The tail plumage of the huia bird - now lost to us - is something rare and special and to wear it is considered by Māori to be a great honour. By incorporating the police chevron into the huia tail feather, the design of the pin symbolises the honouring of someone special, now lost to the police.
These, mostly older, New Zealanders, walk quietly to an agreed place to meet and remember. Maybe a piper will play, a sound that never fails to stir the emotions. To me, it is something akin to watching a haka, causing strong memories and pride.
September 29 is the feast day of the Archangel Michael, the patron saint of all police worldwide.
After a memorial service, most attendees will adjourn for refreshments and a chat then make their way home for another year.
This year those who died in the past 12 months, both women and men, serving and retired, were also remembered. Sadly, one sees many old friends, remembering them as young people, just people, just men and women from all New Zealand communities who took an oath to their Queen to serve without favour or affection, malice or ill-will until they were legally discharged as constables.
No matter what rank we wore or what designation we had as police, we were all just constables, even the commissioner. The ancient public office of constable goes back as far as Roman times.
Historically, the title comes from the Latin comes stabuli (attendant to the stables, literally count of the stable) and originated from the Roman Empire; originally, the constable was the officer responsible for keeping the horses of a lord or monarch.
In later times, constable became the officer charged with the defence of a castle or town, and in modern times a law enforcement officer.
Thirty-three of our police have died by homicide on duty since 1886, the start of our modern police service. Killed at the hands of criminals. At least a further 67 have died of injuries or illness suffered on duty. Thirteen police died during the 1918 flu epidemic along with thousands of other New Zealanders. All men, no women. Just a reflection of the times. Women did not enter the police as constables until the early 1940s and only in small numbers until recent times.
Recent research by a New Zealand police historian indicates that for each of the 33 deaths by homicide there are at least five or six officers who suffered injuries at the hands of others - gunshots, stabbings, beatings and motor vehicle assaults - and who could have died, but somehow survived with life-long disability and in pain. They hung on, fought through, stayed with us.
Whanganui police have, in the past 82 years, lost two serving members due to accidents on duty.
Constable Neils Godfrey French Bernsten drowned, aged 25, on February 9, 1941, while on guard duty at Castlecliff at the shipwreck of the Port Bowen which ran aground on July 19, 1939.
Detective Anthony Raymond Harrod, aged 43, died from injuries sustained falling from a helicopter strop during a cannabis recovery operation near Waitōtara on December 17, 1990.
For me, it is a day of quiet reflection. I worked with, or knew, quite a few of the men who died on duty in the past 53 years. I remember them and their families. The good times, the laughter, the tough times, the tears.
Rest in peace, my brothers and sisters in blue. Your journey is done, your duty is over. 10/0.
