After a hard tour in the 80s, QCS appealed to me. A lot. I was told (by my FS and sqn WO - both ex QCS and both of whom would have looked sartorial in rotten sandbags) that I wasn't tall enough, was far too scruffy and lazy, but above all, I was ugly. I think there may have been one or two adjectives thrown in along the way for good measure. ".. do you fancy Hullavington instead?" they invited. I got the message.
Seeing QCS execute their task made me proud; but the entire tone sent a shiver through me. I watched it with a civilian who was unaware of my faded military connection and he simply said "wow". But it wasn't just about that.
When the repatriated were referred to as 'the fallen' by Downing Street, it forged the connection. We sent out a message that just as the public shared our pain and showed *us* respect in war and all its aftermath, so too, could we reciprocate. The families, seeing their loved ones treated with such dignity, care and reverence goes a long way to helping healing. We are public servants, paid by the public who serve at the behest of the public and in such an extraordinary occasion, we were simply looking after our own.
As an aside, this might interest some.
Half muffled quarter at Bermondsey for local undertaker | Docklands Ringers
Per Ardua.