Birkhall Undressed!

Tony Cunnane - author and pilot

Meeting the Queen Mother

It did not bear thinking about what the Red Arrows would do with pictures of Russ and me without trousers in a forest clearing if they got their hands on them!

No sooner had the Russian Aerobatic Team The Russian Knights settled in at Scampton in 1991, than Lieutenant General Nikolai Timofeyevich Antoshkin, Commander of the Air Force of the Moscow Military District, asked the Commandant of Central Flying School how he could deliver a personal gift to Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth The Queen Mother, Honorary Commandant-in-Chief of the RAF Central Flying School. He had had specially made a replica of a traditional highly ornate Russian samovar. The General clearly wished to deliver the gift himself but advisors at Buckingham Palace decided that it would be inappropriate for the Queen Mother to meet in person a very senior Russian, until a few days earlier Soviet, General. It was decided, however, that it would be acceptable for the Queen Mother to receive the gift itself. Time was short if the gift was to be delivered during the Russian Knights short visit to the UK especially as the Queen Mother was currently holidaying at one of her favourite residences, Birkhall House in the Balmoral Estate, in the far north east of Scotland

I was detailed to drive up to the north of Scotland overnight and deliver the gift to Sir Alistair Aird, the Comptroller of the Queen Mother’s household. The arrangements were quickly made. To share the long drive, I took with me Pilot Officer Russ Fraser, a young officer who was working for me temporarily while waiting for the next phase of his flying training. I had first met Russ when he was a cadet with the Royton Air Training Corps Squadron and I had gone to the Squadron on a staff inspection with Group Captain John McMinn. I told Russ that we would travel in comfortable civilian clothes but take our formal uniform with us so that we could change before entering the Balmoral Estate. There was just a possibility that we might meet someone important – perhaps even the Queen mother. Just in case, I briefed Russ on how to greet royalty.

After passing through the beautiful town of Ballater, only a few miles from Birkhall House, we turned into the narrow approach road and started looking for a suitably secluded place amongst the trees where we could change into uniform. We thought we had found the ideal place but, just as we were pulling into the side of the road, I noticed someone I took to be a British Telecom linesman working at the top of a telegraph pole. He waved cheerily at us and we drove on without stopping. A few hundred metres further on, out of sight of the telephone man, we pulled into a sizeable clearing on the side of the road. There was no-one in sight and so we got out of the car and quickly changed into uniform. We were expected at 1030 and we had about ten minutes to spare as we continued the drive along a winding avenue towards the house. Suddenly, after going round a sharp bend, we were brought to a halt facing someone we took to be a game-keeper. He was standing in the middle of the road and had a shot gun cradled in his arms. He came up to the car as I wound the window down.

‘You must be Squadron Leader Cunnane and Pilot Officer Fraser,’ he said, as he peered in. ‘We watched you getting changed!’

There was no-one else in sight so I have no idea who ‘we’ were. Somewhat abashed, and wondering where the hidden cameras were, we showed him our identity cards.

‘That man up the telegraph pole must have been one of the security guards, I suppose?’ I asked weakly, hoping fervently that he would be very discreet with any negatives or video footage. It did not bear thinking about what the Red Arrows would do with pictures of Russ and me without trousers in a forest clearing if they got their hands on them!

‘He might have been,’ grinned the game-keeper. ‘Keep right on for another hundred yards. You’ll come to a car park near the stables behind the house. Park there and Sir Alistair will meet you.’

He waved us on, still grinning broadly. We found a parking space and looked around. Sir Alistair Aird came out of the house almost immediately and introduced himself. We showed him the large box in the boot containing the highly ornate samovar.

‘Ah, it’s electric,’ he said thoughtfully, peering inside the container.

‘Yes sir,’ I replied. ‘The outside is a replica of a traditional Russian samovar but this is a modern electric version. You will see that General Antoshkin has had the emblems of the Russian Knights and the Red Arrows engraved on it as well as the Royal Cipher. We had the electrics checked over at Scampton. Our engineers recommend that you don’t permit the Queen Mother to plug it into the mains – it’s not safe.

‘I will certainly make sure that is passed on to the Housekeeper,’ said Sir Alistair gravely. ‘I think the best thing to do is place the samovar on a lace cloth on a small table out on the front lawn and then you can formally present it to Queen Elizabeth before the flypast. Would that be all right do you think?’

I replied that it certainly would be all right.

We were taken inside the house and given a cup of tea, served from a silver tea pot on a silver salver of course. We then asked to go to a bathroom so that we could make ourselves look tidy. In the meantime one of the staff found a suitable lace cloth and table and placed them on the front lawn. When we had combed our hair, I having decided that we would not wear our service hats, we joined Sir Alistair on the lawn where he was carefully placing the samovar on the table. I then saw that a small lady was approaching from the house. With a shock, I realised that it was the Queen Mother. She must have been waiting inside the house until we came out onto the lawn. Sir Alistair formally presented me and then Russ to the Queen Mother and I had to explain all about the Russian Knights and General Antoshkin’s gift. I lifted the lid, showed the Queen Mother the internal electrics, and recommended that she did not allow her staff to plug it in.

