Wartime Princess

by Valerie Wilding

  Lilibet is quite tense, except when she’s with Philip. He’s spoken to Papa, and there have been a lot of talks. As far as I can gather, Philip intends (if he marries Lilibet) to give up his Greek titles.

  ‘Who needs a title in the navy?’ he said to Lilibet. ‘It sets you apart from your men. Not a good thing.’

  August 26th

  Still no permission from Papa.

  I think, but I’m not sure, that the plan is for Philip to take the Mountbatten surname. His grandfather was Prince Louis of Battenberg, and the Battenbergs were German. Prince Louis gave up his titles in 1917, changed his name to Mountbatten, and was created the Marquess of Milford Haven by my grandfather, George V.

  This new name will make Philip appear less foreign to the British people. It’s a jolly good thing he hasn’t taken the name of the royal house he belongs to: Schleswig-Holstein-Sonderburg-Glücksburg!

  Philip seems cheerful and relaxed, so things must be going the right way. But then he always is cheerful and relaxed. He has a jokey remark for every occasion. Sometimes, his comments seem almost rude, but they’re always funny. They’re the sort that make you splutter.

  August 28th

  Papa insists the engagement must be kept secret for now. Lilibet agreed, of course, but I know she’s bursting for the world to know that they’re in love.

  Mummy says the most important consideration is that Philip is kind to Lilibet, and faithful, and that he learns to become a good consort. When Lilibet is queen, he must support her in every way – that’s a consort’s role.

  If Philip remained a prince, he’d become the prince consort. ‘You can’t very well have a lieutenant consort, can you, Mummy?’ I said. ‘Won’t it be rather odd?’

  She laughed. ‘Quite right, darling. But Papa will sort that out.’

  September 4th

  Greece are to have the monarchy back after all these years, and Philip’s cousin, George II, is to be restored to the Greek throne. He knows about the romance, and Papa is worried he’ll let out the news of the engagement.

  September 7th

  The news is out. That didn’t take long. There was a report in the paper today, saying that Princess Elizabeth is to become engaged to a distant cousin, Prince Philip of Greece and Denmark.

  ‘How infuriating!’ Mummy said. I know she believes it was King George who let the news slip. ‘Well, we’ll see about that.’

  Papa immediately told his private secretary to issue a denial of ‘the rumours’.

  Lilibet’s miserable. The shine’s being taken off her happiness.

  ‘It’s only words,’ I said. ‘You know what newspapers are like.’

  I know why she’s unhappy. It’s all a lie, and she’s an honest, straightforward person. But sometimes lies are necessary. A royal engagement and marriage must be done properly and, anyway, Papa feels this isn’t the right time.

  September 11th

  The result of the newspaper leak is a poll showing that not all the British people would be happy to see the elder daughter of their king marrying someone with strong German connections. It’s too soon after the war.

  October 27th

  Lilibet and I were bridesmaids at Pamela Mountbatten’s wedding at Romsey Abbey yesterday, and Philip was an usher.

  We had to hold flowers and keep our skirts out of puddles and when we went to take off our fur coats, Philip fairly leapt to help Lilibet. Then he helped me (good old number two princess!).

  The thing was, there was quite a buzz from the spectators when that happened. Newspaper photographers clicked their cameras madly, and I heard the whirr of a film camera.

  Afterwards, Lilibet said, ‘I wish we could announce the engagement and get it over with.’

  ‘Well, you can’t,’ I said. ‘Philip’s going to become a British citizen first. Those things don’t happen overnight. Anyway, your engagement ring won’t be ready for ages.’

  Philip’s having the ring made using diamonds from his mother’s tiara. I expect that’s because he can’t afford one himself, but I think it’s romantic that Lilibet will wear something all her life that belonged to Philip’s mother. Also, when she gets married, it’ll fulfil part of the ‘something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue’ tradition.

