United In Grief: Britain And America 'Shoulder To Shoulder'

Contemporary Review, Oct, 2001 by Richard Mullen

ON Tuesday the eleventh of September, that decreasing portion of people in Britain who follow political news were mildly interested to see whether the Prime Minister would receive a cool welcome from his allies in the Trade Union Conference who are annoyed with his policies on public services. It was for that reason that I switched on the BBC radio to hear the 4 p.m. news. It had only one topic: the horrific terrorist attacks in New York and Washington.

Like millions of others I turned on the television set and found myself mesmerised by the unfolding catastrophe. The news arrived so swiftly that one Englishman only fled from his office in the World Trade Center after a telephone call from his aunt in Nottingham saying she had just seen on the BBC that a plane had smashed into his building. As with so many, my first coherent thoughts were about family and friends. I thought of a brother who lives near New York and a sister who drives by the Pentagon on her way to work. When I heard that they were safe, I also learned of others known to me who were not. The brother of friends of mine, the father of five young children, worked on the 106th floor of the World Trade Center and has not been heard of since the dreadful explosion. New York's Fire Chaplain, Fr Mychal Judge, was my brother's friend and fellow Franciscan priest. The Chaplain had been among the first to reach the scene of carnage. Sudden death smashed upon the kneeling priest when, having removed his helmet, he was administering the last rites to a dying fireman. Here was a real religious 'martyr' and not those tawdry terrorists who claimed martyrdom and are only mass murderers.

My brother reminded me of a quote that the Chaplain often used in sermons: 'if you want to make God laugh, tell Him your plans for tomorrow'. For a few hours many people wondered whether there would be any 'tomorrow'. One friend of mine had driven from Oxford to Stratford to see a performance of Shakespeare's King John. As she got out of her car in the mid-afternoon Cotswold sun she was greeted by her hostess: 'the Pentagon is ablaze; we are about to have World War Three'. From that mournful Tuesday onwards, sympathy flowed from every part of this island. For days we had no real idea of the extent of the losses. Gradually we realised that among the thousands of dead were several hundred Britons.

The Queen, who had been so unjustly criticised at the time of the mass hysteria following the death of Princess Diana, showed remarkable imagination by ordering that the Changing of the Guard ceremony at Buckingham Palace should include the playing of the Star Spangled Banner while the American Ambassador took the salute. He said 'I was so moved. ... The Queen has been a great friend, caring and warm. She knows exactly how to react in a crisis'. A few days later President Bush, in his address to a joint session of Congress, said 'America will never forget the sounds of our national anthem playing at Buckingham Palace'. (The American National Anthem reflects the tangled history of Britain and America: Francis Scott Key wrote the words while British ships were bombarding an American fort but for the tune the young republic borrowed a British Army drinking song.) British politicians of all hues hastened to support America. Tony Blair pledged that Britain would stand 'shoulder to shoulder' with America. The oppo sition Tory party postponed the announcement of the results of its protracted leadership election. Parliament was summoned back from its summer recess so that the Prime Minister could explain his policy. He stressed the fact that international terrorism might soon be capable of delivering chemical or even nuclear attacks on major cities. Britain was under as great a threat as America. Only a few MPs, the usual eccentric specimens, expressed major reservations. The new Tory leader lain Duncan Smith, with his background as a Guards officer who had fought terrorism in Northern Ireland, supported the Government in its resolve.

Shortly before 11 a.m. on Friday, I could hear rising up from the towers and spires of Oxford a peal of mournful bells and throughout the gentle autumnal countryside of England bells tolled, some from churches which contain the tombs of those valiant crusaders of centuries before with their hands reaching across their marbled armour towards their puissant swords. Suddenly from the radio sounded the booming bell of Big Ben, that symbol of freedom and civilisation in the last war against incarnate evil. This marked the start of the three minute silence observed throughout the British isles. During that period there was the biggest ever decrease in the demand for electricity as industry and commerce halted and even electric kettles were stilled throughout the land. An hour later the Queen, Prince Philip, Prince Charles, as well as the present and past Prime Ministers, most major politicians and thousands of others attended a memorial service at St Paul's Cathedral. The service was so moving that the Queen was s een wiping tears from her eyes. The congregation, including numerous Americans, faced the American Memorial Chapel behind the main altar. This Chapel honours the American dead of the Second World War and every day a verger turns to a new parchment page listing those who perished six decades ago. I recall escorting a cherished Southern friend to see her fallen brother's name in the exquisitely inscribed Book of Remembrance. She was adamant that her brother, Lt. George Bradbury, had fallen in defence of our two countries, the land of his birth and England, the land of his ancestors.