King George VI's funeral: your memories

We asked you to send us your memories of the funeral of King George VI, which took place 60 years ago today. Many thanks to those who contacted us, but please keep them coming.

Simply email us at kinggeorgefuneral@live.co.uk and tell us your memories of King George VI's funeral. Many thanks for all your emails; here is a selection of them:

I was eight when the King died and was at school at West Walker Primary School in Newcastle-upon-Tyne - of course there were no quick forms of communication; we didn't have a television just a radio.
I was told after the whole school was assembled in hall by the school secretary that the King had died - the reaction from the pupils was "awwww".

I remember up to the funeral people were openly crying and even went around wearing black -comments about the early death shocked people and the funeral day was marked by black displays around the King's portrait. People were not reminded every few minutes and we kids just went about our lives without much further thought - looking forward to a party on coronation day trying to re-learn the national anthem without saying 'King'. I believe we had an extra day off school for the funeral but can't remember it as a special day or even why we had a day off in the first place it wasn't thought right to discuss funerals in front of children in those days -mind the coronation was a very different event with the street parties and full television coverage (the media had arrived).
Ray Austin, Newcastle-upon-Tyne

I was 15-years old when the funeral of King George VI was taking place. I remember this well as it was my very first since leaving school. I was employed by a wine company in east London as a van driver's assistant. It was whilst we were out delivering when the driver said to me "It's nearly 11 O'clock" (I think that was the time quoted in the papers) and the driver pulled into the kerb, we stood by the van, standing to attention and the driver removed his hat.

I could see other people including a postman, a policeman and other members of the public doing the same; all standing silently. A bus pulled up and the driver climbed out and stood by the side of his bus, also taking his hat off - the passengers sitting on the bus waiting patiently.
Alf Ashton, London

I was just three at the time but I remember going with our family to join the crowds lining the train track in north Acton to watch the train bearing the King's body pass.
Sylvia Lawson-Brown

I was working as an employee of the then, Post Office Telecommunications at Whipps Cross hospital, Leytonstone in East London. Several of us were working on major parts of the telephone system and cables in different parts of the apparatus room and switchboard. Suddenly, the hospital switchboard operators said to some of us: "What have you done? All the incoming and outgoing lines are out!" We were shocked. We checked different areas of the system and could not understand why all the lines to the local PO telephone exchange were inoperative. Later we were to discover that other telephone exchanges were also totally out of action.

It transpired that so many people, when they heard that the King had died, were trying to make telephone calls that the fuses in some exchanges had blown. In others the telephone exchange switch gear just could not take it. This was virtually country-wide. Nothing like it had ever occurred before, and never since. We imagined that it was, mostly the female population, wanting to be the first to let their friends know the news. I can tell you we were relieved to find out it was not our fault!
Hugh Barklem, Chingford

I was just 22 when the King died and my first thoughts were not just for his Queen but for his daughter Elizabeth who as a young woman like myself would now have the weight of the empire and commonwealth on her shoulders and could no longer enjoy the family life with her husband and children as the rest of us.

I questioned my parents to ask what they thought, Father was sad but Mother had a different view, she thought that the responsibility piled upon the King by his brother abdicating had caused an early death. She also thought that the Queen, his wife, would never forgive Edward for what he had done to her husband. Perhaps she was right. He was thrown into this situation by a very selfish brother who probably never gave it a lot of thought. Our King gave everything to our country and will always be admired for that.
Margaret Hook, Pulfer.

It was the first time that I saw my mother crying. I was just a little child at the time, playing with my folded paper planes on the polished lino of the kitchen floor, for my dear father had served in the RAF throughout the War. There was a serving hatch through from the kichen where I was playing to the adjacent dining-room, the radio was on, broadcasting the King's funeral service.

Suddenly I became aware of my mother sobbing uncontrollably in the next room. I ran through to her and climbed up onto her knee to ask her what was the matter. Through her tears she simply said: "The King is dead."

I have never forgotten that moment.
Tom Blair, Antrim

As a young school of 5 years we were taken from our school in Eton Wick to halfway along the Eton Wick Road, where we stood and watched the train carrying King George's coffin go over the bridge in front of us. We did not realise how long the new Queen would reign and God bless her.
Hazel Rees

I was then working in the City of London. At he given time (how the signal was given, I have forgotten) all of us in the office stood up and remained still and silent for 2 minutes while outside the traffic was as a standstill and all car, taxi drivers, even bus drivers and conductors (yes we had them then) stood respectfully outside their vehicles. It was an unforgettable poignant moment.
Jenny Gray, Windsor, (87 years old)

My dad was one of the pall-bearers for King George VI, his name was Charles Peter Snook. He was front bearer on the left-hand side and he told us many stories about the funeral. The one that I always remember was when they were on the train from Windsor the Queen Mother came up to them asked if they had eaten, when they replied no she came back with cheese sandwiches for them.
Jacky White

I was nearly 10 at the time, and attended Roehampton Church School. We were mustered in the playground in front of the flag pole, on which the Union Flag flew, and we were told by the Headmaster that the King had died. The flag was lowered to half mast, and after a prayer, we were all sent home.