  November 1st

  We had such a grand evening. We went in a big party to a Royal Film Performance. It was held to raise money for a charity that benefits needy people, like widows or the sick, from the film and television world. It’s nice that such a fun evening helps people. We all hope it becomes a regular event! The film we saw was A Matter of Life and Death. Lots of stars were there, and they shone searchlights into the sky. Leicester Square was packed with people. All we royal ladies were given bouquets by sweet little children. How they stared at us! As we entered our box, there was a fanfare of trumpets, which made me jump. It was a lovely evening, and the only thing wrong was that we were slow getting through the traffic and crowds and Papa got a little bad-tempered. I think he still gets tired. I wish his cough was better. But the hold-up didn’t spoil the evening, which was wonderful except for the usual complaint. Philip isn’t here.

  November 5th

  Another fantastic evening. Oh, I do love London. Now the war’s over, it seems that there’s always something wonderful to look forward to. Tonight it was the Royal Command Variety Performance at the Palladium Theatre. It was so thrilling. Our box was decorated with loads of flowers.

  ‘No gardenias,’ whispered Mummy. ‘At least Margaret won’t sneeze all the way through.’

  ‘No,’ Lilibet whispered back. ‘She’ll just fidget.’

  Cheek!

  A drumroll signalled the national anthem, then a spotlight shone on Mummy and Papa. Every head in the audience craned to see us! Why do I always feel a giggle coming on at times like that? Nerves, Lilibet says.

  December 2nd

  I bet we have a white Christmas. I’ve never known the weather so cold.

  Philip will come to Sandringham. That’ll be fun, because he’s great at joining in. He’s tall, too, so he can help decorate the tree, so I don’t have to climb the ladder, which I don’t care for.

  His Christmas invitation is another sign that everything’s proceeding well, though nothing can be taken for granted where royal life is concerned.

  In a few weeks we four will leave for our South African visit. My first trip abroad. I’m so excited. It’ll be lovely and warm, I know. Ruby and Bobo are in a flurry of lists and dress fittings and jewellery checks. Lilibet’s so looking forward to Christmas but, although she longs to see South Africa, she’d rather not leave Philip behind. If only the engagement could be made official before we go, but it can’t. I just hope they get on with making Philip a British citizen. Papa’s given his permission for that, and Philip’s delighted because, as a citizen, he can have a proper career in our navy.

  December 11th

  Mummy and I had lunch by ourselves today. It’s so cold we had to send for warm cardigans. She asked if I’m excited about the trip.

  ‘Very,’ I said. ‘I just wish Lilibet wasn’t sad about leaving Philip.’

  ‘It’ll be fine when we’re there,’ said Mummy. ‘So many new things to see – it will be a distraction for her. She’ll barely have time to think of Philip.’ She sipped a glass of water. ‘In fact, it will give them both a chance to decide if they’re doing the right thing.’

  I put down my knife and fork and folded my arms.

  ‘Darling, we don’t mean to be difficult about the engagement,’ said Mummy. ‘There are some members of the household and the government who believe that the people won’t accept Philip. In fact, there’s been another horrid poll in the newspaper. About fifty-five per cent of the people think it’s a good idea, but forty per cent are against it.’

  ‘You mean because of the German thing?’

  Mummy nodded.
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br />   ‘But the war’s over,’ I said. ‘Shouldn’t we forgive and forget? After all, Philip was on our side. He didn’t go round shooting down Spitfires, did he?’

  She laughed.

  January 14th 1947

  The whole palace is in a going-away fluster. Lilibet’s sulking because Papa told Philip he can’t come on board our ship to say goodbye.

  ‘We’ll be gone for ten weeks,’ she said angrily. ‘It’s such a little thing to ask.’

  ‘It’s the little thing that would give the game away to newspaper reporters,’ I said.

  She couldn’t argue with that and, to be fair, she’s been careful not to be seen in public with Philip.

