Page 11 - police world Edition 1 2013

And so they came, in what seemed like a never-
ending river of craft; craft of all shapes and
sizes, and progressively getting bigger. The
barrage of cadets, each open boat bearing the
flag of a Commonwealth nation, and all trying to
maintain their position in the order of
procession. They all looked to have made the
maximum of effort with their appearance, an
effort that was being thwarted by the weather. Of
those who were closest, a look and air of pride
was clearly visible on their faces and in their
postures. The weather may be in charge of the
day but they were in front of their Queen, their
countrymen and the world and they would not
be prevented or diverted from what was
expected of each of them.
The “Little Boats”, famous for their assistance in
the evacuation of the British Expeditionary Force
and French army from the beaches of Dunkirk in
June 1940, came next. Onboard each were the
veterans of that campaign whose faces showed
the same degree of pride that was evident on all
the Pageant participants.
A vessel carrying a band, orchestra or some
form of musical entertainment preceded each
flotilla and the massed crowd around us cheered
each of these. The rain failed to affect their
performances and “wet and bedraggled” means
the same regardless of whether the performer is
in full opera costume, military uniform or
something a little closer fitting.
Historical references abounded not just in the
vessels and locations along the river route but
also the music being played as Handel’s Water
Music was amongst the chosen pieces. More
than just the various flags of the individual
nations represented the Commonwealth as
vessels of significance and individuality took
their place amongst the many others there.
With each passing flotilla the vessel sizes
increased, their carrying capability increased,
but their speed was kept at a respectable “dead
slow”. We were without our usual movement on
the Upper Pool and certainly not missing it.
But all good things come to an end and they had
certainly saved the best until last. Following a
rousing rendition of God Save The Queen from
the bedraggled choir on Symphony,
accompanied by the surrounding crowds,
fireworks signalled the closure of Tower Bridge’s
bascules and the start of about 90 seconds of
noise upon whatever was to hand to
commemorate the end of an amazing Pageant,
the likes of which will not be seen again by
anyone alive today.
Thankfully the last of my guests arrived about
30 minutes before the national anthem and the
end of the Pageant and were thus able to join us
with an appropriate celebratory bottle of
champagne.
We’d had rain pouring into the wheelhouse and
Jude, who had stood outside through the whole
event, was soaked to the skin. The moisture on
my face was more through pride than the rain.
Throughout all of this, under an awning on a
boat across the river, our 86-year-old Queen had
stood and waved, smiled, enjoyed and glowed
with amazement and pride.
Over the years I have seen national pride at a
variety of events but none equalled what we
witnessed that day. Whether this pride was
buoyed up by the event itself, the natural bowl
shape of the arena we were in, or the huge size
of the crowds - I don’t know for sure. What I do
know is that all these people had turned out to
cheer their monarch, show their pride in her
reign and celebrate the stability brought to our
nation by her continued rule.
“Long live the Queen.”
Article
11 Police World Vol 58 No.1 2013
Glorianna
The Spirit of Chartwell