Prince Philip

However irrational the monarchy seems, after watching, the day after the Duke of Edinburgh died,  the documentary "The Duke: In his own words" it was hard to see the monarchy haters in anything other than rather poor light.  Prince Philip was a powerhouse of energy, duty, innovation and improving works, from the solar panels he installed at Windsor in the sixties to of course the much lauded Duke of Edinburgh Award.

It was clear there was far more to the Duke than the simplistic portrayal of him in the press.  With trademark self-deprecation he had remarked: "I have become a caricature. There we are. I’ve just got to live with it.”  

It is a shame that it is only now that the tributes play that out that more than that caricature is seen: an able, modest, witty man.  He said some appalling, crass and shocking things but I am sure many enjoyed his description of the press as 'reptiles'.  

When asked what he was proudest of, he said with that modesty and the experience and realism of someone who has lived for a long time, the fact that "It's still going".  I think he meant the community of Windsor Castle and the park.  "People forget how much any organism needs to be kept going [...] because if you hadn't done it something worse might have occurred"

Within the limitations of his role, he steered his own course down to the last detail.  At the formal annual lunch for the Knights of the Garter the steward, issuing orders said: "We put the wine on all the tables with the water jugs and the beers we'll only put on the Duke's table because it's only the Duke who's going to have one."  I wondered if this famously masculine man, who devoted his life to the Queen's role, thought wine a bit affected for men. Probably he just preferred beer.

The Duke had been REME's colonel-in-chief. During his REME career dad met him about three times. 

"What was he like?"
"He was alright," said dad, sounding pretty bored. By the time I spoke to him only 24 hours after the Duke's death was announced he was fed up with the intense coverage.
"He was jovial, interested in people," he conceded.

At least where his immediate family is concerned, dad prefers to talk than listen. It's a reminder to us that he is still the boss. He is a mine of stories and told me a related one. It was in Bordon when he was a young captain. Prince Philip was visiting the garrison. These things were very formally organised down to the last detail. The instruction came out for meeting the Duke: "Officers will congregate in informal groups as shown in annexe A." Annexe A showed circles labelled Group A, Group B etc around the anteroom. Appendix 1 to annexe A showed the list of officers in each informal group.
"That's the way these things are done", said dad. With similar wry humour, he said, "I consider it a measure of achievement in my career that I moved from being a member of an informal group to an "informal group commander".

When he arrived the Duke confounded everyone. He was supposed to be shepherded around anticlockwise, meeting everyone but he turned, quite deliberately dad thought, and went the other way.

Later he met him at Rheindahlen on a visit to the corps at a reception in the headquarters. The Duke asked dad about his role. Dad said, "Well, I'm First Armoured Division, Commander Maint" and went on to introduce his colleagues.

"First Armoured Division, where's that?" asked the Duke.
Dad explained it was the area around Verden, Fallingbostel, Hohne.

"Ah yes, I've been to Fallingbostel," said the Duke. Fallingbostel could be endlessly cold and bleak and was not a popular posting. Dad nearly said, but thought better of it "Yes, the soldiers know is effing b."

"That's too bad," I said. he probably would have liked that.

"He probably would have," agreed dad.

St George's House at Windsor was an idea of the Duke's.  Along with the former Dean of Windsor the Duke "converted some old staff quarters into a centre dedicated to exploring society's greatest challenges".  It was a place for movers and shakers who might not ordinarily meet to talk together privately.  Chatham House Rules were the only condition.  The interviewer commented that "It's a very dynamic body in a very ancient setting," got a bit mixed up with his point saying it seemed to work very well but wasn't the juxtaposition a bit odd.  The Duke,  with the refreshing plain speaking for which he is famous remarked as if to a slightly slow student: "Yes but walls don't dominate the inhabitants. When I come here I don't become medieval. It's ridiculous.  I'm still who I am.  The fact that we live in old walls doesn't make a blind bit of difference."

I felt sorry for him when Queen Victoria's mausoleum came up:

"Maybe we can stop here sir?"

"With what end in view?"

