After reading Willie Keays article on parades I recalled the situation in which I found myself during late October 1971.

At RAF CIO Brighton, with my three fellow airmen, we performed all Royal Air Force tasks in the counties of Kent and Sussex. These came in various guises in addition to our primary roles of recruiting and ATC squadron and schools liaison.
My three colleagues, with excellent foresight and good planning, conspired to be; on leave; on obscure courses or excused parades on medical grounds. There were no other units in our area so this left me to organize the RAF element of The Remembrance Day Parade in Brighton.

Now in most towns and cities you just got a bunch of local dignitaries and the British Legion etc, laying wreaths at the war memorial after prayers and the minute's silence.

But not so in Brighton.

This is the day when the Wavy Navy leave their poop decks and come ashore, metaphorically speaking, to exercise their rights as Senior Service to command a military event.

I was summoned to HMS Something or Other for the planning meeting; fortunately this ship turned out to be ON the dock and not in the water, so I didn't have to wait for the liberty boat to convey me past the guardroom, or whatever they call it.

The meeting was big deal. I sat with the brown jobs as Admiral X and his two Vice Admiral henchmen, surrounded by Jolly Jack Tars, awaiting orders, or perhaps their rum ration, addressed us.They had organized this parade before; there was only one problem;
the Order of Marching/ Seniority.

Evidently last year, after the regular contingents had passed the saluting dais, the Legion ex-servicemen and women had sneaked in before the Royal Navy Reserve. This had caused apoplexy amongst the retired Admirals at the saluting base! In addition there existed an on going feud, between the Jewish Ex -Servicemen's Association and the St John's Ambulance Brigade, as to who had precedence, it not being clarified by the relevant parading manuals.
The Navy had a minesweeper crew to lead the parade, followed by 120 pongos from Preston Barracks, and then there was me, the only RAF regular in the [village] county!!

The navy had to accept this, although they thought that the local flying clubs were manned by RAF personnel!

Then there was the wreath laying:

The Navy and Army had Ex-Chiefs of Combined Services, the RAF had me. Advice on this from the Inspectorate of Recruiting was: " for me to manage local matters";

No sweat, I'd been outranked before!

36 hours to go before Remembrance Sunday. At 1655 on Friday the admirals decided, unilaterally, to have a guard mounted at the war memorial from 0800 Sunday-with rifles! , Resting On Arms Reversed and all that! I thought it a joke, but it wasn't. They really wanted to show off their matelots, with their pristine white webbing, against the grey memorial.

I was so lucky as next day I found a veteran 17year old, six foot three inch tall, Flight Sergeant ATC cadet, who was only too keen to finally use his four years of drilling for some useful purpose.
The great day arrived. I joined the Chiefs--laid the RAF wreath; marched myself across the road; fell in behind the pongos; marched past the dais; saluted the mayor and corporation; fell out; dashed back to the saluting base, (in time to see the Jewish ex Servicemen leading the St John's Ambulance Brigade!) and thence into the Mayor's Parlour for drinks.

So ended my military parading career.