In World War 1, over 100,000 New Zealanders served overseas, and there was strong home support for the war effort. In the first week after war was declared in 1914, over 14,000 enlisted as volunteers. By 1916, the endless toll of maimed and dead men impacted on New Zealand society and support for the war waned. Only 30 per cent of the men eligible for military service had volunteered. Thus, in 1916, conscription was imposed on Pakeha; then later it was extended to Maori; which effort netted a further 30,000 enlisted men. There were also conscientious objectors.
In the words of historian David Grant: “ Conscientious Objection is where a person refuses to be part of a military establishment, by refusing to train under CMT, or refusing to join the armed forces during war time, on grounds of conscience “
By the end of the war, 273 conscientous objectors were in prison, and a further 2,600 had lost their civil right, including being denied voting rights for 10 years, and being barred from working for the government or local bodies. All faced hostility, and had to undertake alternative non- combatant service.
Conscription was re- introduced in July 1940. Conscientious Objectors (known as ‘conchies’) could appeal against conscription. 3,000 did on conscience grounds, but only 600 of these were allowed. The balance either submitted to the law, or were confined and detained in concentration camps. New Zealand’s treatment of conchies was far more punitive than either the UK or Australia. By the end of the war, over 200 so-called ‘military defaulters’ were still in prison.
New Zealanders who publicly opposed the Military Service Act (which made conscription compulsory) were a small minority of mainly communists and pacifists, They believed that war, or any use of force as a means of settling disputes, was morally wrong. One of these objectors was my beloved cousin Lawrence Baigent. He was a member of the NZ Peace Pledge Union – they marched, and spoke out against New Zealand involvement in conflict. After War was declared, such anti-war meetings and parades were banned. Those who ignored the ban were imprisoned.
Lawrence knew first- hand the dreadful cost of War. His family – including his Father, grandfather and four uncles- had sustained terrible injuries, and had their lives curtailed by the Great War. Lawrence admired the writer Archibald Baxter’s brave stand, which is recorded in his book We Will Not Cease. Baxter had written: “My fight was to the utmost against the military machine during World War 1.” Baxter was balloted for Service and arrested in 1916. Six of his brothers also went to prison for their pacifist beliefs.
As a child, Lawrence lived with my Mother and her sister, more like their brother than a cousin. When their fathers, and most male relatives, went off on the troop ships, to World War One, Lawrence and his mother moved in with my Mother’s family. Both sisters, Effie and Gertrude, shared home and child rearing responsibilities. Their children all attended Brightwater Primary School, then the girls went to Nelson College for Girls, and Lawrence was a boarder at Nelson College for Boys. He was in the infirmary when the Murchison Earthquake caused that building to collapse. Lawrence was seriously injured, and walked with a limp from a shortened leg for the rest of his life.
Lawrence arrived at Canterbury University College in 1931 when the Depression seemed to be generating intense activity in student politics and culture. He was one of the group of students, led by Denis Glover, and including Ian Milner; who launched the controversial Oriflamme. After graduating, Lawrence trained as a teacher, and taught at Christchurch Boys High School. His teaching career was curtailed when he was suspended for Conscientious Objection to Military Service in 1942. He joined Denis Glover at Caxton Press, and became editor, compositor and printer, with Leo Bensemann and other intellectual friends.
When the teenage James K Baxter appeared with his mother in August 1944, and presented Lawrence with a bundle of poems, Lawrence was ” completely bowled over by them”. He became, in Baxter’s words, ‘rather enthusiastic as a midwife”; seeing Beyond the Pallisade into print. In 1945, Lawrence gave Baxter his big break into the creative art and writing scene of Christchurch, by including him in the cultural hub which regularly met in his Cambridge Terrace flat. Some of Lawrence’s significant friends included Allen Curnow, Basil Dowling, Douglas Lilburn and painter Rita Angus. In an amusing account Lawrence gave to Frank Mc Kay for his book, the Life of James K. Baxter, he was “suffering from Baxter’s loquacity.”
