The question not even the Queen dare ask

Press, 3 June 1981, Page 21

The question not even the Queen dare ask

father. Prince Andrew, was ousted by a military junta. It was at the instigation of his cousin. King George V. that Andrew was able to make his way to safety in England, and Philip, say his friends, has never forgotten the debt he considers that he owes to Britain. For nearly 20 years. Philip had no permanent.home until he moved into London's Clarence House as the husband of the then Princess Elizabeth. It was only when he became the consort of a Queen that he began to develop a strong personality of his own and, as he put it,’“to make this monarchy thing work.” The Throne, he let it be known, was far too classbound. Although there were private protests at what many thought was Philip's undue • influence on the Queen, a “spring-clean” went ahead with ruthless speed. Out went formal courts. State balls, and debutante presentation parties. It was Philip who suggested that large-scale garden parties should be held in the Palace grounds. And it was he who instituted the series of-regu-lar lunches during which the Queen and he meet, a wide cross-section of the community. * ' ’' „ l' The Royal household has become heavily streamlined.

Philip frequently took a sandwich lunch at his desk but soon discovered it took four servants and up to an hour to get it So he installed an internal phone system and brought time-and-motion study experts into the Palace kitchens. Inevitably, in a public figure who'carries out up to 200 engagements a year. Philip is no stranger to criticism. In 1961. after a speech on the urgent need to preserve wildlife. he set out with the .Queen on a tour of India — and one of his first acts was to shoot a tiger! . Unperturbed, the Prince remarked: “I suffer from dontopaedics — the science of opening- your mouth and putting your foot in it.” On anotiter occasion, a tour of the San Francisco Museum of Art brought him face-to-face with a work of art called “Relief Construction." The museum authorities were deeply offended by the Royal remark; "That seems to me only fit for hanging a towel on.” He is impatient with what he regards as too much protocol or humbug, and inefficiency always gets short shrift. A badly-briefed official Will be told to “go away and do your homework.” Philip is also the first to admit that his greatest fault is being unable to relax.

By

GILLIAN FRANKS,

Features International