Waterloo

21 June 15

Waterloo.

After spending most of our time in Oxford looking for an internet Café that could print documents but not rob us at the same time (the city was lovely but we didn’t have the opportunity to stroll the streets and take it all in) we travelled to Runnymede for the 800 year anniversary of the sealing of the Magna Carta.

Irony abounded the event. The Magna Carta was written to bring King John down from his high horse and stop him from acting like a spoiled child in a toy shop and give more power to the Bishops and Barons. Not one brass farthing was given to the well-being of the lower class. Luckily in the future, the document was used to help those they hadn’t thought about at the time. For the anniversary you could only attend the official, barricaded event if you one of the specially invited 4,500 guests. For the others of lesser importance, a large screen was provided at the other end of the field. There were a few hundred peasants in the field, most of them were school children and only one was dressed like an unrepresented medieval peasant and he wasn’t even British.

Dee and Gene decided to stay at Old Windsor, the town literally down the road, and I tromped off and followed the no parking signs and the constant roving police presence to find my final destination. I was able to see the Queen and her entourage to and from the event as they drove from Windsor Castle which was also just down the road (You could actually see it on the high ground at the end of the road. Surreal.) The MC opened the event, the British PM had his opportunity to speak and the Bishop of Canterbury also had something to say but didn’t lose his head over it *boom boom*. The Queen then tottered up to open the little curtain so everyone could see the little plaque to commemorate the occasion and tottered off to meet a few specially chosen people from the specially chosen people then drove off. She had a fabulous hat.

I don’t honestly believe she wanted to be there. Basically, this event celebrated the losing of royal power by some git 800 years ago and I can’t imagine that she really appreciated the fact that such a large thing was being made from it. You can wonder what her duties would be today if this hadn’t been brought in. She probably wouldn’t be spending most of her time pulling ropes for little curtains and knighting rock stars.

After Runnymede we drove to Kent to catch up with the rest of the British and Australian contingent of 95^th Riflemen (we would later meet the American Riflemen of our contingent at Waterloo) as we were driving off the following day. A nice dinner at the suburb’s social club, a thing I’ve never come across before, that night prepared us for the drive to Dover, the ferry crossing and the drive to Waterloo the following day. Luckily with the use of our GPS, we arrived there safe and sound as the mini bus and van were off the ferry before us and we weren’t able to catch up. I even handled the driving on the wrong side of the road quite well….

Soon the camp was set up and we had found a spot to park the campervan for the next 5 nights. We had 2 days prior to the event to see the sights and cover the drill required to look good to the punters and not get killed or maimed on the field.

Even before the event started, casualties occurred. An Australian female rider was thrown from a young fiery mount at a previous event and she broke her leg and ankle (that horse was then brought to Waterloo and threw another rider). A Canadian had a heart attack and died near the toilets situated next to the walls of Hougoumont. It’s believed he wasn’t managing his diabetes properly (a warning to all those who suffer from this disease). A Cold Stream Guard was killed by a car late at night; Several horses were put down, most from slipping on the duckboards that were the roadways of the site. There also human injuries from the boards. The boards became even more dangerous after a light rain to make them even more slippery. Even the person playing Napoleon broke his arm. I lost track of how many broken bones, strains, sprains  and eye and ear injuries occurred over the event. To top it off, Dee’s borrowed dress that she was wearing caught fire at the encampment’s kitchen due to high winds. Luckily, we were there and she dropped and rolled and I patted out the flames. The back half of her skirt was burnt away but the chemise was fine which was why she only received the lightest of singes on her right shin (I did suggest she shave those long hairs…). An hour later she was fine, showing everyone how much of a hot arse she has.

Regardless, Waterloo was a fantastic experience. To encamp in the area of the battle, leaning against the walls of Hougoumont to make cartridges, watching the Allied army march to take up their positions, kneel in the wheat fields in the skirmish line and feeling the shock waves of artillery salvos go through your body. The rumour mill was abound with stories how the French wanted a re-match and how some will be fighting hard. In the actual when the 2 forces met, it was with lots of smiles, handshakes and even hugs. From the stands it must have looked like some pretty savage hand-to-hand fighting.

One of the guys was casting about for half an hour before the start of the battle, hoping to find a musket ball from the actual battle to no avail. One of the Riflemen from my team was lying down and relaxing and glanced at the ground and notice a small round protrusion between the wheat stalks and plucked up a musket ball. That started an amateur archaeological dig by all and sundry but to no avail.

It was very interesting to learn the 95^th’s, 2^nd Battalion weapon and parade drill as it differed from ours. At first, the words of command left us pretty perplexed but after a while we finally figured out what they wanted us to do. A great group with fantastic personalities. I’m hoping on gaining some new FB friends soon.

It was unusual to start the actual battle so late with the first salvo at 8pm with everything finishing at 10pm. Considering the sun doesn’t go down until 11pm and it’s much cooler, it’s pretty logical but, again, surreal.

Today, we cleared out our possessions from the camp, had the group photos that we forgot to take during the event, made our farewells. We traveled less that 80km to Antwerp to the north. We were pretty tired and were planning on a ‘make and mend’ day where our clothes from the last week could be washed and dried. Unfortunately, the camping site doesn’t have washing and drying machines, so we will have to wait until tomorrow when we’re in Amsterdam.