The Queen is dead. Long live the King!
Elizabeth II died yesterday, and I did not think it would have any effect on me, given that I am not generally in favour of the monarchy for a wide range of reasons. Instead, I found myself drawn into everything; the obituaries, the stories, and her history. In the evening I went out to dinner with the Dryad, and most of the evening was spent talking about Her Majesty, and listening to one another tell our own stories, give our own takes.
Queen Elizabeth has been a part of my life for all my life, along with the majority of my countryfolk. She's taken us through the latter part of the Austerity Years, though social change, through the Falklands War, the Malayan Emergency, the Suez Crisis, Covid and so much more. She's been a diplomat abroad, a source of stability and comfort at home. She's greeted fifteen Prime Ministers, entertained and visited goodness knows how many world leaders. She trained as a mechanic during WWII, something that still impresses me. No excuses, no bone spurs, she wanted to serve and by Golly, she did.
I wish I could say that I'd met her, but I cannot. The closest I've come was being part of an honour guard for her when she was travelling through Rutland. I was chosen as part of a Boy Scout guard, and if memory serves, saluted her as she drove through Oakham. I remember her smiling at us all. I was perhaps eleven or twelve and still recall the feeling of pride that I had as a boy serving his Queen.
I have met King Charles III though. Of course, he was The Prince of Wales then. It was during one of his walkabouts when I was working in Nottingham and I was on my lunch break. I thought it would be good to go out and see him and I somehow found myself in his path. He came up and shook my hand, and as he struck me as having a good sense of humour, I told him I was on lunch from the bank and that if he wished, I would gladly cash him a cheque. He laughed. Nice fellow.
My final story is not really mine to tell. It belongs to a customer of mine who was working for BBC Television in the 1950s, developing technologies for outside broadcasts. His first big test was the Coronation. He showed me photographs of the setup and some of the ceremony. We talked a lot about it, and he remembered the music, which prompted me to hunt YouTube for Zadok the Priest. I found footage from the broadcast, and share it with you now: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y3qH0rpwwe4.
Oh boy, but this is complicated. Am I sad? Yes, surprisingly enough I am. Will I mourn with the rest of 'em? No, I'm done for the noo. Do I look forward to the King's Coronation? Yes, yes I do. I watched his first speech as King, and was moved by it. He's clearly missing his mother, and rightly so. I recommend watching it too: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y9EUPrd_oJw.
Of course, I have now set myself the task of making the necessary changes regarding the British national anthem. Currently titled "God Save The Queen" that's no longer the case. I've proposed moving everything to British National Anthem and linking to that, we shall see what the Cabal of Editors thinks.
All that is done. I noded British National Anthem, and someone kindly did the rest.
Finally, on a funny note, I realise that British soccer players are going to struggle to relearn the words to the National Anthem. I wish them luck.
God Save The King!
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