Section B…Row 7

For some hours during the darkness of my early morning I have sat…held by the Denmark Strait. As I ponder, within my oversized chair, rain falls creating rhythms and influencing themes for the day. I have duties but with these grey skies and abundance of rainfall…first I will walk…before I trek… …my previous duties now seem irrelevant…remembrance comes first.

With this 2024 day, I look back to 24 May 1941, when HMS Hood was sunk by the German battleship Bismarck at about 0600. Hood received a devastating blow that broke its back taking the pride of the Royal Navy to the deep sea of the Irminger Basin. Only three Royal Navy sailors survived – Briggs, Tilburn and Dundas. At least 1,415 of Hood’s complement became memories to friends and families. Their voices lost…their stories remembered.

Three Royal Canadian Navy midshipman, all from British Columbia served aboard HMS Hood…Thomas Norman Kemp Beard (Age 20. Victoria)…Francis Llewelyn Lloyd Jones (Age 20. Revelstoke)…Christopher John Birdwood Norman (Age 19. Victoria). Additionally, 16 sailors from Newfoundland (before it became Canada’s 10^th province in 1949) were lost. One Royal Navy sailor, Samuel Charles Milburn, born in Halifax, Nova Scotia is not recorded in Canadian war dead records.

With my change in appointment, I set off into the rain passing through the ginnel towards my car – we must drive before we walk. I have gathered my notes and determined that today’s writing shall be about the walk…similar to previous steps as Kate Palmer’s Walk (Woods Military Cemetery,) or John Macnaughton’s Walk (Dickebusch New Military Cemetery) both of West-Vlaanderen, Belgium. Our visit today… with the parents of Thomas Beard…Commander Charles Taschereau Beard and Kathleen Adele Beard at God’s Acre – Veterans Cemetery, Esquimalt.

I am familiar with this place having been here for family with the loss of Uncle Bob, a former Royal Canadian Navy sailor and where my own father resides amongst his armed forces brethren. There is not a step I can take, at this place, without thinking of them. On site, I walk towards the far fence and place a reminder for my one to know I have returned this day. I acknowledge my chat with him…a debriefing, so to speak, on life’s events and knowing in life he would be interested in today’s wander.

And then I walk and read – read and walk – row by row – using my own interpretation of naval Zig-Zag Though it is easy enough to walk to the gardener’s cabin and peruse the map layout for Area B – it is of considerable comfort to wander. There is no golf today though the sounds of mowers and leaf blowers is present and not dissimilar to the noise of harvesters near to Villers Station Cemetery, France. I am alone here save for the few Robins wrestling with those which wiggle from the rain-drenched earth.

I have now wandered one half of Veterans Cemetery, bordered to three sides by golf course. I am unsure of the fourth border. It starts from the path on a gentle incline towards the pin. Sand traps to the left and right with its uppermost crest a border of tall trees. I continue to the gardener’s shed (also about mid-distance) and view the map and find my grid – Section B. I walk towards the family Beard and find them amidst the other names here – some of which are marked with painted poppy stones with brief inscriptions. The rain has rather drenched the two family Beard markers but for this day it is perfect here amongst the acre.

Today is about a gentle walk for the Beard family son Thomas…and to his parents on this the day of the Denmark Strait. With each step a thought of all those aboard HMS Hood this fateful day and of its final rest within the Denmark Strait – 2,845 meters below the surface…a depth of 1.7 miles (9,334 feet).

I watch as the water bounces across the surfaces and here at our window it gathers. The droplets as if heavy tears from the sky. Peace here but not so much in this entire world we know as home. The wind not gentle in its breath but manageable, I stand by familiar tree – some eight years have past at this my familiar perch. Others will be here – beside me. Perhaps the same vantage point but it’s the passing figures and impressions that will make this day my remembrance.

As I watch one perhaps newly retired from the Canadian forces joins nearby. Wearing jeans and hoodie. The baseball cap is creased…wet from this day. Medals at the chest, poppy above. This is today’s veteran and I believe the first I have seen that reflects those who will continue to be here after this visitor is no longer at this tree. There were others before him, my father who when unable to march with his own, brought camera instead and puttered amongst the crowd to take pictures. His camera, his lens became my view finder. And then of course the naval veteran…the last time I saw him…supported by others as his ratings cap took him across the horizon. This is how I can remember.

I move forward to amplify the sky as the bend of colour provides backdrop to the bronze soldier. Rainbows seem hopeful. I watch as others take their pictures…a sea of camera phones captures the phenomenon. I return to my tree and in the turning about, the vision has left us. I wonder what else might pass by or appear to capture the heart, the soul of all who gather? And then there are those who provide support. Another heartbeat in the home…those who seek only mutual love…and in an instance I am reminded of the parachuting dog Brian, and the Blitz rescue dog Rip. They too served.

Then too there are other reminders this day…we will remember them…we will remember those who served and those who died in this nation’s sacrifice. We can remember those left behind to remember and those left with memories they must carry every day. This is a day that we can help carry all those through to tomorrow, to always carry on, to always do our bit, to always remember.