Interesting that the links below are for 'folk music' and 'fart noises'... how often the two go together!

Not on the folk scene, but in church for a special Saturday service, the Annual Regional Conference of the British Legion (British Legion is a bit like the Veteran's Association, it looks after old soldiers and their families, has social clubs and regular gatherings). This conference consisted of a morning of meetings, the church service in the afternoon followed by a parade through the town and formal dinner, involving about 300 representatives with around 100 Colours (the Colour is the Regimental or Area flag, presented by the monarch of the day), all former Military personel, most of whom had seen active service during WWII and even a couple who were involved in WWI.

We were asked to sing the hymn 'Glorious things of Thee are spoken', which, in 'Hymns Ancient and Modern' has two tunes set to it. The usual tune is 'Abbots Leigh' by C V Taylor, a soaring, majestic tune, guaranteed to make every British heart swell with jingoistic pride. Regretably, our organist, being more interested in the cricket scores on his radio headphones, chose the alternative tune. This is also a stirring, majestic but somewhat martial melody by Haydn, known as 'Austria'.



What's the last tune in the world that a former Belsen PoW wants to hear?


To say it was an unpopular choice is an understatement. The silence from the body of the church was not merely palpable, it was sentient! The choir gamely sang on alone but if looks could kill, there would have been auditions for a new choir the following day.

The rest of the service sort of faltered on after that, with a lack-lustre air, until it came for the blessing of the Colours and their march out and into the town. Because there were many more than expected, it took some 20+ minutes to hand each back to the Colour Party, take the salute and form parade in the body of the church. Predictably, the organist ran out of his chosen voluntary and decided to improvise. He chose a rather popular march written by Eric Coates for a film. Well... what had been a limp and apathetic gathering suddenly snapped to and became the pride of the British Army - Colours were held erect (to the detriment of at least one hanging lampshade), shoulders went back, chests swelled, medals jingled and the whole parade marched as one man out of the church and down the street where the local Regimental band had to play quick time to keep up with them.

Amazing the effect that the wrong tune in the wrong place can have, but not so dramatic as the right tune in the right place!

LTS