... notable events : Cold Iron and an Obligation bound in Chains of Steel

"I, in the presence of these my betters and my equals in my Calling, bind myself upon my Honour and Cold Iron that, to the best of knowledge and power, I will not henceforward suffer or pass, or be privy to the passing of, Bad Workmanship or Faulty Material in aught that concerns my works before mankind as an Engineer, or in my dealing with my own Soul before my Maker.

MY TIME I will not refuse; my Thought I will not grudge; my Care I will not deny towards the hounour, use, stability and perfection of any works to which I may be called to set my hand.

MY FAIR WAGES for that work I will openly take, My Reputation in my Calling I will honourably guard; but I will in no way go about to compass or wrest judgment or gratification from any one with whom I may deal. And further, I will early and warily strive my uttermost against professional jealousy or the belittling of my working-colleagues in any field of their labour.

FOR MY ASSURED FAILURES and derelictions, I ask pardon beforehand of my betters and my equals in my Calling here assembled; praying that in the hour of my temptations, weakness and weariness, the memory of this my Obligation and of the company before whom it was entered into, may return to me to aid, comfort and restrain."

... so went the pledge on that cold dreadfully rainy Vancouver day. The Obligation is part of the Ritual of the Calling of an Engineer which was written in 1923 by Rudyard Kipling in response to a request from a group of Canadian engineers, administered by the Corporation of the Seven Wardens Inc. who are custodians to the ceremonies and of the 24 camps nationwide in Canada.

It was 1995 and graduation was in sight. Young engineers, all of us, eager to make our mark on the world. "ERTW" they would say, or "Engineers Rule the World" ignorant we were at the time since in reality, Engineers slave for THOSE who rule the world.

We entered the great hall in a somber procession, the weight of the moment upon us. In hushed voices we threaded the empty seats to find one to lay our bums. A murmur rose from the front ranks as more and more of us noticed the large steel chains which ran around hall, one for every row of chairs, to congregate in a mass of steel locked around the neck of a blacksmith's anvil on the central dias at the front. For those who had taken light of the moment, the sight of the cold steel chains as they filed into the hall silenced them all.

Our Iron Rings had arrived weeks before. We had been warned not to put them on but I doubt there was a single person amongst us who did not at least try it on for size, or to preen in front of a mirror to see how it fitted and weighed on his or her hand. With rings in hand, we all found our seats, picking up the card that was on the chair and very expectantly sat down. Thoughts of magical ceremonies and of witchcraft ran through our heads as we kicked, nudged and fingered the heavy chains on the floor. Few of us had any prior knowledge of the ceremony or any inkling of what was in store for us as the Ceremony of the Ritual of the Calling of an Engineer was one that was and still is shrouded in secrecy and all publicity was shunned.

Speeches were made, our excitement rising as the true magnitude of our obligations and of our duties now began to creep upon us. Nothing much of what was said that day registered in my mind. I only knew that I stood at certain times and I sat at certain times, but all the time my newly minted Iron Ring was clutched tightly in my hand until it was time to put it on.

Standing, we were asked to slip the Iron Ring half-way onto the last finger of our working hand, in my case, being right handed, the Iron Ring went half-way up the smallest finger of my right hand. And there were stood and waited as representatives of the Seven Wardens circled the hall, pushing the ring all the way onto our fingers. There were nervous giggles and endless fidgetting as some rings proved harder than others to push in but eventually we all now wore our Iron Rings, the first step in our journey as Canadian engineers.

Next came the steel chains. We were told to pick up and hold the chains. This was done accompanied by more nervous chuckles and a couple of snide comments. With a fist full of cold steel, and card in our free hand, we then recited the Obligation of the Ritual of the Calling of an Engineer.
"I, in the presence of these my betters and my equals in my Calling,
bind myself upon my Honour and Cold Iron that, to the best of knowledge
and power, I will not..." we chorused after the Seven Wardens on the raised dias until we reached the last line. A complete silence held sway in the room as the enormity and weight of the occasion began to rest heavily onto our young hearts.

This obligation was not an oath except where one makes it so, but rather a statement of intent, to do our best and to do our duties as engineers. Legend has it that the Ritual and Obligation was first conceived after the collapse of an iron bridge in the early years of the 20th century and that the first sets of Iron Rings were made from the scrapped iron of the collapse bridge. I'm still not sure how true this legend is but I was rather thankful that Iron Rings today are not made of iron but rather of stainless steel since I wasn't too keen on having a rusty ring around my finger after a few years working in the humid tropics. Legend also has it that an engineer once bound, was now a slave to his profession as the Iron Ring would not tolerate any challenges to it's dominance of the individual, and will cut any gold wedding ring that is placed on the fourth finger of the hand and that he must therefore be prepared for just such an eventuality.

In any case, we were warned that if at anytime we wished to free ourselves of the obligations or if we no longer feel that we can maintain the high standards expected of the Calling, we were to return our Iron Rings to the Corporation of the Seven Wardens and live once again free of duty and responsibilities. Not many of us gave that warning much thought that day, but for those of us who continue to wear it, the ring remains a constant reminder to us all, and identifies us as one and the same. I still wear my Iron Ring, having hardly ever left the little finger of my working hand since that fateful day in 1995, and for the foreseeable future, not likely to ever leave it, even if the memories of the day I took my Obligation receeds far into the distant past.