My Father was due to take me to the pictures (cinema) that night, but of course we couldn't go, because all places of entertainment were closed as a mark of respect.

We also had a day off school for the funeral, which we listened to on the wireless. My Father wore his best suit, and my Mother wore black.
Mike Beckett, Kingswear (at the time, Wandsworth)

I was not born until 1967, but my father Ronald Joseph Gallagher was a "pall-bearer" at the King's funeral.

He was a Gunner in the Royal Navy at the time and my mum always says that it was one of the proudest moments of his life being chosen to carry out this honour. He is in the first row of the Royal Navy Sailors (to the right as you look) immediately behind the Kings Coffin.

We have some pictures, that my brother managed to get from the War Museum archives, and my mum has them proudly displayed in a frame in her living room.
Maureen Gallagher, Liverpool

I was only 18 months old at the time of the King's funeral. My father was a Sargeant Major in the Royal Irish Fusiliers at the time. Representatives of each of the services were selected to attend the funeral and act as pall-bearers for the King. My Father was selected; we were stationed in Berlin at the time, my family living in married quarters there.

My Father was flown home to London, in itself an event, and proudly represented the Royal Irish Fusiliers as well as the people of Northern Ireland as pall bearer to the late King. My father, Thomas Filson McIlveen is now deceased, though I remain very proud of him.
Pam Peterson, Watford

King George VI's funeral, as broadcast on BBC radio, will always be special for me as it was the first event in my life which I can date and recall with absolute certainty.

Born in June 1948, I was a mere 3 years and 8 months old when the funeral took place and I have vivid memories of Richard Dimbleby's solemn voice coming from a radio (almost as tall as I was), standing in the corner of the small living room of our semi-detached house in Southampton. My parents were sitting in silence, listening to the broadcast - and my sister, only a few days old and just home from the hospital, was sleeping in a basket in another corner.

I also recall the purple colour, used in the newspaper titles in place of the usual red. What is unbelievable to me is that 60 years have elapsed since that remarkable day.
James F Goater, Nagoya, Japan

I was eight years old and at school in North Wales when Miss Jones, our headmistress, interrupted the class and said "Terrible news, children, terrible news - the King is dead." There was a stunned silence, and I remember our teacher's face turned bright red. The impact was rather like hearing of the death of Diana, Princess of Wales, as it was, as far as we were concerned, totally unexpected. For kids, of course, the King had been there ever since we could remember, and it was as if part of our world had suddenly been taken away.

Radio programmes were cancelled, shops began to dress their windows in colours of mourning. I remember the black and purple clothes in the window of my grandmother's dress shop, with bands of black and purple crepe paper at the sides, and a photo of the King, surrounded by black cloth. Schoolchildren attended a memorial meeting at the Town Hall, and my mother told me that Kings found it just that bit easier to get into heaven. (I think she didn't want me to be too upset.)
Rona Hart

In February 1952, I was a student at the Royal Naval Engineering College in Plymouth. One morning the whole college was summoned unexpectedly to parade in the gym. Then the Captain came in to tell us that King George VI had died early that morning. We were soon provided with mourning bands to wear on the sleeve of our uniforms.

I was chosen as one of a small party representing the College at the funeral in London. We had to get up early to parade, and were surprised to find ourselves marching down the Mall, in front of the gathering crowds.

Who could forget hearing the distant drum beat and solemn music of the funeral march, drawing ever closer. We were very close to all who marched slowly past. Then came stately cortege, with the gun carriage bearing the coffin, colurfully draped in the Royal Standard, surmounted by the sparkle of one of the crowns, and drawn by the solemn files of Royal Naval Ratings. I recall seeing the Queen, the Queen Mother and Princess Margaret in their veiled mourning following behind in their closed carriage. It was an awesome moment.

The unexpected consequence of that day was that several of us in the party contracted mumps during the following week, and we all ended up in an isolation ward at the Royal Naval Hospital Stonehouse in Plymouth.
Edmund Phillimore

Many thanks to those who have emailed us their memories of the funeral, if you have a story to tell you can email us at kinggeorgefuneral@live.co.uk.

• In pictures: the funeral of King George VI