Royal occasions really do expose the absurdities in our national psyche. My only concern is that we who grew up here consistently fail to recognise the nonsense. Our only hope must be that infant minds, unencumbered by that great intellectual disabler “tradition”, will raise their hands to ask why, when the most popular old lady in Britain was buried, the Army rather than undertakers took charge.

Soldiers don’t normally bury people, even when they’ve killed them. So why was the Queen Mother borne to Westminster on a gun carriage? Don’t argue she was honorary commander in chief of several regiments, she was also patron of the RNLI and we didn’t see her launched into her grave on a lifeboat.

And while we’re on the subject, why did three of her male relatives dress up as sailors? None of them is in the Navy now and they didn’t wear sailor suits for Princess Diana’s burial so we know they have a choice.

Finally, why on earth was the royal coffin followed on its journey by a Lancaster bomber? The Queen Mum never flew Lancasters, as far as I know, neither did she have any particular involvement in the strategic plan to nightly incinerate German civilians, which was what these machines were for.

We knew little about the person buried last week but loved her for her sense of fun, her days at the races and her Gamp;T. It seems we also admired her because she didn’t run away when the Germans bombed London. But who did? State occasions should make sense or the nation makes no sense. I hope a few young Britons are asking their teachers what all those guns and uniforms had to do with marking our respect and affection for a beloved old lady.