The Governor and Mrs Fergusson attended the Remembrance Sunday events in St Georges yesterday. The Governor, along with the Premier and other dignitaries, laid a wreath at the World War I memorial in Kings Square. After the ceremony they attended a service of remembrance at St Peters Church at which the Governor gave the following sermon: Let the words of my mouth, and the meditation of my heart, be acceptable in thy sight, O Lord, my strength, and my redeemer. The Reverend Raths has now invited me to give the address in this church a couple of times. He often accompanies the invitation with a gentle enough jibe about the traditional alleged length of Presbyterian sermons. And yet he keeps asking again. You might wonder why he takes the risk – you might wonder why he takes the risk on any grounds, not just length. But I think I have now worked out how he thinks he mitigates the risk of an overlong sermon from me, at least in part. For two years in a row he has invited me to speak on the first Sunday following the Throne Speech. And he probably reckons that if I have only just emerged from making a speech lasting at least an hour and a quarter, I will still be in the repentant, or at least recovery, stage and he can be confident of getting something shorter. Wait and see… This first Sunday after the Throne Speech, this year and last, is also of course Remembrance Sunday. And we have just seen in the beautiful setting of King’s Square the act of remembrance, performed in a community context as it will be done today or on Tuesday all across Bermuda, across the Commonwealth, and in the United States and France and Belgium and elsewhere. Today is the day on which we mark the end of the fighting of the First World War: the strange symmetry of the Armistice starting at the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month. This year is particularly laden with anniversaries. We mark the 75th anniversary of the start of the Second World War; and the 100th Anniversary of the outbreak of the First World War. Most of us here today have no memory of the Second World War. Although I have met more people aged 100 since I came to Bermuda than I have met anywhere before, few even of them will have any real memory of the time of the First World War, let alone of the war itself. Both these wars are beginning to seem a long distance away, both in time and in space. But there are plenty of reminders around that they were real and often painful right here in Bermuda, right here in St George’s. Above all, there are the deaths of people from this community, some the forebears of people who live here today. Most of us here today, even if we are not originally from Bermuda, will have had grandfathers, or great-grandfathers or great-uncles involved, perhaps killed – maybe in the British or Canadian or American forces – or the German or Austrian. Bermuda began its formal commemoration of the start of the First World War, imaginatively, by marking the death on 22 September of the first Bermudian casualty of that War, William Smith, of Somerset, who was killed when the cruiser HMS Aboukir was sunk off the Belgian coast. We know of 80 men in all from Bermuda who died in the armed forces over the following four years. We know of at least 8 from St George’s itself, all with the British or Canadian forces: Ewart Cudemore aged 23 Archibald Gunn William Martin aged 21 Whitford Richardson aged 18 (A memorial service was held in this church for Rifleman Martin, who was in the Bermuda Volunteer Rifle Corps in December 1916; and for Gunner Richardson, who was in the Bermuda Militia Artillery in December 1918) Gordon Stollard, aged 19 Joseph Symons, aged 32 St George Tucker Basil Turini, aged 28. Five of these family names at least are still represented in the Bermuda community. But above all you notice the ages of these often very young men; and the misery and lasting sadness that will have followed each of these deaths. There is a moving and memorable war memorial in Wellington, New Zealand. It is a simple statue of a mother with two small children hanging on round her knees. The power of the memorial is that the father isn’t there. And besides those killed, there was the greater number who came back ill or wounded; or terribly haunted or disturbed by their experiences. This Island, and this Parish, lost others in the Second World War. The moving letters of the Bermudian, Major Toby Smith – grandfather of the former Police Commissioner and Senator, Jonathan Smith, are worth reading for many reasons. And an excellent film documentary of it has been made by the well-known St George’s filmmaker, Lucinda Spurling. But one element is striking. Major Smith’s letters were very critical of the Bermuda he left behind in 1940, with its segregation and its inequalities. But he went as a volunteer to war – and in his case to his death – not for a blind love of country, though he did love his country - but a principle: principled detestation of Nazi and Fascist totalitarianism. I have a great respect for complete pacifism. Strong, consistent – and, not least, Christian – arguments can be made for it. It can involve great courage – either to maintain the pacifist view when it is unpopular or, as the Quakers have done through many conflicts, to go to war in ambulances and serve others under fire without firing back. But there are still principles which justify, in my view, taking up arms, not least in genuine defence. And paying respect to those who do or who have in the past taken up arms for our country or community is important. Besides the