  ‘Anyway,’ I went on, ‘he’s having a lovely farewell dinner party for us in Chester Street. Did you know he’s inviting Noël Coward? I’m busy learning all his songs in case I get a chance to sing with him.’

  ‘Margaret, you wouldn’t!’ she said.

  I would.

  January 16th

  Lilibet and I have studied the map and looked at all the exotic names of places we might be visiting: Bloemfontein, Basutoland, Swaziland, Bechuanaland, Natal.

  ‘Here’s a good name,’ said Lilibet, pointing. ‘Port Elizabeth.’

  ‘Port Margaret would sound nicer,’ I said.

  ‘Ha ha!’

  I immediately broke into the song I’ve been driving Lilibet mad with, ‘Carry me back to the old Transvaal, That’s where I long to be…’

  She covered her ears. ‘All right, Port Margaret would be wonderful! Anyway, we can hardly carry you back to the old Transvaal when you haven’t even been there!’

  We’re travelling by air, rail and road. Won’t it be lovely to be in sunshine after this terrible cold winter. Mummy says she’s never known it to be so bitter, and she’s Scottish.

  Papa feels bad leaving Britain, because there are so many problems caused by the weather, but Mummy says he’s looking forward to the trip. He probably realizes that if Lilibet marries, it could be the last time we four are together.

  January 21st

  Huge snowfalls everywhere. Roads blocked. It looks so beautiful out of our windows, but people are suffering. I hope we can get to Portsmouth to board our ship.

  February 2nd

  We’re on our way! We left Buckingham Palace in the snow and drove out with the Household Cavalry trotting alongside, looking so smart. Crowds waved us all the way to Waterloo, where we boarded the train for Portsmouth.

  On the way, we peered into people’s gardens, and in many there were grown-ups and children waving Union Jacks. They’d waited outside in the cold for us to whizz past. We couldn’t believe how kind people are.

  Portsmouth was even colder than London, with a biting, sleety wind. When I tried to speak, my lips wouldn’t work properly. But once we’d boarded the Vanguard, endured a forty-one-gun salute and waved to some of the naval and private ships who’d gathered to see us off, we were cosy enough.

  On HMS Vanguard

  Ooooh, I never want to see the Bay of Biscay ever again. Not that I saw much this time, because I could barely move from my bed. Seasickness is the nastiest thing. Poor Lilibet was worse than me; she said she wanted to die. Mummy couldn’t move, and Papa stayed with her.

  But when the rough seas settled, how different everything became! Papa’s now wearing tropical clothes. Lilibet and I are in cotton dresses, but Mummy still dresses in her own glamorous way.

  You can do rifle shooting on this ship. We’ve all had a go and I’m pretty good at it, better than Lilibet!

  We all play games, and the officers join in. Philip would be livid if he saw how much they all like Lilibet and what fun she’s having with them! Such a flirt!

  Papa’s had reports about how bad the British weather is. I think he feels guilty that he’s in sunshine while everyone at home is freezing. He said there are twenty-foot snowdrifts in some places, and whole villages are cut off. There’s a lot of flu about, too, and people are dying. Papa’s such a caring king.

  Lilibet told me Philip will become a British citizen on February 28th, but it won’t be announced straight away. I think then she’ll put pressure on Papa to agree to a formal engagement. He doesn’t like being pushed, so she must be careful. I do think he looks a little better now – not so thin and exhausted. The rest and sunshine are doing him good. Mummy just basks under a parasol and laughs at all of us.

  Our visit to South Africa

  The weather was glorious when we first sighted Cape Town. Table Mountain is a strange sight, with its long flat top. It had a layer of cloud over it, looking for all the world like a tablecloth.

  The heat got to us after a couple of days. We’re just not used to it. Mummy uses a parasol or umbrella when we’re riding in open cars in blazing sunshine. She’d hate her face to get sunburnt.