"To talk about the mausoleum and..."

"A mauoleum's a mausoleum! There's not much you can say about it."

"I just think it would be a good way to take a picture of it and you.  Would that be alright sir?  Very quickly?"

It was clear that was the point:  the Duke and death.  But he conceded, chuckling. 

"What would you like to be your lasting legacy?"

"Would you go through life trying to make a legacy?" he replied, laughing.  "No, I mean I think to try and create a memorial to yourself while you're alive is slightly indecent I think. I'd rather other people decided what legacy I'd left, I mean I'm not trying to create one.  Life's going to go on after me.  If I can make life marginally more tolerable for the people who come afterwards, or even of the time, I'd be delighted."

His understated humour was evident when talking about the Military Knights of Windsor whose role it is to pray for the royal family and the Knights of the Order of the Royal Garter.  

Dad had served with another REME officer who had become a military knight upon retirement from the army.  David commanded one of the REME schools at Arborfield when dad was commanding the garrison there.  Dad recalled a long and boring day he'd spent at the corps small arms shooting competition. David came in to see him and dad remarked, that small arms shooting must be the most boring spectator sport going.
"Not a chance," said David, "I'm chair of the army's Night Orienteering Club."

Prince Philip, a formal naval officer seemed to rather like the thought that the Naval Knights, who had the Military Knights' job at Windsor previously, were evidently none too saintly and were kicked out in the eighteenth century for bad behaviour.  He wasn't so sure whether the current knights actually do pray, prompting the question:  "Do you feel adequately prayed for ?"  With a grin, he replied, "Oh, quite adequately, yeah".  

But his real thoughts about the Knights were ever practical:  it was a bit of pageantry and the fact that they bring life to the part of the castle where they live.  Later, talking about the Knights of the Garter procession he mentioned pageantry again "Rationally it's lunatic but I mean in practice everyone enjoys it, I think" which seemed to rather preclude the question that might have been asked: "Is pageantry important?"  

Would he have gone so far as to question whether the institution he was part of was fairly ludicrous?  For a man who seemed to dislike fuss and ceremony he was a key part of the biggest ceremonial institution of them all.  Did he recognise the contradiction?  He was from a different era, after all.  In the interview he referred to himself "in the twentieth century," meaning now, before making the correction.  In 1901, only twenty years before his birth, all but four of Europe's nations were monarchies. Still, here was a seemingly very rational man caught by circumstance really in an institution he very possibly thought as ludicrous as the pageantry he supported. Why?  Maybe just because he joined it for love and had to make the best of it.

Dad remarked that "One very good reason for the monarchy's existence is that it is the focus of loyalty for the armed forces, whereas in other countries it's parliament. Ask a soldier to whom do you owe your loyalty? And the answer will be: To the queen. That's a huge safety net and it's why the UK is stable."
"Well I don't know about that last point," I said. "We're not a nation of hotheads." 
 "If any Prime Minister tried to seize power", he went on, "because of the army's loyalty he probably would not succeed."

I paused over the "he" and let it go.  

"But," he continued, "A lot of them have made a mess of the rest of it: incompetent, make stupid mistakes, can't stay married..."
"Can't stay married? Isn't that bit intolerant? You sound like Prince Philip."
"Well, good. They have a lot more space to live with each other than you or I or anyone else. They can put up with any difficulties they have. Plenty of them made a big mess of it."  I considered the Duke might have agreed.
"Perhaps Charles did the right thing separating from Diana, finally making the right choice for himself?" 

I knew this would catch because the folks weren't Diana fans, especially after that doe-eyed interview.
"Well, perhaps."

"But you can't have it both ways, dad."

"What do you mean?" he said irascibly, probably wanting to get back to the sport.  "I'm not having anything any way."

"You can't say one the one hand that they should have stayed married and on the other that Charles eventually made the right choice with Camilla."

"They all should have got it right in the first place. I've managed it and I have far less space to live with my wife. Why can't they?"
"Maybe you were lucky in your wife...."
"No, she was lucky with me."