‘It is so kind of you to make that long drive from Lincolnshire just to present me with this gift,’ said the Queen Mother. ‘How long is it before the flypast is due?’

‘They will be overhead at 11.30, Ma’am,’ I replied. ‘The Red Arrows are leading and they’re always on time.’

‘I know. I do so enjoy watching them. We have about 20 minutes to wait then. Would you like me to show you my private gardens?’

The Queen Mother led the way across the lawn, down a few steps, over a ha-ha, and into her private garden. I suddenly noticed that Sir Alistair had silently withdrawn from the scene and the three of us were all alone. For ten minutes or so Her Majesty proudly showed us her flower beds, explaining how much she enjoyed spending time in this quiet garden, then she excused herself and disappeared towards the house leaving Russ and I alone in the garden. A few minutes later we started to make our way back up to the front lawn. As we did so a rather unkempt looking man came out unexpectedly from behind some bushes and confronted us. It really was amazing how people kept silently appearing and disappearing. It was almost as though this man had been waiting off stage ready for his cue to make his appearance. He was supporting a large artist’s easel over one arm. I assumed he was another secret service agent although he did seem rather old for that sort of job.

‘Good morning,’ he said, holding out his spare hand to be shaken. ‘You must be the gentlemen from the Red Arrows. I’m the Duke of Hamilton and I’m very pleased to meet you.’

I racked my brain swiftly and decided that the correct form of address was ‘Your Grace’. If I was wrong the Duke did not correct me. We chatted as we made our way back to the front lawn, then he looked at his watch and said, ‘Oh dear, it’s almost time. I’d better go and change. Excuse me please.’

No sooner had he disappeared into the house than the Queen Mother re-emerged, accompanied this time by two corgis, and once more joined Russ and me on the lawn. From various other doors and gates, people silently appeared and lined themselves up to the right and to the left of the main entrance. A television crew from Grampian Television in Aberdeen appeared and also a still photographer, Colin Gower, an old friend of mine. They kept at a discreet distance.

‘I’ve invited my house guests and the staff to come out and watch the flypast,’ explained the Queen Mother, turning and gently waving at each group in turn. The ladies all curtsied gracefully and the gentlemen bowed deeply in obeisance. ‘I invited the television crew here so that everyone in Scotland can see the flypasts and I’ve asked the Headmaster at the village school to let the children out to watch.’

Whilst I was explaining to the Queen Mother where the formation would come from and the fact that they would fly past twice, I noticed the Duke of Hamilton, now immaculately dressed in a morning suit and looking much more ducal, come out of the front door and take his place in the line up of house guests. He smiled in my direction. That had been a pretty smart change of clothing in more senses than one.

I peered into the distance towards Ballater, hoping that Squadron Leader Thurley would be on time. The Queen Mother saw the formation before either Russ or I did.

‘There they are,’ said the Queen Mother pointing excitedly. It was another five seconds or so before the aircraft came into my vision.

The Red Arrows followed closely by the Russian Knights, looking enormous by comparison to the British Hawks, swept over the town of Ballater and down the valley at 360kts and 500ft above the ground. Exactly on time to the nearest second, the formation flew directly over the spot on the lawn where the Queen Mother was standing. The Commandant-in-Chief raised her right hand in salute. Russ and I had moved back a few paces so that the TV crew would be able to film the Queen Mother without having us in shot. The corgis at Her Majesty’s feet looked up disdainfully at the unusual noise.

Adrian Thurley then manoeuvred his 17 aircraft formation, nine Red Arrows, six Su-27s and two photographic chase Hawks, around a wide right hand circuit over Balmoral Castle for a second flypast. The Royal corgis totally ignored the aircraft this time round. The Queen was said to be watching the flypasts from another part of the Balmoral Estate. Calm once more descended upon Royal Deeside.

‘That was magnificent,’ said the Queen Mother turning to Russ and me. ‘It brings a lump to the throat and a tear to the eyes. Please tell all the pilots, RAF and Russian, how much I admire their skill and precision.’

I promised to do just that and Her Majesty withdrew. Sir Alistair led Russ and me back to a side entrance into the house and we left a large pile of Red Arrows’ brochures and stickers for the Housekeeper to distribute amongst the staff. After changing back into civilian clothes, we set off on the long drive back to Scampton. The same guard was on duty as we drove down the avenue. He flagged us down.

‘Have you got any brochures left, please,’ he asked. ‘There’s half a dozen of us here and we’re all Red Arrows’ fans but the ones you just left with the Housekeeper will all have been snapped up by now.’

We handed over the rest of our gizzits. I was very impressed with the internal communications!