Air Chief Marshal Dowding

This month each year celebrates the Battle of Britain which virtually saved this country from the horrors of an invasion by a merciless enemy.  Yet the victor of that battle is seldom given the gratitude he deserves.  In fact, of all the commanders in the Second World War, it is difficult to find one who received the disgraceful treatment meted out to Air Chief Marshal Sir Hugh Dowding, whose foresight, courage and leadership won the battle.  When Hitler prepared for the invasion of Britain with “Operation Sea- Lion”, he set out one condition for its success - the destruction of the Royal Air Force.  Dowding denied Hitler this success.  Hugh Caswell Tremenheere Dowding was born in Moffat, Scotland, on 24 April 1882.  He was educated at Winchester School where, as Peter Appleby will remember from our time at Chivers, the motto was “Manners Maketh Man!”  In 1899 Dowding joined the Royal Military Academy, Woolwich.  Audrey Currie will be pleased to learn that when he left the Academy he had the good sense to join the Royal Artillery.  He served with them from 1900 to 1912 in Gibraltar, Ceylon (now Sri Lanka), Hong Kong and India.  On his return to England, he joined the Army Staff College where he gained his Pilot’s Licence in 1913.

In World War One he was a Squadron Commander in the Royal Flying Corps in France.  In 1919, he joined the newly created Royal Air Force as a Group Captain.  In 1929, he became an Air Vice Marshal and the following year he joined the Air Council as the Air Member for Supply and Research.  His task was to prepare the RAF for war and he held an aircraft design competition.  There were two winners which went into production in 1934.  They won the Battle of Britain – the Hawker Hurricane and the Supermarine Spitfire!  The late Hugh Elliott, who is commemorated in St Faith’s by a plaque on the south side of the nave, was a Battle of Britain pilot who flew both aircraft.  He was my immediate predecessor as churchwarden and he told me once that, although the Spitfire captured the imagination of the world, the Hurricane was a better aircraft to fly.  It is not generally known that there were more Hurricanes in the battle than Spitfires. 

Early in the war, Churchill was keen to send ten squadrons of Hurricanes to France.  On 15 May, Dowding stood alone at the War Cabinet and threw his pencil down when asked to send the aircraft.  Walking past the ranks of cabinet ministers, he confronted Churchill with a graph showing pilots and aircraft available for the defence of Britain.  The great man recognized the force of Dowding’s argument and the aircraft were saved from almost certain destruction or capture in France.  Dowding, who was promoted Air Marshal in 1934, was the first to recognise the value of the newly developed RADAR and in 1937 he had built the coastal chain of radar stations which played such a vital role in the defeat of the Luftwaffe.  In July 1936, he took command of the newly formed Fighter Command and immediately argued for defensive fighter aircraft rather than offensive aircraft.  Thankfully, he won the argument but in doing so he made several enemies in the higher echelons of the RAF.  He next successfully argued for an expansion of the Observer Corps which was tasked to scan the sky for enemy aircraft.  Thankfully again, he won the argument and saved this nation from catastrophe.  To discover how, you must take down the blackout curtains and get to church to purchase next month’s “Faith Matters” from Beryl!

Roger Bryant

Ralph Vaughan Williams and the English Hymnal

In the last edition of “Faith Matters” Vaughan Williams’ early life was outlined.  Although an agnostic, he retained close links with the Church and recognised the importance of its musical tradition.  His influence on church music was vital and was largely due to his passionate interest in gathering and notating folk songs.

By about the year 1906, it became clear to many that there was a need for a new, non-sectarian hymn book that reflected the changes that had taken place both in the Church and the wider society.  Many considered that the current Victorian hymns had too much sentimentality.  They wanted to have hymns that reflected more non-sectarian views.

In 1901 the Rev. Percy Dearmer (1867-1936) became Vicar of St Mary’s in Primrose Hill, London and his church rapidly gained a reputation for the beauty of both its music and liturgy.  Percy Dearmer was only too aware of the ridiculous nature of many of the Victorian hymns such as:

“O for a man; O for a man;

O for a man- - -Sion in the sky”.

He considered that such hymns were both textually and musically unsuitable for his congregation and decided to gather a committee together to compile a new hymnbook that contained hymns with more suitable words set to music of a high standard.  He took on the responsibility for editing the words and invited Ralph Vaughan Williams to be the music editor.