Joining the Canterbury University English Department in 1946, he carried for some years a prodigious teaching load that, with his own self-effacement, restricted his writing to reviews in Landfall and elsewhere. Though few, these were perceptive, for instance, in criticising ‘the mystique of violence’ in the fiction of Guthrie Wilson. He continued generously to support others, including Ngaio Marsh and Mervyn Thompson in their early drama work. Baxter summarised him as ‘friendly, sensitive, intelligent, poetical views sound but slightly narrow for me,”
We continued to have regular contact with Lawrence. Every birthday and Christmas he would give me a book – one well beyond my reading age. He deliberately ‘stretched’ my reading ability and desire to read good books. He was the first published author I knew, and I aspired to follow his lead. He came to stay with me in Singapore in the early 1980s, and that was a special time of reminiscing for both of us. The last time I spent with Lawrence was in 1985, when he drove me home from my Father’s funeral at St John’s Latimer Square (destroyed in the 2010 earthquake) Two days later, Lawrence died suddenly; also of heart failure. It was a double loss for us, his family. Lawrence and his friend Robert bequeathed a number of valuable works of art to the City of Christchurch. The collection includes ten works by Rita Angus, including the gem of Mountains, Cass; and exceptional examples by Leo Bensemann
They hang in the Christchurch Art Gallery.
It was not only the conchies that suffered for their beliefs; their families were also targets of hostility and censure. With the breadwinner unable to work, conscientious objection was a costly choice affecting far more than just a loss of freedom. Absence placed great pressure on relationships. Letters were censored, and phone calls impossible. Travel was very difficult, with petrol rationed, and a limit of 60 miles allowed on the train. Detention camps for conchies were deliberately located in remote, uncomfortable areas.
My cousin Peter and I both remember our mothers talking about unpleasant incidents that occurred in public, where they were embarrassed by people who did not understand Lawrence’s pacifist stand. I remember that white feathers (symbols of cowardice) were surreptitiously posted in our letter box. This upset my mother, but not me. We’ve bred white doves most of my life; and these beautiful white birds are the international symbol of peace. To me, white feathers represent the desire for peace on Earth.
Having great grandfathers, grandfathers, and uncles serving in war, winning medals and honourable mentions in dispatches; and my father training fighter-pilots in WW2, my family has done its’ bit for King and Country. My brothers were conscripted for CMT at school and my three sons have each spent two years full time in CMT. Yet I still find nothing noble or good about the concept of war: of innocent young men being trained to kill and maim other people, over political and ideological differences.
To me, Lawrence was a hero. He could have been medically cleared of military training and duties, on the grounds of his damaged, shortened (and painful) leg injury. Instead, he chose to make a stand for non- violence and peace, and suffer the consequences. Now THAT is heroic!
On this ANZAC Day, we look back over the last century of the wars, which have taken lives and crippled families. From WW1, through to Korea and Vietnam; and later peace- making missions, our country has made a difference to the changing face of the modern world. While other national anthems are gory and blood-thirsty (Just translate La Marseillaise!) we are blessed to have a National Prayer, which asks God to defend New Zealand. And it pleads for peace, in these seldom sung verses.
“Men of every creed and race
Gather here before Thy face,
Asking thee to bless this place.
God defend our free land.
From dissension, envy, hate,
And corruption guard our State.
Make our country good and great,
God defend New Zealand.
Peace, not war, shall be our boast,
But, should foes assail our coast,
make us then a might host,
God defend our free land.
Lord of battles in thy might,
Put our enemies to flight.
Let our cause be just and right
God defend New Zealand.
May our mountains ever be
Freedom’s ramparts on the sea.
Make us faithful unto Thee,
God defend our free land.
Guide her in the nations’ van
Preaching love and truth to man
Working out Thy glorious plan,
God defend New Zealand.
What a powerful prayer. Let’s all sing or pray these words to God, and He will hear our pleas.
That’s our ANZAC commemoration, and a regular prayer too.
Rose Francis
RSS Feed