The Duke of Edinburgh - His Legacy for the Royal Navy
In February 1885 Princess Alice of Greece, a great
granddaughter of Queen Victoria was born at Windsor Castle. In April 2021, 136
years later, her son, Prince Philip, the Duke of Edinburgh died at Windsor
Castle. There is a pleasing symmetry here,
and one that helps close the chapter on a life that will be remembered over
time as the very definition of duty and service.
The Royal Navy will mourn the loss of its ‘Lord High Admiral’,
a man who was one of the last living links to the fighting in WW2, and who for
decades took a close personal interest in his Service.
There was enormous affection in the Royal Navy, and the
other Services, for the Duke, who repaid it in kind. All who encountered him seem
to have nothing but positive words to say about his approach, and the manner in
which he genuinely seemed to care. That decades later people can still recall what
he said to them during visits is a good insight into his impact and influence
on others.
The passing of the Duke brings to an end a remarkable era,
and separates the Service from one of its last wartime veterans. But, there is
much that can be drawn from the life of HRH The Duke of Edinburgh, and in
particular there are some reflections that can made about how he was
inextricably linked to the values and ethos of the modern Royal Navy.
On a personal level, the Duke embodied the leadership skills
needed to make it to the very top of the Service. His personality, intelligence
and wit as well as raw courage served him well as a junior officer, and there
is little doubt that had he remained in the Service, he would have succeeded at
more senior appointments too.
This personality is perhaps the very model of what anyone
aspiring to be a naval officer should aim to be. The ability to demonstrate
presence, to make people laugh no matter how nervous or challenging things are
and encourage them to join you on a difficult journey. The raw courage to stand
fast when under pressure, and a willingness to treat others with respect and
dignity – recognising everyone, no matter how junior has a role to play, and
deserves fair treatment.
One of the most interesting things to emerge in the many
anecdotes and tributes offered has been the accounts not only of how interested
he was in things, but how he was not afraid to probe, push and hold to account.
One former First Sea Lord has recalled coming under pressure
to justify an operational deployment of escort ships to the West Indies on
counter narcotic operations, noting that it would merely increase the prices of
drugs on the streets of London, causing more harm.
This sort of questioning, of probing and seeking
understanding belies a sharp intellect and is perhaps the very definition of
what ‘reasonable challenge’ looks like. The modern British armed forces
regularly talk about the concept of ‘reasonable challenge’ in terms of questioning,
but have perhaps struggled to bring loyal dissent into regular use in a Service
bound by hierarchy.
The Duke should be seen as an example of what constructive challenge is when used properly – questioning not for the sake of it, but for trying to check that one line of policy or activity will not cause disruption to others. If anything, the legacy of the Duke should be that his culture of constructive challenge must live on – there is nothing wrong with holding senior people to account, and ensuring that the right decisions are made if done so appropriately.
More widely the Dukes life was defined by both the love of
the sea, and the love of the air. A keen pilot, he is reported as having said
he was interested in going into the RAF at one point. Earning his own PPL and
having spent thousands of hours flying aircraft, he perhaps summed up that
marriage between aviation and maritime, keenly championing the importance of
both causes.
It is fitting that having served in the last days of battleships,
as airpower threatened their demise, and then seeing the navy into its
transition into the aircraft carrier serving as the very heart of the fleet, the
Duke was able to see the next generation of aircraft carriers emerge.
Curiously the Duke leaves us at a time when the Royal Navy
seems to be changing very much back into the model of the service it was when
he was a junior officer. In the 1940s he was based in Malta, and spent time with
his family based as part of the Mediterranean Fleet. Then the Royal Navy was
based around the world, in permanent bases and dockyards throughout the
Commonwealth and Empire.
Following decades of retrenchment and withdrawal, and a
focus on deployments not basing abroad, the wheel has come full circle. The
most recent Integrated Review has once again committed the Royal Navy to having
ships based permanently around the world, and the model of operations, built
around Carrier Groups, and lighter individual ships on station to ‘fly the flag’
is in many ways remarkably similar to the Royal Navy of the late 1940s.
There was a particularly naval theme to the passing, with
the hosting of global ‘Death Gun Salutes’ that saw Royal Navy ships and shore
establishments around the world fire a 41 Gun salute.
Although the rig of both anti-flash and Nos1’s is perhaps not commonly used, it made sense given the fact that Saluting Guns offer little shielding in the event of something going wrong, unlike Army artillery that has a longer muzzle and measure of protection. This has not stopped a variety of former matelots moaning on social media about ‘health and safety gone mad’, as if taking sensible steps to protect people from injury is a bad thing.
The Death Gun Salute also helped showcase the Dukes wider links to the Commonwealth – the site of many of the worlds ‘Royal’ Navies, firing salutes from their nations around the globe helps serve as a reminder of the very global nature of the Commonwealth. That some 75 years after the end of WW2, and the beginning of the end of Empire, so many nations choose to share a monarch, and feel a sense of attachment to the Royal Family is little short of remarkable.
These shared bonds are brought into sharp focus at times like
this, as it reminds us that sadly we are likely to face a generational change
within the not too distant future. As this change happens, it will be
interesting to see whether this marks the end of constitutional ties, or if the
glue that binds us remains strong.
The passing of the Duke is both a moment for a sense of
loss, but also too a moment to reflect on what we collectively have together as
a family of nations. To individuals the loss may feel as if it has more impact
than some may realise – but this is perhaps to be expected.
As we emerge as a nation from an intensely difficult year, where
many of us were denied the ability to say farewell to those we loved, this
emphasis in the media on a man of an age who ensures that many people will
associate with elderly parents or grandparents hits home. It perhaps serves as
a means of expressing grief by proxy for others, and the coverage and sense of
loss here hits because it is a reminder of our inability to have grieved properly
for those in the last 12 months who have passed.
The Duke embodied
much of what it meant to be a naval officer – a commitment to service,. putting
others before one self, and in leading by example. His legacy to the Royal Navy
and to the nation is that of an individual who believed in doing the right
thing, who wasn’t afraid to admit that he was not perfect, and who recognised
that doing ones duty, supporting others and finding ways to help shape other
peoples lives for the better is a fundamentally good way to live.
One report stated that the Duke wasn’t difficult to find in
a busy reception, apparently one merely listened to where the laughter was
coming from. As a way to live, and a way to be remembered, its hard to think of
a better epitaph than that.
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