memorials to people – and the memories of people – there are also very tangible relics from the wars here, some very familiar. There are the First World War guns dotted around the coast. Also in this parish, there is the airport itself, built by our American allies originally as a vital link in wartime transport and, especially, for protection of convoys and action against submarines. We have had a reminder of Bermuda’s wartime arising out of Hurricane Gonzalo. A tree in the garden at Government House lost several branches but will survive. It was planted by Winston Churchill as Prime Minister in January 1942. The United States had entered the War the month before and Churchill had gone over to Washington as soon as he could to discuss strategy with President Roosevelt. He had come as far as Bermuda on the way back to pick up a warship to cross the rest of the Atlantic – and come to Government House to refresh, prepare for his speech to the House of Assembly, probably have a glass of brandy – and to plant the tree. After all that, he decided to go on by flying boat to save time; and so became the first head of government to cross the Atlantic by air. Bermuda might have been the last place he ever went. On the way home the pilot took a slightly wrong turning and found that the aircraft was about to cross the port of Brest, in North East France, by this stage a heavily defended German submarine base. German aircraft went up to intercept this unidentified aircraft, but couldn’t find it. The pilot rapidly changed course – and then ended up approaching the heavily defended British naval base of Plymouth, which had had no advance warning that he was coming. So the RAF also scrambled to deal with the suspicious aircraft – and also managed, luckily, to lose it. The decision to fly back – made, perhaps, under the influence of Government House brandy, could have had fateful consequences, but fortunately didn’t. The hurricane which has reminded us of that obscure, but I think interesting, link between Bermuda and the World Wars brings me on to the last point I wanted to make. We have just said Psalm 46. Last year, I recall that I quoted the metrical version of the psalm: God is our refuge and our strength, in straits a present aid; Therefore, although the earth remove we will not be afraid: Though hills amidst the seas be cast; Though waters roaring make, And troubled be; yea, though the hills, by swelling seas do shake. This wonderfully vivid verse has a bit more resonance than it did last year, when I noted that we were approaching the end of a mercifully quiet hurricane season. But this day last year I also noted that the people of the central Philippines were reeling from the appalling Typhoon Yolanda, or Haiyan. Many people in the Filipino community here had relations and friends directly affected. And conditions there, particularly in the city of Tacloban, remain very serious. Our hurricane season this year may not have been quite as quiet as the one we were giving thanks for this time last year. But we were still fortunate. And I would ask again that we think of those in the Philippines still working through a slow recovery. And as our own Hurricane reminded us, among those services who helped our recovery were the successors of Gunner Richardson and Riflemen Martin in today’s Bermuda Regiment – and, indeed, the successors to Seaman Smith in today’s Royal Navy. They have demonstrated that the armed services are also very capable of protecting the community against more natural threats. By the end of this month, indeed, the UK’s biggest overseas military deployment will be in Sierra Leone, helping that country in the fight against Ebola. It would be good to be able to say confidently that this will now be the purpose of the world’s defence forces – swords turning to ploughshares, working in a peaceful world to deal with problems not directly arising from mankind’s belligerence. There are some encouraging signs: wars between countries are becoming rarer. Even, surprisingly, the numbers of people being killed each year in conflicts has fallen steadily over recent decades and continues to fall. But conflicts not between states remain deeply worrying and desperately sad; and even since this time last year, completely new threats have taken alarming shape, such as the so-called Islamic State in Iraq and Syria and the turmoil in eastern Ukraine. Past sacrifices have not been in vain: we should treasure the freedoms they have preserved for us. Indeed, we should make better use of them. Most of us are not called, like the stereotypical beauty queens often seemed to be when interviewed, to bring about world peace. But today’s reading from the Beatitudes in Matthews Gospel - Blessed are the peacemakers: for they shall be called the children of God - reminds us of an opportunity, even an obligation, that we do all have. Let peace begin with us, whether within ourselves; or within our families and neighborhoods; our circle of friends and acquaintances; our work; and in our wider community. Can we use this day, and Remembrance Day itself on Tuesday, to remind ourselves to check our actions, and what we say? Can we count ourselves, can we make ourselves, worthy of the sacrifices others have made for us in the past? Can we count ourselves among the peacemakers? For most of us, if we’re honest, probably not. But today, we can at least commit ourselves to try harder. And in that, we would be making a real act of remembrance. Amen
Posted on: Mon, 10 Nov 2014 22:19:35 +0000
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