The ‘Imagemakers’ section investigates how a photograph influences our view of reality. This week: the soldiers of the Royal Guard who, for the sake of tradition, succumb to the sweltering heat in woolen uniforms with fur hats.
Here are the instructions: Run five miles in the morning. Breakfast good. Drink a lot of water. (That may become a problem later on, but that has been thought of). During the hour-long shift, it’s important to wiggle your toes and alternately tighten and relax your calves. Do math in your head.
If at some point the bladder feels like a well-filled water balloon, where ten gnomes are squeezing in turn, you can choose to let things run. The pants are not made of black dense wool for nothing; no one to see it – although excessive watering may cause puddles to form on the ground. Soft moaning is allowed.
Think of England
Don’t faint. If you do pass out, fall forward. Never backwards. Falling backwards is not done and can count on contempt and contempt. Yes, you run the risk of breaking your nose and losing a few teeth. But that’s the risk of the job. If only you shouldn’t have become a Royal Guard in the King’s army. So straighten your back, stop wobbling and think of England.
You may think I made this up. That is not true. These have long been the rules and customs of the Royal Guard in the British Army. They were recorded over the years from the mouths of various sergeant majors and the bodyguards themselves. And every time a Royal Guard falls over, those lines reappear in countless online articles, as do the accompanying nanosecond photo shoots showing the hapless one falling to the ground.
You can wait for it, from April when temperatures rise. Among the offers of the major news agencies is always a photo of a succumbed watchman, that one fallen domino in a sea of static red and black. Never an article about new instructions, adapted to modern times and the current climate. Never a picture of Royal Guards in refreshed, light suits and caps on their heads instead of those towering black columns of bearskin that weigh more than ten pounds. No, sticking firmly to age-old traditions in a rapidly changing world is the motto.
Tight dolls
Scroll back a bit in the archive of international photo press agency Getty and you realize that those fainting guards have become tradition as well. Image tradition. The black-and-white photos from the fifties look just as static and clinical as those of today: sleek figures who remain neatly upright, while one of them – against protocol – stretched out.
There is something wildly attractive about these images, if you leave aside the human aspect for a moment. While you can see on video these days that the unfortunate are immediately helped, those frozen shots make it seem like that lone soldier will always lie like that as the exception to the rule. Can you be very philosophical about this: if no one saw that one soldier passed out, did it really happen? Moreover, that fallen figure fiddles with all human laws of order and regularity and is single-handedly responsible for the success of the entire picture.
You could say that I have become a bit attached to these kinds of images. They continue to fascinate, however interchangeable they may be. So yes, sorry Brits, but if you stick to those weird fur hats in the scorching heat against your better judgment and for the sake of imaging, I’ll just keep waiting for the next fainting photo. Is tradition.