Last night, I was down to play for my Club in the Embra-wide knock-out tournament. Really did not want to because I would much rather have been somewhere else. I felt, however, that I owed it to my fellow members to be there for them. Then, the opposition scratched with an hour to go and I was free to be where I wanted in the first place. Made it to a vantage point at the last moment.
To explain, today is, as you should all know, Armed Forces Day in the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland. A very new introduction. Don’t care what anybody else thinks about the idea.It means a lot to me as an Army brat.
All my earliest memories are service-related from Singapore onwards. Dad and I left the Army when I was 11 but I will never forget or regret those formative years. We all make our own path through life. I am happy that I was lucky enough to have set off on that path as the son of my father and I am proud of the service that his comrades and he gave to my country.
Anyway, the main event of this very new Armed Forces Day moves around each year, presumably on non-discriminatory and diversity grounds. This year they have given it to Embra and we have a weekend of celebrations.
The big event is tomorrow and the parade of 2,500 serving and veteran personnel down the Royal Mile. Tonight was Royal Navy and Royal Air Force night. Not completely riveting for me in all fairness. Or so I thought.
The length and breadth of the city, crowds gathered to watch the Red Arrows in a half hour display over the Forth. Breathtaking, Not that you could tell from my inept photographs thereof. Don’t care again. You really had to be there. Which I was, even if a wee bit late.
They go, they come back.
Then the Fire Brigade roared up. Well, actually sort of sidled up. No reason to be there and clearly not on an emergency. I reckon that they were all sitting in the Fire Station, twiddling their thumbs and with nothing to do. One of them must have suggested a wee trip to watch the display and they all bought the idea. Don’t blame them.
All good things must come to an end but it was magic before it was over.
Queued for half an hour to get back on to the main road but then, on an impulse, turned away from home and drove to the top of the multi storey to take a photo that always matters to me. That photo was rubbish too. I blame the camera and Mrs M for giving it to me for my 60th.
‘Britannia’ in the foreground and ‘HMS Portland’ in the background. Both Weegie-built but I forgive them their origin. It’s’ Britannia’ that matters. In the 1950’s, Dad and Mum took us to the West Coast of Scotland for our summer holidays. Every time, we made an effort as a family to watch HM the Queen and her family sailing up past us on the ‘Britannia’ on their holidays as they did every summer in those days. I treasure the memory of lying on a lonely cliff on Seil waving frantically at them on their after deck and seeing them and theirs waving back at me and mine.
Boadicea's Chariot 
I never felt so sorry for HM, nor hated Blair so much, as at the decommissioning service for Britannia.
Likewise, Sheona
OZ
Thirded. When i was at the embassy in Peking, we had two Royal visits, Princess Margaret and HM herself. There were a number of highlights to HM’s visit for me, starting a couple of weeks before with a recce to the great wall where an enquiry as to ‘restrooms,’ should HM require them, directed us to a tin shack with a wooden seat over a pit full of excrement…
On her visit to the Embassy to meet the staff, my second daughter was chosen to present HM with the obligatory flowers. (I wasn’t there at the time – gotta pic somewhere which I’ll try to dig out – I was in Shanghai helping with the arrangements for the reception of the Royal Yacht and escorts.)
In Shanghai HM congratulated me on my daughter’s performance when I was presented to her – one of the little touches that makes her a bit special. I also made her a cuppa in a Shanghai Consulate mug, in the kitchen of the consulate. She sat in the corner quite happily and was delighted that she was getting tea made from a NAAFI teabag.
Another highlight was a visit to one of the escorts where the hospitality of the PO’s Mess was overwhelming – so much so that the Naval Attache had to carry me home… Church service on the Yacht was obligatory, and also quite special, as were the bacon butties, and a pint, or two, (not allowed to import bacon into China at that time,) in the PO’s mess on the Yacht afterwards.
On the eve of departure I was on the Yacht again while HM entertained all the local bigwigs from Shanghai, plus the Foreign Minister and other govt types, (the main banquets had taken place in the Great Hall of the People in Peking, and I was at HM’s do there, too.) HM Jollies beat the retreat on the quayside to end the evening, which brought a tear to many an eye – mine included 🙂
On the actual day of departure there was a minor hiccup when the Chinese border policeman on guard at the bottom of the gangway refused to let the gangway be drawn up because HM hadn’t had her passport stamped! negotiations fell to the Defence Attache, and I was his interpreter. It took about 20 minutes and the summoning of the Head of the Border Police in Shanghai to convince the wee chappie that HM does not, in fact, HAVE a passport 🙂
Fond memories of the Yacht, and her crew, indeed.
Oooh. Love the Red Arrows, Mr M. Getting goosebumps just thinking about them. They used to be based at RAF Kemble, in Glos you know. I remember being out on the airfield as they did a low-fly over. I ducked! 🙂
I was in Singapore 54/55 (RAF Seletar) – left to become a RAF ‘brat’ (age 16)!
btw, we get free shows from the Red Arrows every year in Feb/March when they are based at RAF Akrotiri for their pre-season work-up. The training always ends up with a full show off Limassol seafront 😀