Vaughan Williams had a huge influence upon the birth of the English Hymnal.  For some years he had worked tirelessly to gather together and record as many folk tunes as possible before they disappeared into the mists of time.  From these, he eliminated the more famous and unsuitable tunes, selecting instead some lesser-known folk melodies.  One of these is the famous Christmas carol “O little town of Bethlehem” (English Hymnal No15) that he adapted from a folk song called “The Ploughboy’s Dream”.  Vaughan Williams was often criticised for using folk-song material, but such practices had been common for years.  In the Middle Ages, many a church melody originated from the more secular tunes of the day.  Besides folk songs, Vaughan Williams also tapped into other sources.  He chose carefully, and included melodious Welsh tunes, Bach chorale themes, historical melodies such as “Tallis’ Canon” and ancient tunes from the Sarum Rite.  He aimed for purity of musical line and chose the best version that was not always the original melody.  

Where he considered that the original tunes were not of a high enough standard, Vaughan Williams composed his own.  The most beautiful of these is “Down Ampney”, the tune to “Come down, O Love divine” (English Hymnal No.152).  This is named after the Gloucestershire village where he was born and where his father was the local Vicar.  Another tune he composed is “Sine Nomine” - “For all the Saints” (English Hymnal No. 641) with its distinctive ‘thump’ from the organ on the first beat of the bar.  This was rhythmically designed to encourage the congregation to sing together in unison right at the beginning of the verse.

Contemporary musical friends were asked to contribute new tunes and Gustav Holst was one of these with his famous “Cranham” – the tune to “In the bleak mid-winter” (English Hymnal No.25).  Vaughan Williams also used melodies from previous composers such as Handel – “Rejoice, the Lord is King” (English Hymnal No.476), Orlando Gibbons – “Forth in thy name, O Lord, I go” (English Hymnal No.259), Mendelssohn – “Hark! The herald Angels sing” (English Hymnal No.24) and S. S. Wesley – “The Church’s one foundation” (English Hymnal No.489).  The “Old Hundredth” - “All people that on earth do dwell” (English Hymnal No.365), contains words from Psalm 100 and is an ancient melody taken from the Genevan Psalter of 1551.  Vaughan Williams subsequently added trumpet fanfares and the resulting triumphant composition was played at the Coronation of Queen Elizabeth II in 1953.  This was a notable musical event as it was the first time at a Coronation that provision had been made for congregational singing during the service.  This was at the suggestion of Vaughan Williams and was agreed to by the then Archbishop - Dr. Fisher.

Meanwhile, Percy Dearmer was hard at work selecting and editing the words of all the hymns.  Some theological aspects of Christianity are almost impossible to put into words, so some writers resorted to symbolism and imagery, creating hymns of great beauty such as “Let all mortal flesh keep silence” (English Hymnal No.318) and “The royal banners forward go” (English Hymnal No.94).  Words from famous writers were also used, like Rudyard Kipling’s “God of our fathers” (English Hymnal No.558) and G. K. Chesterton’s “O God of earth and altar” (English Hymnal No.562).

The new “English Hymnal” took two years to produce and was eventually published in 1906.  Many of the popular, more sentimental Victorian hymn tunes were included in an appendix, which the committee fondly named the “Chamber of Horrors”.  The resultant hymn-book – a reaction to Victorian sentimentality – was broadly welcomed.  Vaughan Williams considered this new English Hymnal to be “a thesaurus of all the finest hymn tunes in the world”.  [Kennedy, Michael. The Works of Ralph Vaughan Williams. London: OUP, 1964 reprint 1980, p. 65].  The deep interest that Vaughan Williams took in folk music, together with his work on the English Hymnal, was to influence many of his compositions.

Michael Kennedy, author, musicologist and friend, describes Vaughan Williams as being a big man with the hands of an artist, a finely-cut nose, and expressive eyes which were alert sometimes and withdrawn and visionary at others.  [Kennedy, Michael. The Works of Ralph Vaughan Williams. London: OUP, 1964 reprint 1980, p. 380].  He was warm-hearted and had a wicked sense of humour.  Despite his upper class background he treated everyone with equal respect.  However, he was inclined to angry outbursts, particularly at rehearsals.  He was also acquainted with the darker side of life.  During the First World War (1914-18) he enlisted in the Royal Army Medical Corps and experienced first hand the horrors of war, losing many friends.  Also, he cared for his first wife Adeline who was an invalid for much of their time together.  Despite this he remained an optimist.  He loved London, attending concerts and parties, and socialising.  Both his character and his varied experiences of life are reflected in his music.

Dr. Ralph Vaughan Williams died on the 26^th August 1958, the very day that he was due to attend a recording of his 9^th Symphony.  The funeral took place at Westminster Abbey and the service concluded with his Coronation setting of “The Old Hundredth” – “All people that on earth do dwell, Sing to the Lord with cheerful voice….”.  His ashes are interred in the North Choir Aisle near to Purcell and Stanford.

Peter Willey

From the Editor

The PCC agreed to sell the Christ-church site and for the capital to be used to refurbish Church House and for renovating the church.

