Now the evenings really are drawing in; a drought, a hosepipe ban, long sunny evenings, the thud of leather on willow, picnics on The Downs and Airshows. Sadly becoming just a fading memory. But far more dramatic than all that, are the scenes unfolding before our very eyes as the coffin of Her Majesty The Queen leaves Buckingham Palace on a gun carriage, amidst tremendous pomp and circumstance. What a shame that the BBC couldn’t find commentators who have the faintest idea of military matters, considering so much of the ceremonial involves all arms of the Services. It’s just howler after howler, too many to mention, lead by senior presenter Huw Edwards, who is clueless. The organisation and presentation is so immaculate, clearly prepared over many years, it’s a shame our National Broadcaster is not at the same level. I suppose the truth is that when you don’t know much, you don’t know how little you know!
I think I can lay claim to a relatively unusual possession; in fact two possessions. When you are commissioned into the armed forces, you receive a very elegant and formal scroll. After a preamble it says: “We, reposing especial Trust and Confidence in your Loyalty, Courage, and good Conduct, do by these Presents Constitute and Appoint you to be an Officer in Our Royal Air Force…”etc. It’s too long to reprise the whole thing but it ends : “Given at Our Court, at St James’s the Twenty third day of June 1970 in the Nineteenth Year of Our Reign”. The document is personally signed at the top by “Elizabeth R”. In the Nineteenth Year of Our Reign. Who could have known then that it was less than one third of her reign? I was 19, wet behind the ears, impressionable, cocky, unsure in many ways of what I wanted and where I was going, but the RAF taught me so much in terms of standards, self-discipline, comradeship, selflessness, loyalty, respect, looking out for others, as well as having fun and living life to the full. For three years I served on the Queen’s Colour Squadron of whom we have seen plenty in the last few days. We did Public Duties at Buckingham Palace, St James’s Palace, The Tower of London and Windsor Castle. It was a huge privilege and we had a ball. Just over nine years later I received a second commissioning document, also personally signed by Elizabeth R as I transitioned smoothly from Flight Lieutenant to Captain in the Army Air Corps, finally satisfying the urge to “slip the surly bonds of Earth and dance the skies on laughter-silvered wings”. It’s certainly not unique to have served in two separate Services, but it is quite unusual. For years those two documents remained scrolled up in their original tubes, but a year or two back I had them nicely framed and they now adorn a quiet wall. Suddenly they seem to have rather more significance somehow. It’s been very interesting listening to many of the interviews from those that have queued for hours to walk past Her Majesty’s coffin in Westminster Hall. So many say that She represented all the qualities of loyalty, respect, service and courage that seem to be alien to younger generations. I know that my son has shown very little interest in watching the extraordinary ceremonial or learning anything about it and what it all means. Sad. I can guarantee that there isn’t one serviceman or woman, carrying out what are sometimes quite onerous and physically demanding duties this week who would rather be anywhere else. Her Majesty really was the keystone that held our arch together, the figurehead that we all looked up to with enormous respect, admiration and I think love. It is remembering those happy times (was it really fifty years ago?!) that brings a tear or three to the eye. I carried The Queen’s Colour of the Royal Air Force (not a “banner” or “standard” or “insignia” that Huw Edwards called it when the Queen’s coffin arrived at RAF Northolt) outside Buckingham Palace as part of a Tri-Service Guard of Honour (not an Honor Guard; that’s American, Johnny Dymond, BBC) for Her Majesty’s Silver Jubilee celebrations in 1977. She rode past us in the splendid Gold Coach that Dick Whittington must have fantasised about. About the same time, I marched the old Queen’s Colour off as Her Majesty presented a new one in front of an enormous parade at RAF Finningley in Yorkshire. Days to be proud of and remember with fondness.
Two final thoughts before “my wife and I” retreat to the woods with a bouncy whippet. Did you know that there’s a difference between the motif of a King’s crown and a Queen’s? Every cap badge, sweater and anything elase that features a crown will need to be changed. Google it and you will see the difference. Secondly, everything I can think of has immediately gone from the “Queen’s” this or that to the “King’s”. As it did in reverse when the Queen ascended the throne. Except “Kingdom”. Why did it not become the United Queendom? I’m amazed the looney left and the bra-burners didn’t go to war on that one! Too late now.
ADayInTheStrifeOf 