After Margaret was cremated her
ashes joined those of her husband Denis in the rear grounds of The Royal
Hospital Chelsea - a posh nursing home. Inside this long iconic building carers
have been looking after retired soldiers of the British Army since 1692. She'd
built up a strong relationship with the place during the last years of her
life. She and Denis often spent Sundays together walking around the grounds.
As she was a decisive figure her funeral was
always a sensitive point. The small-scale ceremonial funeral here with military
honours was one step down from a state funeral. It was attended by a few
friends and her two children. Both took it in turns to each place a single red
rose alongside the solid oak casket containing the ashes. After some prayers it
was put into the earth.
I’m afraid I couldn’t get into the grounds of the
place. Security guards were dotted around various gates and I was probably too
scruffy anyway. I was hoping to take photos of the plaques but the place must
entertain special opening hours. Oh well. I was at school and college when the
Iron Lady was in the hot top seat and probably too naive to understand
politics. She came in for some friction though. I remember a school friend had
his bike stolen and he said, “That Maggie Thatcher’s to blame for all this
nicking.” I did a salute and left.