For Queen and country, Jubilee celebration begins in style

Tar-um, tar-um went the drums of the Royal Marine Band, and with a mighty blast of back-up brass the great Diamond Jubilee was officially under way.

Yesterday's (Saturday's) mile-long military parade through Windsor was spectacular in its own right, but it was no more than the signal for the big celebration to begin. By the time this show is fully rolled out it will have reached into every corner of the realm, caught the imagination of millions and, if all goes to plan, carry our ancient monarchy to yet unscaled heights of popularity.

Chintzy Windsor, the nearest thing Queen Elizabeth has to a home town, was a natural place for proceedings to begin, but also an important gauge of the nation's capacity to celebrate at a time of gloom and uncertainty.

The evidence was reassuring. Around the castle, the streets were ablaze with Union flags, fluttering along the pavements, hanging stiffly from candy-striped poles and draped stadium-style over the crowd barriers.

This, fortunately, was as far as the sports event similarities went, for the people who turned out yesterday instinctively understood that this was essentially a day of tribute rather than partying.

At its heart was the remarkable compact between the sovereign and Britain's Armed Forces. The Chief of the Defence Staff, General Sir David Richards, put it like this: "Her Majesty's support and encouragement over the years has created a very special bond between the monarch and her Forces. That link is felt by all those who have the privilege to wear Her Majesty's uniform."

In yesterday's events there was a recognition that the relationship went some way even beyond that. The Queen's husband, the Duke of Edinburgh, served in the Forces during the Second World War - before 85 per cent of the current British population was born.

Their son, the Duke of York, fought in the Falklands, and their grandson, Prince Harry, served in Afghanistan. From these generations of service has grown a particularly close understanding of the military.

So when 2,500 men and women from all three services marched yesterday - with no politicians or celebrities daring to crash the event - they were not merely saluting their sovereign but celebrating their own.

In this sense it was a particularly British occasion - rich in precision and pageantry, without jingoism, flashiness or hint of macho posturing. Other countries would have thrown in a few tank columns and guided missile launchers, stuck the top brass at the front and put the head of state on a podium in full sight of the masses.

Here the focus was on the ordinary servicemen and women, mostly young, many with active service under their belts and happy to be simply paying their respects. The Queen watched it all from a modestly appointed dais inside the castle.

First came the Navy, representing ships, submarines and the Fleet Air Arm; then the Army, led by the Household Cavalry, and with the Gurkha Rifles drawing rousing cheers; and then the RAF, which had already put in a sneak appearance with a fly-past of Tornados.

A good 15 minutes later, into central Windsor came the Queen, dressed in green with the Duke at her side, in a vintage Bentley. In its uproarious appreciation, the crowd seemed to be recognising the elegantly modest touch of following after her troops. I'm not here, she seemed to be saying, to overshadow anyone. Least of all those who wear my uniform.

The Queen knows her history. The tradition of a Forces tribute in a jubilee year goes back a long way. To celebrate Victoria's Diamond Jubilee in 1897, the Royal Navy - which in those days really did rule the waves - staged a colossal Fleet Review at Spithead, and a grand military tattoo was performed at Windsor. George V reviewed all three services for his Silver Jubilee in 1935.

Last week, the Governor of the Bank of England, Sir Mervyn King, did his best to poop the big party by suggesting that the country could not afford the Jubilee, and calculated that the public holidays involved could take half a per cent off the country's annual output. It is hard to imagine that the Queen, having deliberately kept everything low key, was amused by this analysis, but whatever her feelings there is no real need to worry.

All the signs suggest that the Jubilee is going to be a monster success. Current polls show that the monarchy is riding a wave of public support, with 80 per cent of Britons wanting it to reign on. Although some of this is down to the popularity of the Duchess of Cambridge and the success of last year's royal wedding, the 86-year-old Queen's personal approval ratings are off the graph.

For anyone in Windsor yesterday it was not hard to understand why. The tone was not of grandeur, but intimacy of a kind best expressed in what is called "the muster".

After the main parade, the soldiers, sailors and airman gathered inside a specially built arena near the castle for a close-quarters review by the Queen. Close, in this case meant a few feet. It was all down to historical design.

"The idea is for the young men and women to be able to look their Queen in the eye, and for her to look them in the eye," explained Air Vice Marshall David Murray, who spent 18 months organising the occasion. "It has to be intimate, and to symbolise the closeness of the relationship between the Queen and her Forces." In the Middle Ages, the muster served as a monarch's military calling card - a way of showing off to rival powers what they could bring to the battlefield. "In Tudor England the muster was a periodic assessment of a militia," explained Peter Craddick-Adams, a military historian. "Kings needed to know this because they were expected to lead their own troops into battle, although the last to do so was George II in 1743."

Although the Queen could not manage that, she still knew how to express her appreciation: "It is a tradition of very long standing that the sovereign, and members of the Royal family, are intimately associated with the Armed Forces and have been proud to serve in all three services," she declared. "We are very proud of the selfless service, and sacrifices made by servicemen and women and their families in recent years.

"It is very gratifying to celebrate and take pride in successful achievements, but the real test of character is the ability to maintain morale and a positive spirit in bad times as well as when things are going well."

By now, the excitement had switched to the air. A mass fly-past of planes old and modern was adorning a sky usually filled by Heathrow-bound airliners. There was a Lancaster bomber escorted by four Spitfires and followed by a procession of Harriers, Hawks and the RAF's Red Arrows. From here the Jubilee spreads out across the land. There will be grander events than this one, notably the Thames pageant in early June, but, more significantly, thousands of smaller ones. In her usual thorough, conscientious way, the Queen has been doing the groundwork for some time, touring the country, quietly encouraging the kinds of community events that help bring the nation together.

There will be street parties and commemorations and flower garden openings, but the nation's real appreciation of its Queen is best expressed in the words of the ordinary people who packed the streets of Windsor yesterday.

"I think, particularly at the moment, there's a realisation of what the Queen brings to the country," said Evan Myers, a retired GP from Henley. "In these difficult times people look to something that suggests certainty and continuity and purpose, and even if you are not a total monarchist it's hard to argue that the Queen doesn't give us all that."

Jim Towner, a 44-year-old former soldier from west London, came with his daughter, Annie, 16, who wants to join up, too. "It's not just look smart and salute," he said. "The services really do love the Queen, and you always know that behind the scenes she's working to make your life better."

Time to let the party begin, then. Right across the land. And whatever the cost.