The PCC held a Section 11 meeting, chaired by the Rural Dean, Revd Dr P Moore, to agree the procedure for filling the post of Rector.

Last month, Beryl and I went to a wedding at St James Church in Husborne Crawley.  The church dates from 1170 and was restored in 1911 with money from the Duke of Bedford – do we know of anyone who would like to invest in St. Faith’s?  The reception was held in the Sculpture Gallery at Woburn Abbey which overlooks the private gardens and lake of the Duke of Bedford with splendid views of many rare and mature trees.

As the venue was less than an hour’s drive from Lime Tree Village, Joan Medley invited us to tea to see her home.  Lime Tree Village is nestled between the rural Warwickshire villages of Bilton and Dunchurch – close to Rugby.  The focal point of the village is Cawston House, an Edwardian mansion that has been restored to provide a real country club feel and provides the restaurant, bar, meeting room, library and snooker room.  Joan, who moved from Havant 15-months ago, took us around the delightfully landscaped grounds which are bordered by ecologically rich woodland and a village pond.  It is such a lovely, peaceful and secure environment for retired people.

Colin Carter

The Reverend David Austen Gibbons

 

Visitors from Ghana

 Palestine – Views from another Pair of Eyes

I was very interested to read the series of articles in 'Faith Matters' about Palestine, as I had some experience of that country myself in the mid-1940s.

I was put on a draft for the Middle East in the autumn of 1944, after a long period of training for technical work with the Royal Corps of Signals.  Towards the end of September of that year we sailed from Liverpool on the troopship 'Duchess of Bedford'.  This was a former Canadian Pacific liner which had been taken over by the government.  It was known to the troops as 'The Drunken Duchess', and it was not long before I discovered why it had acquired this nickname!  As we entered the Bay of Biscay we met some heavy weather, as one might expect there.  Just as I was about to descend a stairway to a lower deck, it came up to meet me!  For the next few days, most of the troops aboard were rather inactive!  Fortunately things settled down after we passed Gibraltar and entered the Mediterranean Sea.

The voyage lasted a fortnight - no quick air travel then - and as we approached Alexandria, where we were to dock, we went up on deck to watch.  After ten minutes we had to go below again - the sun was too hot for us!  After a few days in Egypt we began to get used to the heat, and had no more bother.  It was the same with the brightness: I had to wear sunglasses, but as in those days there were no plastic lenses, they were made of glass, and after breaking several pairs I managed to do without them.

We spent a few nights in a Transit Camp near Cairo, then boarded a train going north and after crossing the Sinai Desert we entered Palestine.  Travelling on up the country, we came to Haifa in the north where we spent another few days in a Transit Camp.  This gave me my first opportunity to see something of Palestine.  We explored Haifa, both the older port, and the newer Jewish area on Mount Carmel.  By a strange coincidence, in October sixty-two years later almost to the day, I had lunch in the Californian town of Carmel.

In Haifa I noticed a display of notices and posters written in Hebrew, and my impression was that they were upside down.  I stooped right down (something I could do in those days!), looked up at them from underneath, and they still seemed to be upside down!  Further on we saw another notice announcing, in English, a performance that evening by the Israel National Opera Company of the operetta 'Lilac Time', which was written using the music of Schubert.  Some of us went along, and thoroughly enjoyed it, although it was sung in Hebrew, but as it started so late in the evening we had to leave after the first act.

While in Haifa I took the opportunity to visit Nazareth.  I had to go by local bus, and my memory tells me I had to change buses halfway.  In Nazareth, quite a modern town, there was nothing to link it with Bible days, but the old synagogue did have something of a suggestion of those times, and I could quite imagination it was in just such a building that Jesus was invited to read from the Book of Isaiah, as recorded in St. Luke's gospel Chapter 4, verses 16-30.

After a few days in Haifa, we moved on to Beirut, the capital of Lebanon, and I was stationed in that area for the next eighteen months.  This included the end of the war in Europe, VE Day, in May 1945.  All the army units stationed there held a mock parade more on the lines of a carnival, with decorated army vehicles depicting the defeat of Hitler.  A day or two later, some incident occurred in that volatile country, and as we were passing through the town centre, Martyr's Square, or Place des Canons, shots were fired.  I have never seen a crowd disperse and disappear so quickly, though no doubt the locals had had lots of practice!  The United States and Britain each sent a warship to Beirut, and all of our army vehicles had to display a Union Flag to ensure our immunity from the local fighting.  After a few days an agreement was reached, and things settled down again.  For a few weeks I was on detachment to Ninth Army headquarters, in a town called Aley, in the hills above Beirut, where they had taken over the former Grand Hotel.  I was there when Japan surrendered, and the hotel was decorated with flags and bunting.  Aley was on the railway from Beirut to Damascus, and such were the gradients that it took the train two hours for the ten miles or so!