  We’ve hardly had a moment to ourselves! The weeks are flying by. There have been audiences with important people, garden parties, balls, opening parliament, pageants… We walked for about a mile through dripping, steamy forest to visit the Victoria Falls, we’ve seen strange animals and brilliantly-coloured birds, and it’s so hot. Whenever we get where we’re going, all we want to do is flop, but first there’s the national anthem, which we have to stand for, of course, and they always sing every verse.

  Some of the highlights: when there was a storm in a town we visited, and the people thought we were bringers-of-rain! Being allowed to ride with the train driver and pulling the whistle! Visiting an ostrich farm, seeing baby ostriches (ugly) and being given an egg (huge). Hearing the official news of Philip becoming British and, first, seeing Lilibet’s delighted smile and then recognizing a determined look in her eye that said, ‘Now then, Papa…’ And horse riding on wide, empty beaches! All so exciting and new!

  Not everything was good. King George of Greece died while we were away, and his brother Paul assumed the throne. Papa has been quite short-tempered. He roared at our driver one day, and he was furious with me when I laughed at a lady’s curtsey – I felt bad when he pointed out to me that she was clumsy because her joints were stiff and painful. Then I laughed at an African chief when he tripped over his words. That was really, really bad. Lilibet said I should have known better, being the daughter of someone who has problems with public speaking. When I remember that day I feel ashamed.

  Mummy has a memory that makes her feel uncomfortable. A Zulu man ran at our car, shouting and waving his arm. Papa yelled at the driver to speed up, and Mummy bravely hit the man over the head with her parasol. The police dragged him away. The awful thing was that later we learned he was only trying to give Lilibet a ten-shilling note as an early birthday present. We all felt sick when we heard. Lilibet was terribly upset. ‘I must write to him,’ she said, but unfortunately we don’t know where he is. It’s such a sad, but sweet story.

  On Lilibet’s twenty-first birthday, she sat in front of a microphone at a small table in the shade and broadcast a message to the Commonwealth. In it, she dedicated her whole life, whether it be long or short, to our people and to the service of the Empire. She looked so lovely, and sounded so sincere, and when she said ‘whether it be long or short’, I had to swallow hard. Her life is going to be what Mummy calls ‘a challenge’.

  She had some breathtaking presents: lots of diamonds – after all, this is a diamond-mining country – her final two pearls, a gold key to Cape Town, and presents from all the family and the royal household. What brought the biggest smile to her face was a telegram from Philip, which she refused to show to anybody. They spoke on the telephone, too, and when she’d finished, I hugged her and we didn’t speak.

  Going home

  Eventually, there was a farewell luncheon, when we all received jewels, and Mummy was given a gold tea service. They were terribly generous.

  We waved goodbye to beautiful South Africa, and then it was back on the Vanguard, very tired, a
nd glad of some peace and quiet. Poor Papa seems as tired as he was when we left England, and looks much thinner to me. He needs rest.

  I think Lilibet would gladly have taken an oar and rowed if it would have helped us get back any faster! But even when we reached Portsmouth, there were greetings and cannon salutes and inspections and flowers and a civic reception. Then a peaceful train ride to Waterloo where we were greeted by the prime minister and other dignitaries, then into a carriage. Oh, it was so good to cross the Thames and see the dear old Palace of Westminster again. There must have been thousands on the streets, welcoming us home. Westminster Bridge itself was lined with well-wishers. Then, back to the palace for a balcony appearance, and all the time, Lilibet must have been bursting to rush home and telephone Philip.

  May 14th

  Everything’s back to normal for me, but my sister’s in a whirl! She’s always out at parties or the theatre, or even nightclubs, where I’m not allowed to go. Just wait till I’m eighteen! I’ll have such a good time.

  Lilibet sometimes comes to see me in the morning to tell me all about the night before. I must say, she always seems to have young men crowding round her. Philip had better watch out! I’m sure Mummy and Papa are encouraging her to mix with all these young men (from good families, of course). She enjoys flirting. But I know her heart belongs to Philip.