winds will buffet the plane. This is not a smooth flight at 50 metres. It's bumpy. There's turbulence. As the plane dumps its retardant, in a matter of just a few seconds it will experience a radical change in its power-to-weight ratio, which means the pilot has to in turn manage a dramatic shift in the plane's performance. This is astonishing flying and yet it makes such an incredible difference. To be able to draw a line right across the front of the fire, to stop it in its tracks, has saved lives. It saved countless homes. It saved the Wollemi pines. Compared even to the Black Saturday bushfires 11 years ago, it represents a game changer in our ability to fight fires today. But with this great impact comes great danger, because this is really risky flying. That danger was given its full expression on 23 January, when Ian McBeth and his co-pilots, Paul Hudson and Rick DeMorgan Jr, lost their lives when their C-130 Hercules crashed at Peak View, fighting a fire in the Snowy Monaro area. Right now in Great Falls, Montana, halfway across the world, the full loss wrought by the Australian bushfires is being felt with a searing acuteness, in a way none of us would want to contemplate, by Ian's wife, Bowdie; and his three children, Abigail, Calvin and Ella. Ian's sacrifice stands alongside that of eight others who lost their lives going to fight the fires. These are people who were not in the way of the fire but went to fight the fires to help others. That is actually a much larger number of firefighters who died even compared to Black Saturday. Their sacrifice in turn speaks to the service of tens of thousands of Australians—volunteers; paid firefighters; emergency service workers; park rangers; surf life savers; members of the Australian Defence Force and its reserves; along with 350 members of other defence forces around the world, from six other countries, who came to help, and other firefighters from around the world who came to help. In one form or another, these people have been fighting fires since September of last year. When you compare this event to the great bushfires of our nation's history, it's really clear that they're responsible for saving the lives of hundreds; the homes of thousands; and, with them, livelihoods, memories and the personal treasures that lie within. And so our nation truly does owe these people an enormous debt of gratitude. And yet the human toll has been boundless: 33 lives lost, almost 3,000 homes destroyed. Economies—particularly the tourist economies involving small businesses in fire-affected areas in Queensland, up and down the New South Wales coast, in the Blue Mountains, in Gippsland, in parts of Tasmania, on Kangaroo Island, in the Adelaide hills, in parts of WA and the Northern Territory and, just recently, here in Canberra—have been ravaged, and the pain that is being experienced in these communities is profound and it is fundamental. In Cobargo, in the Bega Valley, Robert and Patrick Salway, father and son, died as they tried to defend their property in the face of an utterly horrifying fire. Heartbreakingly, after the fire had passed, it was Robert's wife who found them. Dozens of homes were lost in Cobargo alone. The main street of Cobargo was devastated. Pictures of it remind one more of a war zone. The impact of these fires on the people of Cobargo is really unimaginable. And yet in other ways—to be sure, lesser ways—the bushfires have been experienced by millions of Australians. Over the last couple of months in Melbourne there have been nine smoke days. In Brisbane there have been 20. In Sydney there have been 28. Here in Canberra there have been 49. These are days on which the air quality has been rated between 'poor' and 'hazardous'. There's a lot of fear about the smoke and what its long-term impact might be, and it's important that we do the research to understand that, but one matter is really clear: if you can't see down the end of your road because of smoke; if kids are being kept home from school; if the outdoor lifestyle which so characterises us as a nation, particularly over the summer months, is being brought to a halt; then this smoke, at least by reference to our past, is certainly not business as usual. And the smoke is the most palpable sign of what has been an ecological catastrophe. These fires have burnt vast swathes of our nation. And, yes, fire is a natural part of the Australian landscape. It clears away the undergrowth. There are certain species of trees which require it for germination. But when the frequency of fires is such that it's actually small sapling trees which are being burnt to the ground or when the fire burns so hot that the adult tree itself dies then we're actually talking about ecological change which is permanent. It's been estimated that up to 100 species of wildlife will have been endangered by these fires. For some of them, these fires may ultimately prove to actually be an extinction event. And the vast scale of these fires is simply astonishing. Compared to the 2018 California wildfires, the largest in that state's history, where 62,000 hectares were burnt, or the Black Saturday bushfires, where 450,000 hectares were burnt, or even last year's Amazon rainforest fire, where 906,000 hectares were burnt, since September across the country we've seen 17 million hectares burnt. Indeed, the Gospers Mountain fire last year is believed to be the single biggest fire caused by one ignition source, in this case a bolt of lightning, in human history. It is simply staggering. With never before seen events there is a demand for a never before seen response in the way in which we care for those families who have lost loved ones; in the way in which we care for those who have been injured, in the way in which we deal with the question of mental health, particularly as it impacts children; in the way in which we provide support to volunteers; and in the way in which we provide support to businesses in affected fire communities, whether or not they've been physically touched by the fire. It is impossible, in talking about this, not to mention the question of climate change. I know those opposite understand this. Whatever one's view is of climate change here in this chamber, in this building or in this city, the fact is that, over the last couple of months, it has been spoken about in a way that we've never seen before. Obviously Australia, and I know people understand this across the House, must have a credible response to climate change, and clearly Australia on its own is not going to be able to solve the global challenge of climate change. But with an unprecedented level of international attention to events that are unfolding here in Australia comes an unprecedented opportunity in the way in which we respond locally and in what we say about climate change for our voice to be heard around the world. I truly do believe that the people of Australia want the people in this chamber to take that opportunity up right now. The fires have been devastating. The grief has been immense. From Dick and Clayton Lang and their family on Kangaroo Island through to the family of Geoffrey Keaton in Western Sydney, in every state and territory of our Commonwealth right across our nation, and indeed throughout the continent and even to Great Falls in Montana, the grief has been overflowing. To those who have been suffering in many and varied ways, I want to say that this parliament, with complete unanimity, stands with you.