Whilst in Beirut, I paid some visits to Christian workers in nearby towns and villages in the hills.  On one of these trips, I went up in the local bus, and as it was full, I had to share the back seat with a sheep!  Sometimes these local buses would carry a piece of furniture tied to the roof to oblige one of the passengers.

It was not unusual in Beirut to see a tramcar go by with a row of chickens perched on the rear dashboard.  Passengers would hang on to the outside of the tram, jump off when the conductor came along and run alongside, then climb on again after he had passed along the car.  The tram drivers seemed to think that in order to make the car go, they had to sound the foot-operated gong, so they went trundling along with the driver stamping away on the pedal. All drivers seemed to be called 'Ahmed', and after each stop the conductor would call out, 'Marchez, Ahmed^’ and the driver would set off, with the inevitable gong sounding loudly.  Lebanon and Syria had been French mandates between the wars, hence the use of the French language.

In the spring of 1946, I was posted to join the staff of the Middle East School of Signals near Cairo, to help train the young soldiers coming out from England, by now National Service conscripts.  As soon as I arrived there, before taking up any duties, I was given a month's leave in England, so it was not until June 1946 that I began my work there.  I was not to stay in Egypt for long, as the political situation required the withdrawal of all British troops from Egypt except for the Canal Zone.  We moved before we needed to, but as our Colonel told us, by going soon he had the choice of a new location, whereas if he waited, he would have had to take whichever camp was allocated to us.

So in October 1946 I once again entered Palestine from Egypt, only this time it was by road.  I was part of the advance party, and we took some of our equipment on trucks over the Sinai Desert.  Our new location was in a camp near Gaza, where several Army Schools were already established.  Gaza, so often in the news nowadays, was not the densely populated town seen on our television screens, but a small, sleepy place centred round a long main street.  There was a Church Missionary Society hospital, and I came to know the doctor in charge.

By this time the Jewish terrorists were active, calling for an independent Jewish state.  The King David Hotel in Jerusalem had been blown up just a few months before we moved to Gaza.  Illegal immigrants - there's nothing new! - were attempting to land on the coast.  Orders came that we were to mount a 24 hour picket to guard our part of the camp, and guess who was 'selected' to take charge of it?  We were all pleased when the order came to stand down after only a week or so.

In December 1946 we arranged to take a party of our students up to Jerusalem for the weekend.  On the Saturday evening, after we had arrived, we went for a meal, and half way through we heard guns firing outside in the street.  We had to stay inside until things were quiet again, by which hour there was no time to do any sight-seeing.  That left us only part of Sunday to visit the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, the Via Dolorosa, and to go on to Bethlehem to see the Church of the Nativity.  Though interesting, none of these places conveyed much of the true atmosphere of the events which took place there in Bible times.  It was only on the Saturday night, walking back in the dark after the shooting had stopped, that I could sense a 'something' in the air, hard to describe, but giving the Impression that Jerusalem was, in some indefinable way, a 'special' place.  The only other occasion when I have had a similar impression was in Canterbury Cathedral.

When I think of the sophisticated equipment used by the army of today, I feel that what we used sixty years ago was really primitive, but at that time it was the latest in technology.  One piece of apparatus we had gave three extra telephone circuits in addition to the normal telephone line, hence it was called a '1+3'.  When you think what can be done now with tiny microchips, memory cards, and using fibre optic cables, the 1+3 consisted of three large bays reaching from floor to ceiling in order to accommodate the necessary circuits.  The new '1+4' which replaced it was smaller, only two shoulder-height bays.  Both instruments were included in my department's syllabus, but when the 1+3 became redundant it had to be returned to the army stores in Allenby Barracks in Jerusalem.  It was loaded on a truck, and with a party of students to act as guards, all of us armed with sten guns, we set off.  Not far along the road we were stopped by an army patrol.  We were told that some illegal immigrants were thought to have come ashore nearby, and we had to keep our eyes open for anything suspicious, but we saw nothing of them.  In several places along the road bridges over almost dried up rivers had been blown up, and we had to descend to the bottom, drive across, and back up to the road on the other side.

At Allenby Barracks, I went to the stores and handed over the equipment to the Lieutenant Quartermaster in charge, obtaining the all important signature from him so removing it from my responsibility.  Then I said, "Can you tell me the way to the armoury, so that I can leave this gun while I go for a meal?”  Weapons were not allowed to be taken in to meals back at the School of Signals.  He just laughed and replied, 'You're in Jerusalem now; you take it in with you.'  So I did!

My stint at the School of Signals came to an end in June 1947, and I returned to England.  Some ten weeks of demobilisation leave took me to the date in September when I exchanged army life for an academic one by entering college to study for the teaching profession.

Trevor Hopkinson