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such a lasting impression on me, I will treasure the memories for ever. When we finally got back to Wellington Barracks the first thing everybody wanted to do was get out of their uniforms. It wasn't a particularly hot day, but we were all drenched with sweat and absolutely exhausted. We finally made it back to Frimley at around 6:00pm and were all still on an absolute high. As a treat we all ordered pizzas and had a lovely evening together. This too was a really special moment, our small group of people enjoying each others company having shared such a unique experience. Tuesday 20 September We all travelled back to our respective schools on the Tuesday. This was when reality set back in and it all felt a little bit strange, a sense of disconnection. We had just taken part in something that was so momentous, we were still on a high, yet back at school, as it had to be, it was quickly back to business as usual. Though we were warmly welcomed back, no one had felt the event as emotionally as we had; it was all a little deflating. It was the same with family and friends and while they were super proud of what we had achieved, they had simply not been swept along in that unique and so very special moment in the same way as we had been. As I reflect now I smile at the memory of the whole event; the training, the rehearsals and the procession itself for Queen Elizabeth. What a special day and how grateful I am that I was able to be with the College cadets and take part in it. Thankfully, I'm also pleased to report that many friends, family and College parents did capture us on photograph and film as our little group marched along in the procession after all. An experience that the boys and I will be able to share and treasure for the rest of our lives.
Monday 19 September: The Queen’s Funeral 2:00am breakfast, a bacon bap. We left Frimley and picked up our police escort on the way to Wellington Barracks, arriving just before 4:00am. Then, after a quick sleep we were in our best uniforms again. We paraded outside Westminster Abbey just before 11:00am. An awe inspiring sight, a parade of thousands with representatives from almost every British regiment and Commonwealth country. We were in the procession group, behind the gun carriage and had to be completely focused on the job we had come to do. As we stepped off, all we could see were the people lining the streets, the huge crowds, five, six, seven or more deep all along the route. It seemed that everyone was recording the event on their phones. TV news crews were everywhere. I became acutely aware that I was being watched by an unimaginable number of people all around the world. My mantra is don't mess it up, keep the focus, keep the pace, don’t look around, don't get distracted. I had told all my family and friends to look out for me on TV. I thought that someone was bound to see me and that later my phone would be full of texts saying that I had been spotted. But nobody texted a ‘we saw you’. Our group were always just out of shot. We were told we would be 'just behind' the gun carriage and royal party on the march - and we were - albeit about 300 yards behind. The funeral procession itself was a blur; intense, physically and mentally demanding, profound, moving, exhausting and exhilarating. Without doubt the overwhelming emotion I felt was pride. Huge pride that I was there representing the RAF and the College and just being a part of it all; and proud too of the boys who were giving such an outstanding account of themselves. The scale and splendour of the funeral was simply immense. Three hours that had never felt so short, or made
emergency services, who were much in evidence, would always step in. We also had to make sure that we drank enough so that we didn't cramp. Holding quite a rigid position puts muscles under a lot of stress and I was concerned about hydrating properly. I made sure I was having a lot of electrolyte tablets beforehand. Thursday 15 September – Sunday 18 September After the night rehearsal and by the time we got back to Frimley we had been up for 29 hours, so Thursday morning was spent sleeping. But we were back out on the parade ground again by the afternoon. Friday, Saturday and Sunday were all taken up with more practice; we were definitely improving. It was very rewarding to see everyone coming together; each movement was becoming more natural, as a group we were much more co-ordinated. I think we all got a bit competitive as well, so that helped too. Not every branch of the armed forces march in the same way, but now we all had to move identically. In addition, we were all having to modify established procedures to slow march to the pace set by the funeral gun carriage, which moves extremely slowly. At first, I thought my feet would hurt but it was my back and shoulders that were the most painful. When marching, the top half of the body is quite rigid as the legs and arms move in time to the music. It was a really uncomfortable, forced position. Doing this all day, every day for a week certainly took its toll. And doing drill requires intense concentration, switch off for a moment and you lose the pace. Step out of time and you will definitely get noticed. Originally, we were told that Sunday would be free to recover from what had been a tough few days; time to get ourselves ready, prepare uniforms and polish boots, but our ‘rest day’ soon turned into yet another day of rehearsals. It was all pretty full on.
It seemed both crazy and exciting but this was to be our only chance to ‘walk the course’ before the day itself. We set off from Frimley at 10.00pm and headed for Heston services on the M4. The car park was absolutely packed full with military vehicles all waiting for their police escorts into Central London. By now, everyone was resplendent in their best ceremonial uniforms - 'Number 1 Dress' - worn only on the most formal of occasions. We got to Wellington Barracks at midnight and the rehearsal started around 3:00am, the busy streets of London were now completely deserted apart from the military, police and emergency services; it was really quite eerie. As the start time approached we all became acutely aware of just how momentous this event was going to be. Instead of parading in isolation around Pirbright, we were pitched into the thick of it. Thousands of personnel, hundreds of horses, the sombre music and all the associated military hardware stretching out for what seemed like miles along the most iconic streets of London. It was unnerving to see just how enormous the procession actually was. Quite an assault on the senses. Under the London night lights, as the music echoed around the still streets, I got thoroughly immersed into doing my bit. It also served to resonate with me why we were actually there. I frequently felt quite emotional, never more so than when we marched through the narrow arches and out onto the wide open space of Horse Guards Parade. The rehearsal also gave us an opportunity to address the practical challenges of being isolated from any facilities for hours on end. There is a fine balance to be struck between eating and drinking enough and needing the toilet. We had to eat enough to avoid keeling over; particularly as we were told, if anyone went down to just step over them. We were not allowed to break the procession at all. The
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