From the desk of Roland Rocchiccioli – 29 September

The funeral for Queen Elizabeth II – The Queen of Australia – was a grand gathering of the good and the great.

THE concourse assembled to bid farewell at the Abbey – the Collegiate Church of Saint Peter at Westminster, and St George’s Chapel, Windsor, watched by an estimated 4.6 billion people internationally, making it the most viewed broadcast in television history.

The memorial and committal services were a considered combination of inspirational words and glorious music chosen by The Queen, and which reflected the life of a woman of faith: a believer in Christ.

For those born in the warm glow of victory immediately following the Second World War, the death of The Queen marks the closing of our childhood – the end of the golden weather, and presages the final chapter in our mortal journey.

Countless front-page covers, and millions of words have been dedicated to the impossible task of capturing the personality of one of the world’s most enigmatic citizens. Extraordinarily, despite a lifetime of public scrutiny, it is nigh on impossible to know what The Queen thought about anything.

We know she had a talent for mimicry – even an Australian accent was not beyond her – and was possessed of a wicked sense of humour.

Lady Pamela Hicks was one of The Queen’s Ladies-in-Waiting on the 1954 Commonwealth Tour of Australia. She recalled how, on a day away from official duties, she and The Queen were brought by barge from the at-anchor Royal Yacht Gothic to a deserted beach miles away from anyone.

They were sitting together on the sand when suddenly a motorboat appeared. Spotting the pair they shouted, “We are looking for The Queen. Have you seen?”

“Yes,” shouted back The Queen, pointing, “she went that way.”

The Queen’s personal detective, Richard Griffin, recalled an incident while out walking at Balmoral. “There were two American hikers coming towards us. The Queen would always stop and say hello. It was two Americans on a walking holiday. It was clear they hadn’t recognised her, which was fine.”

“One man asked if she lived in the area. The Queen explained she lived in London but had a holiday house just over the hill, but she’d been coming here since she was a little girl, more than 80 years. You could see the cogs were ticking. He said, ‘Well if you’ve been coming here for 80 years, you must have met the Queen’.

“As quick as a flash, she said, ‘Well I haven’t, but Dick here meets her regularly.’ So the guy asked me what she was like.

“Because I had been with The Queen for a long time, I could pull her leg, so I said, “she could be very cantankerous at times, but she’s got a lovely sense of humour.

“Anyway the next thing I knew, this guy puts his arm around my shoulder, and before I could see what is happening, he gives his camera to The Queen and asks her to take a photo of us.

“Anyway, we swapped places, and I took a photo of them with The Queen. We never let-on and we waved goodbye. Then Her Majesty said to me, “I’d love to be a fly on the wall when he shows the photos to his American friends and, hopefully, someone tells him who I am’.”

A final reflection on Her late Majesty’s death:

“We are such stuff

“As dreams are made on; and our little life

“Is rounded with a sleep.”

Roland can be heard with Brett Macdonald on Mondays at 10.45am on 3BA and contacted via [email protected].