‘No, thank you.’
‘Is there anything you want to add to what you have written in your statement?’
‘Yes, sir. There is.’
‘Is it going to be relevant, Mr Sawyer?’ said the chairman of the tribunal, a man I knew to be Patrick Matheson, the owner of a large insurance brokerage in Manchester.
‘I believe so, sir,’ Sawyer replied, facing the bench squarely.
‘All right, but keep it brief. We’ve a lot to get through this morning.’
Sawyer glanced at the public gallery where I was sitting to take my notes, together with three other members of the general public, then at the press bench, where a reporter from the local newspaper was paying close attention to everything that happened.
As this is for the public record, sir,’ Sawyer said, ‘I will need to go over some of the material you have read in my statement, so that the rest of what I have to say will make sense to other people.’
‘Very well, but be quick.’
‘Thank you, sir.’ Sawyer shifted position, trying to ease his muscular legs within the narrow confines of where he had been made to stand. ‘I have been a pacifist since 1936, when I travelled to Germany on behalf of my country and competed in the Olympic Games. Before then, I was too young to take much notice of world affairs, having been at school, then at university - ’
‘Which university was that, Mr Sawyer?’ Mrs Agnes Kilcannon asked.
‘Brasenose College, Oxford, ma’am.’
‘Thank you. Carry on.’
‘While I was staying in Berlin I came into contact with Chancellor Hitler and other members of the Nazi ruling party. I also saw at first hand the effects of their ruthless control over the country. My father was a conscientious objector during the last war, and what I saw made me remember what he always said, that the Treaty of Versailles was merely stoking the fires of future troubles. I saw much that alarmed me. Germany was controlled by the police and army, also by groups of armed militia who did not seem answerable to the authorities. Newspapers had been closed. Certain minority groups, like the Jews, were unable to work and were being constantly harassed by officials. Many shops owned by Jews had been burned. My friends in Berlin, with whom I was staying, were formerly a well-placed family, the man a doctor, his wife a translator, but because of the Nazis they were virtually unable to work. There were extensive laws which affected their most basic rights and freedoms. As well as that, I was shown convincing evidence that the Nazis were secretly expanding their army and had created a modern air force, in breach of the Treaty.’
‘If I may say so, Mr Sawyer, it is for reasons like these that most young men have taken up arms to fight Hitler.”
‘I know, sir, but I’m trying to show you that I’m aware of the danger Germany presents.’ Sawyer paused to look down at his own copy of his statement, which he was holding. I could see the page trembling. He cleared his throat and went on, referring to the statement but speaking from the heart. ‘I am personally convinced that war is wrong, no matter how good the cause. I am also convinced that although a war can be fought for what is believed to be an honourable reason, such as with the intention of forming a peaceful society, the war itself, by causing so much death and destruction, defeats its own object. Human suffering, pain, misery, separation and bereavement are inevitable when wars are fought. Violence, when opposed by other violence, creates a set of circumstances in which more violence will inevitably follow. Revenge, retribution and reprisal become predominant in people’s minds. They seek to hurt others because they themselves have been hurt. I know that views like mine are unpopular in wartime, sir, but they are sincerely held and openly expressed. I am applying for complete exemption under the Act and request you to register me unconditionally as a conscientious objector.’
After a short silence the chairman said, ‘Thank you, Mr Sawyer.’
The three tribunal members briefly consulted in whispers. The only woman on the bench, Mrs Kilcannon - later to be Lady Kilcannon but at that time the deputy chairwoman of Macclesfield Town Council - spoke up.
‘Do you have any evidence to show us that you have not trumped up your beliefs in the last few weeks, merely to avoid military service?’
Strictly speaking, Sawyer was not obliged to answer such a question, but he faced her steadfastly.
‘I do wish to avoid military service, but I have been working actively for peace since 1936. As soon as I returned from Germany I set up home with my wife and took a job as an adviser working with homeless refugee families in Manchester. I joined the Peace Pledge Union and committed myself to housing and prison reform. I began to work more closely with Canon Sheppard of the PPU and was appointed a national organizer. I was on the paid staff until the outbreak of war. I am still an unpaid member of the PPU National Council.’
‘Do you have another job?’
‘I have been working as a trainee printer, but I am actively seeking a more useful occupation that would be in tune with my beliefs.’
‘Do you have any religious faith?’
‘No, sir.’ Sawyer looked directly at the Reverend Michael Hutchinson, the third member of the tribunal, who had fired the question at him. Again, such a question was not normally admissible, and I noticed the clerk of the tribunal turn to glance warningly up at the bench. Sawyer did not flinch, though. ‘I am an agnostic pacifist, my objection to the war being based on moral or ethical grounds, not religious ones.’
‘I see. So how would you distinguish between moral and religious grounds?’
‘I do not believe in God, sir.’
‘You are an atheist?’
‘No, I’m an agnostic. I’m full of doubts.’
‘Yet you have written in the preamble to your statement that you are a Quaker.’
‘No, sir. With respect, I say there that I am attracted to the moral framework of Quakerism and share many of its ideals. I have worked on several projects with the Society of Friends. However, theirs is a system of belief and mine is a system of doubt. In your terms I remain Godless.’
Revd Hutchinson noted something on his pad of paper and indicated to the chairman with a tilt of his pencil that he had no more questions.
‘All right, Mr Sawyer,’ said Patrick Matheson. ‘I should like to ask you a few questions about practical matters, so we can find out the extent of your objections. As you know, we are here to decide the level of registration for which we think you are suitable. This can be subject to various conditions, or it can be unconditional. At the same time, we might decide that you should not be registered at all. Do you understand that?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Let me ask you first, is there any kind of war to which you do not object?’
‘No, sir. I object to all wars.’
‘Can you say why?’
‘Because a country at war is pursuing its aims by means of violence. That must be wrong, no matter what.’
‘Even if its aims are to resist the violent aggression of a dictator like Hitler?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Then do you propose that this country should stand idly by and let Hitler do whatever he wants?’
‘I don’t know what the answer is to that. I can only speak for myself.’
‘All right, then let me ask you this. Is there any part of the present war effort in which you might be willing to take part? Serving in the RAMC, for instance?’
‘No, sir.’
‘So you would not help a wounded man?’
‘Not if I were made to serve in the Royal Army Medical Corps.’
‘Why is that?’
‘Because the Corps is part of the army. The people who serve in it are subject to military discipline and are bound to obey orders. The main purpose of the army is to fight the war, which I cannot accept.’